After adding my campus crush on social, I spent every day sending him the thirstiest, most unhinged messages imaginable. “I can't sleep because I'm not sleeping with you.” “Life isn't crushing me, but I wish you were.” “Six feet apart? Nah, I want zero distance. Skin on skin.” Then, one day, I overheard someone ask him about it. "What did you do about that girl who keeps harassing you?" "Oh, her? I pawned her off on Liam. Let him deal with it." Liam. His roommate. The cold, sarcastic, impossible-to-read Liam. I turned around, right as Liam walked past me, his face completely expressionless. I smirked, pulled out my phone, and hit send on my latest masterpiece: “Gold is great, silver is fine, but nothing beats feeling your chest muscles.” Hey, a chase is a chase. If this guy doesn't want me, I’ll just take the upgrade. 1 My crush, Carter, sprained his ankle playing basketball. Naturally, I rushed to the hospital, planning to surprise him with a get-well visit. Before I could even push the door open, I heard laughter from inside the room. "Dude, that's brutal. You know Liam's got a tongue like a razor blade. He's gonna make her cry." "Seriously, you gave her Liam's number? Aren't you afraid he'll actually kill you?" Through the crack in the door, I saw Carter, leg in a cast, looking smug. "Liam knows I'm a softie," Carter said. "Swapping places was actually his idea." His other roommate leaned forward, excited. "No way. Liam volunteered? Carter, are you for real?" That’s when I noticed the third guy in the room. He was wearing a black hoodie, head down, focused intently on his phone. At the mention of his name, he glanced up lazily, his expression bored. "Yeah." "So... are you guys still texting?" the roommate asked. Before Liam could answer, Carter rolled his eyes. "Please. He probably blocked her ages ago. Why would Liam waste time on a girl chasing me? Is he sick?" Just as Carter finished speaking, Liam suddenly stood up, walked over to the bed, and snapped a photo of Carter's cast. "What are you doing?" Carter asked. "RA asked for proof," Liam deadpanned. Carter didn't suspect a thing. "Oh, okay." He went back to chatting. A second later, my phone buzzed in my pocket. “It hurts. I need wifey to kiss it better.” I tapped the notification. The photo on my screen was the exact same angle Liam had just taken. 2 I had added "Carter" two months ago. Or rather, I thought I added Carter. Turns out, I'd been sexting Liam for eight weeks. Back then, I confessed to Carter. He didn't reject me, but he didn't say yes either. Just gave me a vague "let's see later." I took that as a green light. After getting the number, I unleashed my inner demon. I sent him the most unhinged pick-up lines. And he didn't hold back. Three days a week, I got ab pics. He knew exactly what buttons to push. We went to different colleges, so we hadn't met up since the texting started. I never suspected a thing. Until a few days ago. My school was hosting the city-wide basketball league, and I heard Carter's team was playing. I signed up as a volunteer, excited to finally see "my man." And now, here I was, standing outside a hospital room, realizing I'd been catfished by the hottest guy on campus. My phone buzzed again. Liam was spamming me. “Guess I can't see you today, babe.” “Rain check until my leg heals?” “Hello? You mad?” My hands were cold, but my brain was weirdly calm. Whatever. A hot guy is a hot guy. If the chemistry is there, who cares about the name tag? “Yeah, I'm mad.” “I need to see Daddy's abs to feel better.” Inside the room, Liam seemed to let out a breath he'd been holding. “Be good. I'll show you tonight.” “No. Now.” I watched through the crack as Liam’s face twisted in a momentary struggle. Then, he stood up, face blank as ever. "Where you going, Liam?" "Bathroom." Two minutes later, a photo of rock-hard abs popped up on my screen. It was chilly today. If I zoomed in, I could see the goosebumps on his skin. “Happy now, princess?” “It'll do.” A beat later, he replied: “Next time I see you, I'm going to handle you.” The weekend of the league rolled around. Even though "Carter" was out with an injury, I had committed to volunteering. So, I braved the cold wind and headed to the gym. As soon as I arrived, a group of girls in red volunteer vests were freaking out. "OMG, Liam is here today!" "I thought he wasn't playing?" "Someone got hurt, so he's subbing in." "Bless that injured guy, seriously. We get to see the God of Basketball in action!" I was still wondering who this "God" was when the gym erupted in screams. The team from A-State walked in. I looked up, and my eyes locked straight onto the guy at the end of the line. Liam. The moment he saw me, his lazy, bored eyes sharpened. I pretended not to know him and looked away. Turns out, Liam was a bigger deal than Carter ever was. The whole game was basically The Liam Show. Even his teammates on the bench were whispering. "Liam is playing like a beast today. He's on fire." "Who was the one saying he was 'too lazy' for this tournament last week? He's playing like his life depends on it." On the court, Liam sank another three-pointer. After the shot, his eyes scanned the sidelines, looking for something. Or someone. His teammate leaned over. "Something's up. Liam is preening like a peacock. You think he's eyeing a girl?" "No way. My dad will remarry before Liam gets a girlfriend." The second quarter buzzer sounded. A swarm of people rushed over to hand Liam water. He ignored them all. He walked straight past them, toward his teammates... no, toward me. "You're a volunteer?" he asked, voice low. "Yeah." "I'm thirsty. Can you get me a water?" Before I could move, his teammate shoved a bottle forward. "Here, Liam, I got you." Liam ignored him. He stared at me, waiting. The silence was thick. Finally, I grabbed a bottle and handed it to him. Behind him, I heard his teammate whisper, "Holy sh*t. My dad might actually be getting remarried." 3 Unsurprisingly, Liam got MVP. During the award ceremony, I snapped a blurry photo of him. And sent it to "Carter." Me: “This guy goes to your school too?” "Carter": “Yeah.” "Carter": “Why?” Me: “Nothing. Just think he's kinda hot.” "Carter": “You like that type?” Me: “It's a vibe.” I paused, then typed out a lie that felt a little too true. Me: “If I met him earlier, I might not be chasing you.” He didn't reply immediately. I looked up at the podium. Liam looked conflicted. He was biting his lip, staring at his phone screen like it was a bomb defusal manual. Someone called his name, and he snapped out of it. He tapped out a reply. My phone buzzed. "Carter": “It's not too late now.” I looked up again. Liam was looking right at me. Our eyes met across the crowded gym. The air crackled. This time, I didn't look away. I gave him a small, secret smile. