I chased Luke Sterling for two years. Every gift I gave him, he tossed to his roommate with a look of pure annoyance. So, on his birthday, I skipped the middleman. I gave the gift directly to his roommate and vanished. Later, Luke called, his voice thick with irritation. "What did she send this time? What kind of game is she playing?" His roommate glanced at me, currently lounging on his bed, and replied in a lazy drawl. "Something to eat." "Did you take it?" Jax hummed a "yes," lowering his head to meticulously clean the sheets. "Yeah." "I ate it all. Don't bother coming back." 1 The day before Luke's birthday, my roommate asked me, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Jenna, what did you get Luke this time?" I didn't even look up from my laptop. "Nothing." She paused, stunned. "But... isn't his birthday tomorrow? You're obsessed with him. Usually, you go all out..." I cut her off. "I don't like him anymore." She stared at me like I’d just announced the sky was green. "Are you joking? Is this because Luke was grinding on that girl, Chloe, at the mixer?" Predictable. At the Freshman Welcome Mixer, the crowd had peer-pressured Luke and Chloe, the campus "It Girl," into a slow dance. It got heated. It got intimate. The air was thick with tension. Everyone in the room had turned to look at me. They expected a breakdown. A scene. Tears. But I just smiled, turned around, and walked away in silence. Everyone knew I had a thing for Luke Sterling. For two years, I had been his shadow. Need coffee at 6 AM? I was there. Forgot an assignment? I dropped it off. For his birthday last year, I spent two months and half my savings tracking down a signed jersey from his favorite NBA player. When I dropped it off at his dorm, he didn't even look at it. "I didn't ask for this," he scoffed. "I'm busy. Just give it to Jax." I had heard that sentence so many times my ears were bleeding. Jax was Luke's roommate. Ten times I went to see Luke, nine times he "wasn't there." When I asked where he was, he’d just tell me to leave my stuff with Jax. But Jax—Jax Wilder—was the campus "Ice King." Every time I knocked on their door, he looked at me like I was a pest. Eventually, I stopped wanting to bother him, too. 2 My declaration that I was "over Luke" spread through the dorms like wildfire overnight. The next day, I went to the campus mail center to pick up a package. On my way back, I ran into Luke and his entourage. Someone spotted the box in my hands and laughed. "See, Luke? No way Jenna is over you." "She was just jealous yesterday. Playing hard to get." "Look at that box. She obviously bought you a gift anyway." Luke looked over. The stormy expression he’d worn earlier softened into something smug. He smirked, extending a hand toward me with rare generosity. "Since we're both here, just hand it over." I clutched the box tighter and took a step back. "Hand what over?" Luke froze. His brow furrowed in annoyance. "Don't play dumb." "Jenna, I don't have time to flirt with you right now." I looked him dead in the eye and asked, sincerely: "Then can you stop blocking the sidewalk?" Luke’s hand was still hovering in the air, stiff as a board. I walked around him without looking back. Behind me, the whispers started immediately. "Luke, don't be mad. She's just salty about yesterday." "That box had 'Gift' written all over it. Who else would it be for?" "She probably wants to go back and wrap it properly. You know how extra she is." Through the chorus of excuses, I heard Luke scoff coldly. "Whatever. Who cares." 3 I was planning to wrap the gift. But it wasn't for Luke. A week ago, I heard Luke was sick. I rushed to the pharmacy, bought cold meds, and ran to his dorm. But before I got to the door, I saw Luke and his friends walking out. One of them was tossing a pile of stuff into the dumpster by the entrance. "I don't get why Jenna sends all this junk," he complained. "She made this herself, right? Craftsmanship is okay, I guess." "So what? Chloe didn't like it, so Luke had to toss it." "She should've sent something expensive. At least we could've pawned it..." "Hey, think she'll bring medicine today since Luke's sick?" "Duh. I bet twenty bucks on it." Luke’s voice cut through the air, cold and dismissive. "Don't bet on things that don't matter." They walked away, laughing. The "junk" in the dumpster was everything I had given Luke. Two years of gifts. Things I made because he said he liked a certain style. Things I queued for hours to buy because he liked a post on Instagram. Handmade. Custom-ordered. Heartfelt. And now, trash. Watching their backs, I suddenly felt... empty. I was about to throw the bag of medicine into the dumpster too. But then, a shadowy figure emerged from the dorm hallway. Cap pulled low, mask up. He looked around cautiously, then dove into the trash. He started picking up the things Luke had just thrown away. He gathered them up and sprinted back into the building. He was careful, terrified of being seen. But as he reached for a box, his sleeve rode up. I saw the limited-edition Patek Philippe watch. And I recognized the broad shoulders beneath the black hoodie. It was Jax. 4 Jax Wilder was actually more popular than Luke. Richer, hotter, taller. The guy everyone whispered about but no one dared approach because he radiated "Do Not Disturb" energy. I remembered the first time I gave Luke cookies I baked myself. Luke glanced at the tin and tossed it onto his desk with a sneer. "You made these? Is it safe to eat?" I stood there, humiliated, staring at the tin. Jax was in the room, leaning back in his chair. Without a word, he reached out with a long arm, snagged the tin, and popped a cookie into his mouth. "No poison. Tastes fine." Luke clicked his tongue. "You like 'em? You take 'em." Jax shrugged, grabbing another one. "Sure." Luke had always dumped my gifts on Jax. Jax had always been rude, but he had never rejected them. But I never imagined... That the high-and-mighty Jax Wilder, the campus prince, would dig through a dumpster for my "junk." 5 I wrapped the package and walked to the boys' dorm. I called Jax. "Jax, I'm downstairs. I have something for you." The background noise on his end was loud. His voice came through, lazy and indifferent as always. "Luke's birthday gift?" I rushed to correct him. "No. It's a gift for you." Silence. A long pause. "For me?" His tone was skeptical. "Yeah. Can you come down?" He was down in two minutes. He looked like he hadn't even checked a mirror—hair messy, a long black trench coat thrown over a t-shirt. "What is it?" I tugged gently on his sleeve. "Can we go inside?" Jax’s eyes narrowed instantly. "You want to go up to my room?" I nodded. His voice dropped several degrees. "So you can wait there for Luke to come back?" He let out a short, cold laugh, eyeing the box in my hand. "Is this a bribe?" Jax rarely showed emotion. Even over the phone, I could handle him. But face-to-face with those icy eyes, I was intimidated. "No..." He turned to leave. My hand moved faster than my brain. I grabbed his forearm. My voice wobbled. "Jax, please believe me." "I'm not looking for Luke. I don't like him anymore..." "Can you just... not mention him?" Jax stopped. He turned slowly, staring at my face. "Why are you crying?" His voice was gruff. Almost annoyed. I sniffled, looking up at him. "I swear." Jax stared at me for what felt like forever. Then he looked away, waving a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Don't tell me that stuff." "I'm not interested."
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