Page 13 of Elusion

Felicia giggles and joins me, but in a less dramatic fashion. “The only day that starts before nine. She has a project due, and her partner wants to meet before class.”

I offer her one of the two remaining coffees. “Extra points for an extra shot, right?”

“Right,” she says, “but I think you need it more than I do.”

On this, we agree. I lean forward to place them both on the table in front of us when Callie’s door opens. Showtime. I wink at Felicia and hop up.

I channel her annoying pep, carrying one cup to Callie. “Felicia told me how you like it. I also added an extra shot.”

I smile at her while she glares. Clearly, she’s not a morning person either. She’s dressed in a pair of gray sweats and a maroon hoodie, and she has her espresso hair knotted in a disaster of a bun on the top of her head. An interesting choice of attire, but she pulls it off.

“How?” She rips the cup from my hand and takes a sip.

“How did she tell me?” I ask. She raises her eyebrows in response, and I tell her, “I texted and asked.”

I wait for the dots to connect. Me. Phone. Unsupervised.

“Did you hijack my number, too?” she asks.

“No, but you’ll give it to me.”

“I told you,” she says, “I’m not worth wasting your time.”

“And I said, we’re beyond that. Mission Win Callie Over has already commenced.”

Her eyes narrow. “I don’t have time for Mission Win Over—”

“Mission Win Callie Over. I’m thinking of having T-shirts made.” I grin, proud of my improvisation.

There goes her eye roll. She walks away and holds up the coffee. “Thanks.”

“If you need a ride, I could—”

The door slams, and she’s gone.

Felicia snorts out a laugh, falling over on the couch.

“Well,” I say, sitting down next to her, “I can’t imagine how that could have gone any better.”

She gasps for air. “T-shirts?”

I shove her off the couch.

For my second attempt of the day, I wait for Callie outside of her class, coffee in hand. She emerges, pulling on her coat, and I jog over.

“Hey. Need a ride?”

She Mr. Cellophanes me. Looks right through me, walks right by me, and only acknowledges my existence enough to take the coffee out of my hand. I think that’s it until she peeks over her shoulder, and our eyes meet. Maybe I’m not so invisible after all.

I go to class but leave early when Felicia texts. She meets me at their suite, and I toss a sandwich in the mini fridge for Callie. On our way out, I scribble a note, sure to let her know of the alliance between Felicia and me.

Lunch in the fridge.

—Team Jordan

Felicia attaches tape to the top and slaps it on the outside of their door. She leaves me when we reach the parking lot to go to class. For the next twenty minutes, I finish the reading for my class that begins in thirty. The alarm sounds on my phone, and I hustle inside for another shot.

Callie steps into the hall, her still-wet hair in a high ponytail. Thejust fell out of bedlook from earlier she’s replaced with leggings and a top that outlines what I know is underneath. A lot of effort goes into looking her in the eye.

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