Page 6 of Limbo

Same, babe.

I take a deep breath and count to five before exhaling. “No information will change my mind. Running around campus in a freaking towel? Strike one. The cocky grin? Strike two. The fact that he—”

“The fact that he looks incredible?”

I laugh, unable to disagree. “Not what I was going to say, but yeah, sure. Strike three.”

“But you would make a perfect couple.”

Now she’s teetering on the edge of delusional.

“No, we wouldn’t,” I tell her. “Relationships are complicated, and I’m terrible at them. Plus, you’re certifiable if you think he’s the relationship type.”

“What type is he then?”

I don’t even need to think about it, having already pinned him. “The one incapable of committing to the same girl for more than one night. Two if he’s bored or desperate. He relies on his confidence and smooth lines to do all the work for him. Whatever requires the least amount of effort on his part.”

She bumps her shoulder into mine. “I think you’re wrong.”

I sigh at her unshakeable belief in people but hope no one ever makes her lose it. The world needs people like her to balance out people like me who expect everyone to let them down. Of course, that’s the only thing no one ever disappoints me on.

We drop the conversation on our way up the stone path to the house. Music pounds through the walls and floods out into the street when the door opens. A stale smell of alcohol mixed with bodies signals a frat party.

Felicia flashes a smile when her friend Becca meets us and squeals. She runs a finger over the new bright purple streak in Becca’s black hair before she secures my hand. The three of us chain through the crowd toward the stairs. Halfway up, I let go, a flash of color catching my eye. At least twenty people below are wearing pink beanies similar to mine. No, identical.

What the hell?

At the top of the stairs, another girl wearing the exact same hat bumps into me. I catch up to Felicia and Becca in a room lit by the hallway light with a bed full of coats, and I add mine to the pile.

“What’s with all the hats?” I ask.

“Don’t tell her, Becs.” Felicia smirks.

Becca ignores her and hands me her phone. “Beta Void posted the picture yesterday, and it blew up.”

I laugh at a picture of Jordan in a very recognizable getup. Damn it. I officially feel guilty about not giving him the other hat and scarf. But just a tinge because he still looks plenty sure of himself and seems to have acquired quite the fan base.

Wait. Beta Void?

“The band playing downstairs?” I ask.

Becca nods, and I glare at Felicia. The wicked gleam returns to her eye. She set me up.

“Maybe you should be normal and use social media,” she says.

I resist the urge to shove her smug ass off the bed and look back at the photo of the guy who I couldn’t have picked out of a lineup two days ago. Dark hair sticks out from the bottom of the stocking cap. Enough stubble lines his strong jaw to look like he shaved the day before, even though it probably looks like that every day.

Felicia rips the phone away. “Want to stop ogling the picture and go see the real thing?”

She doesn’t give me an option, pushing me out the door.

We locate the keg in the kitchen—always the first stop—before heading to the living room. In the corner on a makeshift stage, the band’s playing. The distortion in their song is reminiscent of grunge. Early nineties. I half-expect them all to wear flannel shirts in true Cobain fashion, but the only coordination among them is pink hats. Except for Jordan. He stares down at his guitar with his hair styled into a precise mess.

“Lead guitar for Beta Void, obviously.” Felicia talks in my ear, taking advantage of a momentary lapse in my resolve. “Twenty. Junior. Perfect GPA. Philosophy major. I’m not sure of his future plans though. No one seems to know.”

My phone vibrates as Connor’s picture lights up the screen.Fuck. A knot forms in my stomach.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Felicia.

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