“Sure?” She looks up at me, confused. “Should we be studying something else? I thought you said––”

“Stats is fine.” I sit down in the chair next to her and wait. She’s got the whole sexy librarian thing going for her, and I’m here for it.

“Ooookay.” She opens her stats textbook, slams it closed, and turns to me like she can’t help herself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What are you going to school for?”

Hooking my hands behind my head, I lean back in my chair and reply, “Undeclared.”

Her eyes dim with disappointment, and it hits a little too close to home, though I refuse to acknowledge why. Leaning forward, I rest my elbows against the table––ready to deflect the attention away from me––and rub my hands together, asking, “You?”

A bit of the brightness returns to her blue eyes. “Elementary education, actually.”

“Which is why you’re a tutor,” I surmise.

“Exactly. You’d be surprised how many college students like to act like kindergarteners.”

I laugh, surprising both of us. “I bet the similarities are uncanny.”

“You have no idea.” She picks up her pen and clicks the top of it with her thumb. “So, what brought you to LAU? Especially when it’s clear you don’t want to be here.”

“You think I don’t want to be here?”

She opens her mouth but closes it and bites her lower lip while shifting in her chair like she’s stepped in dog shit, and I think I know why.

“Oh, you mean because I said I’m undeclared, and you know my mom called up her buddy, the dean, and enrolled me at LAU after I got kicked out of my other school? Is that what you’re talking about?”

“I didn’t mean––”

“I know what you meant.”

She pauses, clicking the top of her pen a few more times. “I guess I’m surprised. You seem like someone who wouldn’t be afraid to go after what they want, yet here you are. Undeclared and clearly with no interest in school.”

Leaning back in my chair again, I fold my arms and say, “You’re right.”

She blinks. Surprised by my admission. “Did you just admit I’m right?”

“Are you not usually right?” I counter.

“No, I’m almost always right, but you don’t seem like someone who concedes easily.”

“I’m not afraid to call it like it is.”

“Well, if that’s the case, and you’re fully aware you have no interest in school, what are you doing here?”

It’s a good question. One I’ve been asking myself for weeks. Years, actually. Not since I got kicked out of Dixie Tech, but before. Before everything went to shit.

When I had my entire life laid out for me. When I knew what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be.

If only the answer was simple. But it isn’t. It’s messed up. Like my head. Like my past.

“You really don’t know who I am?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intend.

She shakes her head. “Why would I?”

“You’re dating Logan.”