"You have to go to this party!" Maddy screams, sprawled dramatically across her bed, staring at me.

"I'm not falling for this again." I laugh, spinning lazily in my chair at my desk.

To my left, Lila remains unfazed, typing away on her laptop, clearly ignoring the conversation.

"Lila, help me out here! Convince her!" Maddy pleads.

Lila finally looks up, her expression flat. "Why would I do that? I'm not going either."

Maddy sits upright in disbelief. "What do you mean you're not going?"

"I'd rather stay in tonight. Catch up on some reading," Lila says simply, and it's clear Maddy does not approve.

"Exactly," I chime in, siding with Lila.

"What is wrong with you two?" Maddy groans, throwing her hands in the air. "This is college! We're supposed to be finding ourselves and having fun! Not locking ourselves up and studying."

"Actually, I think you've got it backwards," Lila teases, with a smile on her face.

Realizing she's fighting a losing battle, Maddy gives up with a theatrical huff and stomps toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Lila asks, barely glancing up, already used to Maddy's tantrums.

"Sophie's room. At least she appreciates my company," Maddy retorts, slamming the door behind her.

"Have fun," Lila calls out after her before turning her attention back to me. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Why?" I ask, tapping my pen rhythmically against the desk, my book still open to the same page I've been pretending to read for hours.

"You just...look like you've got something on your mind," she says, tilting her head slightly.

She's not wrong, but how could I explain it? My thoughts have been circling around Reid like a relentless tide. I can't stop wondering about her.

Red.

Who was she? Why did she have such a hold on him? Was she his "little flower"? If she was, why had he kissed me? Why string along all these other girls?

"I'm fine," I answer instead, forcing a smile.

Lila shrugs. "Alright, if you say so. Maddy's more suited for things like this anyway."

"Then why'd you ask?" I tease.

"I don't know. Just felt like I had to," she says with a small smile before turning back to her laptop.

I spin back to face my desk, trying once again to focus on my sociology textbook.

Chapter one -Introduction to Sociology.
Sociology is...

I let out a frustrated grunt, swiveling my chair back around.

"Yes?" Lila sighs, not even looking up.

"If you had a book with the dedication 'I will always love you, my little flower,'" I start.

Lila pauses, raising an eyebrow. "And...?"

"That's it. That's my question," I say, realizing mid-sentence how ridiculous I sound.

Lila chuckles softly. "You're hopeless. But fine, I'll listen, what's the story here? Is this about Reid?"

"No!" I say quickly. Too quickly.

Her lips twitch as if she's suppressing a smile. "Right. Sure. Well, if you're that curious, you should just ask him- sorry- them about it directly."

"Yeah, because that would go over so well," I mutter quietly.

Lila shrugs, wisely dropping the subject.

Minutes later, I'm still staring blankly at my textbook when her voice jolts me from my thoughts.

"Did Reid have a book with that inscription?"

I look up, startled. She's watching me now, her laptop abandoned.

"Why?" I ask cautiously.

"You've got that look," she says, coming to sit on my bed.

"What look?"

"That look," she emphasizes, pointing at me.

I sigh. "Fine. Yes, I saw it. But I don't know if it's his or if it was given to him."

"Easily solved," Lila says, grabbing her phone. "Come here."

Reluctantly, I join her on the bed as she pulls up an Instagram account called Reid's Little Girls.

"What?" I exclaim, my eyes widening.

"Yeah, it's like a bloody cult," Lila laughs.

I grab my phone and search the account. The pinned post catches my eye immediately. It's a picture of Reid modeling swimwear, his piercing gaze captivating even through the screen.

It's a picture I used to see everywhere—on billboards, in grocery stores, even on bus benches. I always did my best to ignore it, but something about his eyes in that photo made it impossible. They were intense, consuming, almost magnetic. I couldn't help but wonder what he'd been thinking when it was taken. What had stirred such fiery passion in his gaze?

The caption reads:

Welcome to Reid's Little Girls! 💕✨ We're thrilled to have you join our fan club, where we share everything about our favorite heartthrob. Want to join our exclusive group?
💌 Like this post.
💌 Follow us.
💌 Fill out the form linked below.
Answer the questionnaire, and if you pass, you'll gain access to our secret chat! 😘

I quickly tap the link, and the form opens.

