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What the hell is the matter with me?

Zara was hot. Here. Interested. She’s not my tutor and although I don’t know her last name, I’m positive it’s not Keller.

Rylan isn’t here. But I’m still thinking about her. Still remembering how her candidlesswhen I asked what she thought the number was hit me in the center of my chest and why I was so fucking relieved when she told me she hasn’t hooked up with anyone else since me.

I’m acting like I’m in a committed relationship with her, while she’s kissing random guys at parties.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from…Rylan Keller.

There are fucking flutters in my stomach as I rush to unlock the screen.

RYLAN: I’m calling bullshit on you asking for my number for “academic purposes.”

I smirk, then text her right back.

AIDAN: If I agree with your bullshit call, are you going to block me?

RYLAN: IDK. Agree and find out.

AIDAN: I’m calling bullshit on you believing I wanted your number for “academic purposes.”

She doesn’t respond right away this time, so I send heranother message.

AIDAN: I need help.

RYLAN: With random variables and discrete probability distributions?

AIDAN: What’s that?

RYLAN: Your latest assignment, Aidan.

AIDAN: I don’t need math help.

AIDAN: I need help with you.

AIDAN: Because I’m not sure if we’re good or not.

AIDAN: Did Tuesday freak you out again?

RYLAN: I’m not freaked out.

RYLAN: We’re good.

AIDAN: You haven’t blocked me.

RYLAN: How’d you know?

AIDAN: Smartass.

AIDAN: Are you feeling better?

RYLAN: Yeah, thanks.

AIDAN: My tongue is available, if you relapse.

AIDAN: Or just want to get off.

RYLAN: That was a one-time thing.