Seriously, out of over 300 million people in the US, you probably couldn't find someone having worse luck than me. First, I didn't get into grad school. Then, the guy I chased for three whole years finally became my boyfriend, only to dump me less than three months later to study abroad. Right after that, my own mother, Mrs. Miller, used every trick in the book—threats and bribes—to get me to meet her best friend's son. Coffee Shop "How old did you say you were?" "Nineteen." Oh, good grief! I never thought the "accomplished, handsome young man" Mom raved about would turn out to be just a kid! I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. What do you do when your own mother is completely unreliable? Help needed ASAP, seriously urgent. "What's wrong? Is there a problem?" "Look, kiddo, do you know how old I am?" "Yeah, twenty-two. They say age is just a number, right? I think it's perfect." He adjusted his glasses, flashing this killer smile with two big white teeth. Kinda cocky but charming. I spaced out for a second. "Ahem," realizing I'd drifted off, I shook my head to clear the thoughts, covering my awkwardness with a cough. "Uh, kiddo, I really don't think we're a match. I'm not into younger guys." "So, what type do you like, then?" Oh my god, oh my god. I didn't want to swoon, but he was smiling at me. I wanted to control myself, but, but, but... he just had this way about him! Who could resist that? Okay, calm down. I secretly pinched myself. "I like mature, stable guys. Someone who can take care of people. You're just too young for me, kiddo." I already had one infuriating younger brother at home; did I really need another one to ruin my peace? Nope, couldn't let myself be swayed by good looks. Sure, he was handsome, but he was young. Sure, his smile was amazing, but he was young. Sure, his voice was nice, but he was YOUNG! "How do you know I can't take care of someone? And how do you know I'm not mature and stable enough? Have you tried me out, older girl?" He had a smirk playing on his lips. If I wasn't mistaken, that was a cold smirk, right? Right? "Chloe? What are you doing here?" That voice. I froze solid. I knew exactly who it was. After hearing it for over three years, it was hard not to recognize. My smile vanished. Honestly, I wasn't sure what expression was on my face. Anger? Sadness? Disgust? Nausea? This messy mix of feelings peaked when I saw the woman next to him. Mark Davis. The boyfriend I'd chased for three years in college. We were together less than three months before he decided to go abroad, telling me with some twisted sense of righteousness, "I'm worried you'll fall for someone else while I'm gone, so let's break up for now. If you still like me when I come back in a few years, we can get back together." In that moment, I suddenly felt like a joke in Mark's eyes. No, a joke to the entire English department at Hudson University. Everyone knew how head-over-heels I was for Mark. Everyone knew Mark had ruthlessly dumped his girlfriend right before leaving the country. And the woman beside him, Jessica Bell, was Mark's childhood friend. She always found ways to trash-talk me in public, saying I wasn't good enough for Mark. That I didn't deserve to be his girlfriend. "Chloe?" Suddenly, a handsome face zoomed into my view, startling me so much that the tears welling up in my eyes retreated. I stared blankly at him. "Ex-boyfriend?" he asked. I nodded numbly. His eyes darted around mischievously, then he lowered his voice, "You've got three seconds. Be my girlfriend, and I'll get your back." The moment I grabbed his hand, I felt like I'd lost my mind. We'd literally broken up yesterday, and today I had a new boyfriend right in front of my ex. But what did it matter? Jerks needed to be put in their place. I turned around gracefully. "Fancy meeting you here. I'm just having coffee with my boyfriend. What about you guys?" "See, Mark? I told you she was easy, didn't I? You didn't believe me, but now you see." The drama queen beside him started her performance, clinging to his arm and putting on a fake sweet act. This kind of insult used to happen all the time. Predictably, Mark would question me about it next. "Chloe, what is really going on?" Yep, there it was. He put on his betrayed, heartbroken, pitiful face. Usually, at this point, I'd frantically explain myself, and only then would his expression soften. But this time, I wasn't going to. "Ma'am," before I could even open my mouth, the kiddo jumped in, ready to roast her. "You're probably getting on in years, maybe your hearing isn't what it used to be. I suggest you see an ear specialist. Oh, and while you're at it, maybe get your eyes checked too, since they seem to be just for decoration." He had somehow moved next to me, stepping forward slightly, one arm around my shoulder, the