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What the hell is the matter with me?
Zara was hot. Here. Interested. She’s not my tutor and although I don’t know her last name, I’m positive it’s not Keller.
Rylan isn’t here. But I’m still thinking about her. Still remembering how her candidlesswhen I asked what she thought the number was hit me in the center of my chest and why I was so fucking relieved when she told me she hasn’t hooked up with anyone else since me.
I’m acting like I’m in a committed relationship with her, while she’s kissing random guys at parties.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from…Rylan Keller.
There are fucking flutters in my stomach as I rush to unlock the screen.
RYLAN: I’m calling bullshit on you asking for my number for “academic purposes.”
I smirk, then text her right back.
AIDAN: If I agree with your bullshit call, are you going to block me?
RYLAN: IDK. Agree and find out.
AIDAN: I’m calling bullshit on you believing I wanted your number for “academic purposes.”
She doesn’t respond right away this time, so I send heranother message.
AIDAN: I need help.
RYLAN: With random variables and discrete probability distributions?
AIDAN: What’s that?
RYLAN: Your latest assignment, Aidan.
AIDAN: I don’t need math help.
AIDAN: I need help with you.
AIDAN: Because I’m not sure if we’re good or not.
AIDAN: Did Tuesday freak you out again?
RYLAN: I’m not freaked out.
RYLAN: We’re good.
AIDAN: You haven’t blocked me.
RYLAN: How’d you know?
AIDAN: Smartass.
AIDAN: Are you feeling better?
RYLAN: Yeah, thanks.
AIDAN: My tongue is available, if you relapse.
AIDAN: Or just want to get off.
RYLAN: That was a one-time thing.
