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Twenty minutes into the drive, my phone buzzed. I pressed the button on my steering wheel. “Miss me?” I used my lowest, huskiest voice.

“Yeah, I do, but wow, not like that.” Nina was giggling on the other end of the phone. “Is that how you talk to your grandpa?” She was laughing hysterically.

Shit. “Oh, hey, Nina. I knew it was you—just messing with you.”

“Liar.”

Did she know where I had been shacking up for ten days?

“So, how are the grandparents? You had to have the most boring spring break in the history of spring breaks. I can’t wait to see you! When are you getting back?”

Relieved but also filled with regret, I spoke into the car’s mic. “Everyone’s good. It wasn’t that boring.” An image of a shirtless and shower-soaked Beau flashed through my mind. “Um. I’m on the road now, so you’ll see me soon.”

“Good. I can’t believe we didn’t talk all week. It was as if we were in a time warp or something. Have you heard from Candace?”

I hadn’t heard from anyone. “No. Didn’t she say she and Pearce were flying back from the Bahamas tonight?”

“I can’t keep track of their schedule anymore. Be careful. See you for dinner.”

“Bye.”

I disconnected the call and focused on the road ahead of me. All I wanted to do was to tell Nina about the incredible week I had spent with Beau, but we had pinned ourselves into a corner.

10

“Welcome back, everyone. It seems you managed to heed my sun care advice.” Professor Garcia scrutinized the first rows of students. “Spring break is over though. We only have another five weeks of classes before your projects are due and the semester is over. Time flies around here! So let’s get to it. Today we are going to talk about Cultivation Theory.” The professor waltzed over to her smart board and tapped out highlighted words on the screen.

I stared at the screen then at the blank page of my notebook. I should be taking notes and analyzing every part of the discussion on the perceptions of social reality, but the empty seat next to me was more distracting. Why wasn’t Beau in class?

“Yes! That is exactly it. Perception becomes reality.” Professor Garcia beamed at Chuck Adams. I had missed everything Chuck said.

I watched as his partner, Meredith, smiled during the outburst of praise from Garcia. It was almost as if she was proud of him. Like he was more than her Comm partner. I tried to remember what reality show they had drawn.

In the row just below me, June leaned over and whispered in Ben’s ear. He playfully squeezed her leg before returning to his negligent note taking. What in the hell was going on? Did everyone hook up over spring break?

A flash of Beau hovering over me with that killer smile shot through my mind. Had it been three days since he had me pinned under him at the beach house? That seemed like way too much time to endure without kissing him or feeling his hands roaming my skin. I blushed and buried my face behind my long hair. It was silly to think my classmates could read my thoughts, but my feelings for Beau were spiraling beyond my control. What happened between us during spring break had made sure of that.

“See everyone on Thursday.” Professor Garcia cut the power to the smart board. “London, would you mind giving me just a minute?” The rest of the class looked at me like a criminal in a lineup, but continued to file out of the room.

There was nowhere to hide. Not behind Beau’s arms, or behind the other students. I was in this alone. I collected my backpack and made my way to the bottom of the classroom.

I looked at her red cowboy boots. They matched her hoop earrings perfectly. “You wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes. Yes. I was hoping I could speak with you and Beau together. This involves him too.” She coughed into her sleeve.

My stomach was heaving back and forth. She had to know. Someone had probably spotted Beau and me on spring break, although we spent most of our time inside. Professor Garcia knew our project was a complete phony.

“I’m sorry, professor. I don’t know where Beau is. We could wait and talk on Thursday?” Stalling didn’t make much sense, but I didn’t want to face the firing squad alone.

“Why don’t we chat, and then you can talk to him?” She had me cornered.

I tried to smile and push down the sudden urge to throw up in the auditorium.

“Your blog has been the talk of campus. That’s an understatement. It has been the talk of every online communication theory group I’m in.” I didn’t want to interrupt her to ask what an online communication theory group was. “Anyway, London, you and Beau have come up with something that is so unique you are getting national attention in the communication theory community.” Her voice sounded scratchy.

My eyebrows reached the top of my forehead. What was she saying?

“I can’t tell you how many other professors have emailed me about your project. Now, I know it isn’t finished, but I want to present it at the national higher education conference this summer in Orlando.” Her coughing fit escalated. “I’m sorry. I think I might be coming down with something. Not enough sleep over spring break.” She tried to laugh. “But back to you and the research—”

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