other hand taking mine. He interlocked our fingers and waved them right in front of Mark and Jessica. "My Chloe already told you, she has a boyfriend now. Don't go associating any random losers with our Chloe." He turned slightly to face Mark. "And you... the ex-boyfriend, right? Chloe often says, a good ex-boyfriend should basically be dead. Look, you weren't great as a boyfriend; now that you're an ex, you could at least try to be good at that, couldn't you?" I secretly gave him a thumbs-up. Mark's face turned livid. He spun around and stormed off, his little follower scurrying after him. 2: Might As Well Give It a Try "Hahahaha, kiddo, you're absolutely savage! How are you so good at shutting people down? That felt amazing, hahaha..." Suddenly, I felt this huge release, lighter than I had in three whole years. But there was still a knot of something uncomfortable, heavy in my chest. Compared to my roaring laughter, he was completely calm, the earlier aggressive vibe totally gone. He pulled me back down to sit, settling beside me. I was still trying to process his quick changes when he sighed softly, patted my shoulder, and said, "Go ahead and cry if you want to. You can lean on my shoulder for a bit." That broke me. Tears I didn't even know were there started streaming down my face. Failing the grad school entrance, getting dumped by my boyfriend... all the stress and hidden emotions I'd suppressed for so long just burst out. "Why are you so annoying?" I glared at him through my tears. He gently turned my head to rest on his shoulder, saying nothing. After pulling myself together in the restroom, he offered to walk me home. On the way, I carefully started, "Um, kiddo... can I, like, take back what I said earlier?" He instantly understood and shot me down firmly, "Nope." Damn it! I rubbed my temples. What a mess. I must have had a total brain malfunction back there. He suddenly stopped walking. "I'm serious. Even though I'm still in school, I have a steady income every month. You can have my debit card, spend whatever you want. Don't worry about me not being able to support you, and don't feel like you need to save my money. I have clear plans for my future, and you're in every single one of them, so you don't have to worry about me being immature. As for taking care of someone, I haven't done it before, but I can learn. Can you give me that chance?" "But... you don't even like me. Why me?" I was a bit stunned. "How do you know I don't like you?" he countered. "We just met today! Are you going to tell me it was love at first sight?" He shook his head. "Not exactly. The day you start liking me back, I'll tell you. For now, can you just give me a chance to be with you? Let's try things out. If you really feel like you can't accept me, then you can say you regret it. I won't stop you." Seeing the determination in his eyes, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to say no. Whatever, I thought. Might as well give it a try. When he gets tired of it, I won't have to deal with rejecting him. He walked behind me all the way home. When we got to my apartment building, I suddenly realized I knew almost nothing about him. I pulled out my phone. "Need your number... boyfriend." He blinked, then grinned. "Sure." Kinda dorky, actually cute. "So, may I ask my boyfriend's name?" "Ethan Shaw. Ethan, like the name. Shaw, like George Bernard." "I'm Chloe Miller." "I know." "Huh? How did you know?" He just smiled without answering. After a moment, he patted my head gently. "Go on up." Before falling asleep that night, I habitually checked my phone. I saw he'd texted me about ten minutes ago: Goodnight. The next day at noon, heading to class, I was shocked to find him waiting downstairs from my apartment. "What are you doing here?" "Keeping you company in class." "Oh." I walked a few steps before it hit me. "Wait, with me? Not just walking me to class?" "Yep." He repeated it clearly, as if worried I hadn't heard. "Keeping you company in class." Just as I expected, the moment he walked into the classroom, there was a commotion. No surprise there – he was ridiculously good-looking and dressed way too cool. Today he wore a blue and white baseball jacket, black casual pants, and still had his glasses on. On the surface, he looked like a good boy, but it couldn't hide the edgy vibe he gave off. He just had that natural "keep away" aura, especially when he wasn't smiling, looking like he might pick a fight any second. When the professor came in, he slumped onto the desk and started sleeping. Halfway through the lecture, my phone started buzzing non-stop in my bag pocket. I opened my messenger app to find I'd been added to a group chat, already flooded with 99+ messages. Rolling my eyes, I started scrolling up.
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