I rushed forward, caught in that awkward distance from the door where I was kinda far away, but the person in front of me still decided to hold the door open, which was a nice person thing to do, but then I had to hustle through the slush, or they'd be standing there for too long and–

My heartbeat raced, and it wasn't because I'd speed-walked across campus.

"Logan?" I stopped short, staring at the beanie-wearing, dark-haired guy holding the door open.

He glanced over his shoulder and did a double-take.

I held in my laughter.

"Nat?" Logan blinked at me as I brushed past him into the warmth of the building.

Muffled music leaked out of someone's headphones nearby. I smoothed back my hair that'd stuck onto my lip gloss.

"You in Professor Yousuf's business class too?" Logan asked as he followed me in, the door shutting behind him.

I nodded as I shoved my mittens into my pockets and unzipped my heavy-duty jacket, probably looking like a marshmallow.

He rubbed his hands together to warm them up, wearing a green hoodie with a black jacket that definitely wasn't winter-appropriate, but it was fashionable and very Logan.

"What're the chances of us being in the same class?" I chuckled and dropped my backpack on the bench to shrug out of my jacket.

"Actually pretty high; we're both first-years in–"

"That was rhetorical." I smiled, and he gave me a sheepish grin in return.

Heat radiated through my chest. Jeez, Logan hadn't changed at all in three years. Well, maybe he did grow a little. Now I had to look up to meet his gaze.

Guess the Summit University timetable gods decided to smile down on me today. It sucked when I didn't know anyone in my classes.

"Gotcha, gotcha." Logan tucked his thumbs under the straps of his backpack. "How have you been?"

Oh crap.

My stomach hardened.

I never replied to his DM!

Clearing my throat and letting out a little cough to stall, I slowly picked my backpack up again.

Gotta say something, Nat.

"I'm great, actually," I said without meeting his eyes. Who knew the fire extinguisher on the wall could be so fascinating? "Sorry about never replying to your DM, I kept meaning to get around to it, then I forgot, not that I meant to forget about you, you're not forgettable or anything like that, I'm the scatter-brained one here in this scenario–"

He placed a hand on my shoulder and gave a light squeeze. "It's all good. Sorry for taking so long to reply– I deleted Instagram off my phone last summer and only just redownloaded it over the break. I can honestly say I wasn't expecting a pro/con list from you."

A tingle swept up the back of my neck. I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

Why hadn't I ever gotten around to unsending those gosh darn messages?

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!

Dragging a hand down my face, I groaned. "Jeez, don't take that seriously, please."

I started in the direction of the stairs. Or at least I think that's where the stairs were; I'd never been in this building before. If only I could be swept up into the welcome anonymity of losing myself in the tide of students between classes.

Logan caught up with me, shoes squeaking against the floor. "My pros are pretty great– smartest person you've ever met that isn't a dick about it, smells good all the time, body like a Greek god chiselled out of–"

"Alrighty, that's enough. I take back the humble comment." I crossed my arms across my chest in mock-annoyance.

He took off his beanie and carved a hand through his hair. "Cons are spot on though: oblivious as all heck– had absolutely no clue I had a crush on him for four years."

Yup. Ages twelve to sixteen, Logan Kalua was the name I doodled hearts around. Not that I ever actually did that. That'd be totally weird.

I let out a shallow sigh. "I can't believe you didn't know, we went to summer camp together every summer since we were what, eleven?"

"Ten, but who's counting." He shrugged. "And I didn't know, at all. Plus, you stopped coming to camp."

I climbed up the stairs. "High school, life got busy, you know."

"I do know." The smile on his lips reached his glossy and bright eyes.

We made it to the third floor and waited while the class before ours filed out. I squinted at the afternoon light streaming through the overhead windows.

"I've kept up with Daisy & Paper Co. I should've known the girl that used to sell her friendship bracelets in the arts and crafts cabin would start her own business." He nudged me with his shoulder.

