Page 19 of Playing By Their Rules

He gives me a quick half-hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Just your mind, babes.”

“Hey! Hey!” a voice shouts from behind us.

We turn around and there’s Mina, rushing down the path. Crap. This wasn’t part of the plan.

“There you are,” she says when she reaches us, huffing and puffing.

I wonder how long she was chasing us for.

“Here we are,” I say.

She grins and looks between us, still catching her breath. “Caitlyn wanted an extra shift, so I have the night off. Let’s go get some dinner. There’s a new Thai place near Blackberry Park.”

“Uhhh…” Bradley says. “We can’t. Not tonight. Rain check?”

Mina looks between us again. “What are you doing instead?”

Crap. Whatever I say, she’s going to try to invite herself along.

“Um, office hours for one of my psych classes,” I say, hoping I’m not giving her too much information. “Bradley’s just walking me there because he has a…what was it again?”

“Oh, a seminar,” he says smoothly. He’s a much better liar than I am. “Boring shit. Tomorrow, though.”

He grabs my elbow and hurries me up the steps before Mina can ask any more questions. I wave back at Mina and feel a pang of regret at seeing the crestfallen expression on her face.

“I feel bad lying to her about this,” I whisper once we’re inside the building. The air conditioner is on high and goosebumps immediately rise on my skin.

“That girl needs to be on an information diet where you’re concerned,” he says. “I never really thought she was copying you, but damn, dude, she’s really copying you.”

“Even though I told you she was,” I say.

He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, okay? I already apologized for that.”

He has apologized. I begrudgingly forgave him.

“All right, all right.” I peer down the hall and see an open door with light spilling from it. “There’s his office.”

“And it looks like he’s there,” Bradley says, rubbing his hands together in eagerness.

My phone’s display reveals that we’re close to six p.m., which means Professor Wexton’s office hours are just about over. Sure enough, two students from Ab Psych exit the office and walk the opposite direction from Bradley and me. A moment later, Chance’s door closes.

Bradley grins. “It’s showtime.”

7

IN ALL THE WORLD

Ethan

I hate bringing work home, so I read over one of my grad students’ thesis proposals at my university office. Her writing needs some polish, but the concepts and research are pretty strong. I make a note to talk to her about finding a writing tutor before submitting it to a journal, but she should definitely submit it to a journal once it’s polished.

As soon as I’ve finished typing the comment into the doc, my phone buzzes with a notification. I glance down to see a text from Chance. Are you still on campus?

Yeah, what’s up?

Come to my office.

Sometimes I fucking hate texts. There’s no tone. Is this an emergency—did his desk fall on top of him and he’s trapped? Or does he have a question he can’t ask over the phone for some reason? Or does he just want to see if I want to go to Abdul’s for a drink but he doesn’t feel like typing it out?

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