Page 46 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

Chapter 13

There's something deeply satisfying about a freshly organized desk. Color-coded notes stacked in perfect alignment, highlighters arranged by color, textbooks positioned by size like some kind of academic cityscape. It's the one thing I can control in my increasingly chaotic life.

I've been in full avoidance mode for four days. Four days of hiding in the library's most remote corner, of taking alternate routes to classes, of turning down social invitations. Thank God my roommate is never here, or she’d be worried I joined a homebody cult.

It's not avoiding if it's studying. I tap my pen against my Bio Ethics textbook. Finals are in three weeks.

My phone buzzes, and I jump like I've been shocked. I've been doing that a lot lately—flinching at every notification, both dreading and hoping it might be him. But it's never him. How could it be? He doesn't have my number.

I glance at the screen. Instagram notification. Probably Lennox tagging me in another meme about being perpetually single. I swipe it open, then freeze.

@sanderson_sandman has sent you a message

My heart does a ridiculous flip. How did he find me? My account isn't even under my full name—it's @hannahbanannah99, a childhood nickname I never quite outgrew.

I tap the notification with a finger that's definitely not trembling.

@sanderson_ sandman:Let's play a game, Hannah Banana. Rules are simple: I ask a question, you answer. You ask a question, I answer. First person to not respond within 5 minutes loses. If I win, I get another date. If you win, I'll do whatever you want. Game starts now: favorite place on campus?

The timestamp says he sent it five minutes ago. The clock is already ticking.

"Are you kidding me?" I say to my empty room. This is exactly the kind of disruption I've been avoiding. The kind that makes my carefully ordered life spin off its axis.

I should ignore it. I have a Bio Ethics paper due on Friday and a Comparative Literature reading response that's barely started. I don't have time for games with Sanderson Connolly.

But my fingers are already typing.

@hannahbanannah99:I'm sorry but I'm busy and focusing on school for now. No time for relationships.

There. Mature, direct, responsible. I set my phone down and turn back to my textbook, feeling virtuous.

The reply comes almost instantly.

@sanderson_ sandman:Wrong answer. You just failed the first game. I'm on my way to your dorm now.

"What?" I yelp, staring at the message in disbelief. "No, no, no."

I glance around my room in panic. It's not messy, exactly, but it's not ready for visitors either. There's a bra hanging off my desk chair, a pile of laundry in the corner that's clean but unfolded, and my bed is only half-made. My desk is perfect though.

I launch into action, shoving the laundry into drawers, hiding the bra under my pillow, and straightening my comforter. I'm sweeping crumbs off my desk chair when the absurdity of the situation hits me.

Why am I cleaning for him? I'm not even letting him in. I'm not home. I'm at the library, obviously. Studying. Like I told him.

But the panic doesn't subside. The memory of our ice cream "date" is still fresh—the easy conversation, the way he seemed genuinely interested in me, the warmth of his hoodie around my shoulders. The fact that he didn't push, didn't try to kiss me, didn't ask for more than I was ready to give.

I rush to the bathroom, checking my reflection in the mirror. My hair is in a messy bun that's more messy than bun at this point, I'm wearing my oldest, most comfortable sweatpants, and there's a smudge of highlighter on my cheek. Great.

I wash my face, apply some lip gloss, and attempt to tame my hair. Then I stop, annoyed with myself.What the fuck am I doing? I am so not getting ready for him.

But even as I think it, I'm walking to the window that overlooks the parking lot to see if he’s here. Nothing yet. I grab my phone.

@hannahbanannah99:Very funny. I'm not at my dorm. I'm at the library. STUDYING. Like a responsible student.

The reply bubble appears immediately.

@sanderson_ sandman:No, you're not. I just checked.

My stomach drops. Did he really go to the library looking for me? This guy is relentless. And so infuriating.

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