Face, neck, and ears going impossibly hot, I fiddled with a loose string from my shirt. Why did I always get so flustered when people brought up Daisy & Paper Co.?

Instead of talking about my business, I swallowed and joked with him. "I made some pretty cool bracelets, you have to admit."

His brown eyes darted to mine.

"I know, I still have this one." He pulled out his keys. Lo and behold, dangling, there was a rainbow friendship bracelet, albeit a little ratty and tattered, but the same one I'd made him.

I took a step back.

"No way, I do too!" I rummaged around for my lanyard in my backpack.

The same year Mom and Dad split, I bawled my eyes out and talked to Logan about it. At the end of that summer, we made these bracelets and promised we'd–

"Mine's so ugly." He cut off my thoughts, his fingers brushing mine as he grabbed the knotted bracelet on my lanyard.

Of course, Logan would say that. He never was pleased with anything he did.

"It's not perfect, but it's not ugly either." It's the little imperfections that made it perfect. But I didn't say that. Obviously, I wasn't that much of a cheeseball.

Gosh, we used to tell each other everything.

How Logan wanted to be an astronaut, and I wanted to be a spy (completely not influenced by Totally Spies and Kim Possible).

How Logan hated Tom Lindsey for calling him names, and I hated Tom Lindsey too in solidarity (Tom Lindsey didn't like it when I punched him in the nose, but he stopped being mean to Logan, so it worked).

How Logan thought his parents forgot about him after his sister's diagnosis, and I thought Dad forgot me when he left (Dad didn't forget me, he just didn't care anymore, for the record).

And then I sent Logan a stupid pro/con list.

Air decided not to fill my lungs fully as my belly knotted. My brows gathered in.

I sucked in a breath. "The texts were a drunk mistake, I made these pro/con lists at the beginning of the year for guys I had crushes on–"

"You mean I wasn't the only one?" Logan displayed a wide grin as he held open the door to the class. "Way to make a guy feel special, Nat."

Like that, the weirdness my pro/con list had created dissipated. In that Logan way, with an easy smile and playful shove, it was like the years we hadn't talked never existed.

"Oh shut up, you had your fair share of crushes if I remember correctly." I shot him a look as we walked into class. Marker smells from newly hung posters on the wall by the door stung my nose. We sat in two random seats in the middle of the room.

"And I used to tell you all about them." He winced. "Sorry Nat, I really didn't know you liked me. If I had–"

"No what-ifs." I settled into my chair. "I should've had a vagina of steel and told you back then. I saw you in line at Tims during orientation week and wrote down your pro/con list even though I knew you're with Zahra, the pro/con lists weren't ever supposed to leave the safe haven of my notes app."

"Zahra and I broke up at the end of Grade 12– she went to Fortuna, and we didn't want to do long-distance."

"Oh." I pulled out my laptop. "We hadn't talked, so I got all my info from you on Instagram." And Facebook, but that'd be creeper to mention, who goes on Facebook anymore?

He gave a cheeky wink. "Now you can get it straight from the source, seeing as we'll both be in this class for the rest of the semester."

"Right." I opened up a fresh Google doc.

Professor Yousuf walked in. Wow, she looked only a couple of years older than us and was rocking a monochrome pink look. She wore a silk blouse and some fun, wide-leg pants. Her hijab was a lighter shade of pink. Usually, I'd say pink overboard, but her mixing of fabrics was a Pinterest-worthy aesthetic.

He leaned over and whispered to me while Professor Yousuf started class.

"I have to know– what do I smell like?"

Like the summertime and warmth and home.

"Tarragon and cinnamon," I mumbled instead.

"Look, we did see each other before our date," Ty said, the audio crackling as Beckett's Jeep hit a pothole.

I shook my head and leaned back in my uncomfy plastic chair. "FaceTime doesn't count."

"Noted." He clamped his lips together, eyes lit with an inner glow.

I adjusted my headphones and glanced around the pretty empty seating area. Not many people in the English building on Wednesday afternoons, apparently.