Question 1:
If you were at gunpoint and could only save one person, you or Reid, who would you save?

Question 2:
If you picked yourself, please kindly exit. You're not one of us. If you chose Reid, type "yes" and proceed to Question 3.

"They're joking, right?" I laugh, turning my phone to show Lila.

She giggles. "They're dead serious," Lila says. "My roommate is one of them. Total madness."

Lila says she has something to show me, so I sit silently watching her scroll through the videos posted.

"Found it," Lila says, smiling and pulling me out of my thoughts. She turns her phone to show me a video of a girl smiling and waving at the camera. I squint at the screen, confused as to why Lila is showing me this—until the camera pans to reveal a bag.

That bag. It's the same one I saw earlier today hanging on Reid's shoulder.

The girl appears to be in a locker room of some kind.

"This can't be real," I mutter, looking at Lila in disbelief. Wasn't this a crime? And she was posting it for the world to see? How delusional were these girls?

In the video, the girl unzips the bag, does a shush motion to the camera before pulling out a notebook, sniffing it for some reason, and then placing it down to flip through the pages as the recording continues.

"So? Is the handwriting the same as what you saw?" Lila asks.

I shake my head. "No."

It's not. The writing I'd seen earlier was more cursive, fluid. Reid's handwriting—bless his heart—was anything but elegant. It was messy, like he wrote in a rush to get everything down before losing the thought.

The video keeps playing in the background, with the girl, taking each item out of the bag, but then something catches my eye. My breath hitches.

Nestled inside the bag is the gift I'd given Reid before he graduated—a small leather keychain with an engraved message: property of Reid Carter. He used to throw away gifts, claiming they were unnecessary or sentimental clutter. I'd assumed he'd done the same with mine. But there it was, unused but kept.

Stop overthinking, Isla. He didn't even know it was from me. I hadn't signed my name.

I bury my face in my hands, trying to calm the flood of emotions.

"So what now?" Lila asks, her tone casual but curious.

"I'm not sure," I admit, still staring at the paused video.

"Well, now you know the book was gifted to him. And if it bothers you this much, that means you like him."

"I don't."

"Look, my advice? Ignore it, your feelings. You're grown, so I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I'll remind you of who he is. I know we just met, but I don't want you to get hurt. And trust me, it always ends like that."

She's right. She's the second person to give me this warning—the first being Oliver. Getting caught up in Reid's charm only ever led to one outcome: heartbreak. Think of Aaliyah.

"I know," I say, forcing a smile.

"Alright, now that we've settled that, let me go find Maddy before she gets herself into trouble," Lila says, heading for the door.

"Hey, Lila," I call out. She stops and turns to face me.

"Thank you," I say softly.

She smiles. "You got it, PP."

I laugh at her weird nickname for me—short for Pampered Princess.

"Now stop with all this mushiness; it might give me hives," she jokes, leaving the room.

Lila acts tough, but she's deeply caring. It shows in the way she looks out for Maddy and, even though we've just met, for me. She's always checking if I'm okay, trying to include me when Maddy brings up inside jokes. She's like a mama hen watching over her chicks, even if she'll never admit it.

Deciding that studying isn't going to happen tonight, I throw myself onto my bed, letting my thoughts swirl.

Reid had kept the keychain. I couldn't shake the feeling that whoever had given him that book—the one from that night—was Red. And the thought made my chest tighten.

Just as I start to drift off, my phone chimes.

Instagram Notification
Reid Carter sent you a message.

My breath catches. What could he possibly want?

I open it hesitantly.

Reid: Can you come pick me up?

What?

Isla: Where are you?

I type but hesitate and delete it after.

Isla: Why?

I send instead, he replies instantly.

Reid: You don't want to?

Does he even know who he's texting?

Isla: Do you know this is Isla?

Reid: Lol. Obviously. Do you think I'd text you by mistake?

Before I can respond, another message comes through.

Reid: Please. Oliver's busy with some initiation rubbish, and I can't ask anyone else.

Against my better judgment, I type:

Isla: Sure. Send me your location.

His reply is immediate.

Reid: Thanks, love. I owe you one.

I sigh, tossing my phone aside. Hey! Don't judge me—I'm only human.

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