Will and Beckett said something in the background.

The sound of the engine cut out, so they must've arrived at the arena.

"Have fun at practice, don't hit too many home runs on Beckett."

"Hey, I heard that!" Beckett called out from the front seat, offended at my lack of confidence in his goalie-ing skills. "And that's baseball, Nat!"

Duh, knew that.

I rolled my eyes, piling on the dramatics, and Ty gave me a dimpled grin.

My heart hammered in my chest. Couldn't Friday come sooner?

Doors slammed, probably from Beckett and Will.

"I'll talk to you later, Ty," I said since he didn't hang up.

Muffled, I heard Will calling for him.

Ty glanced up, then back at me, well, the phone.

"Good luck with Davis, Sunshine," he said.

I pressed the red button to hang up.

Sighing, I stared up at the ceiling with a lightness in my limbs, an overall feeling of weightlessness. We could only chat for fifteen minutes in the only time we both had free– Ty was on his way to the arena, and I had time to kill before my first meeting with Professor Davis.

I checked the time. Ten minutes to go, not really enough time to start anything new.

My knee bounced under the table as my brain popped around my mental to-do list. For some reason, those thoughts kept ping-ponging back to business class yesterday.

Chewing on a hangnail, I clicked the little blue app on my phone.

My timeline on Facebook loaded, the first post an ad for some diet, fit tea. Bleh.

Eyes narrowing, I typed "Logan Kalua" into the search bar and clicked on his smiling profile picture.

My nose wrinkled.

Logan hadn't updated it in a while. I scrolled– his parent's engineering firm won an award, and he was tagged in the photo, randomness, happy birthday wishes.

Aha! A photo dump from his prom. He'd still been with Zahra then, and from some more scrolling, it seemed like they'd been together since the end of grade eleven, maybe.

Huh. I swore Zahra came to Summit too, guess not.

Before I could think about it more, a banner notification popped up.

Friend request from Vik Chabra.

A wave of cold hit me. I turned away from my phone and covered my mouth.

Dad wanted to be my friend on Facebook? After years of nothing, he decided to send me a friend request?

I shook my head repeatedly. Nope, nope, nope.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I glared at his picture. Okay, gotta check out his profile.

Heart shrinking, my lips pressed tight into a grimace.

Right in his banner, he stood there, arm wrapped around a woman and– I quit the app.

Don't do this, Nat.

Don't go down this rabbit hole.

Delete friend request.

I clicked my phone asleep and shoved it in my pocket.

Slowly, I inhaled a deep breath and exhaled.

Forget about this.

Go to Professor Davis' office and be the best mentee ever.

I left the seating area and went up to his office on the fourth floor.

Office 403. Were there voices talking?

I double-checked the office. Yup, 403.

Okay, then.

My knuckle rapped against the wood door.

"Come in," Professor Davis' deep baritone said.

I opened the door to Professor Davis' office. My eyes landed on the second person in the room.

Skin tingling with discomfort, I released my tight grip on the doorknob.

Alec?

🚨NEW CHARACTER ALERT 🚨 NEW CHARACTER ALERT 🚨NEW CHARACTER ALERT 🚨NEW CHARACTER ALERT 🚨 NEW CHARACTER ALERT 🚨 NEW CHARACTER ALERT 🚨

introducing... LOGAN!

What do we think about him? Yay? Nay? Love? Hate? Stop talking Nikki, we get it?

Then there's a lil Ty, a lil more Logan, a dash of her Dad.

Aaaaaand Alec. He popped in there like... surprise!

Anywho, what's your preferred social media (apart from Wattpad, ofc)? Nat's is IG, but she creeps on FB too lmao. She'd 100% be on TikTok too, probs not Twitter.

Plus, how could I forget to say:

sMaSh tHe vOtE bUtTon 

Catch ya on the flip side ✌️ 

P.S. The lie last week was #2, I only have 1 sister :)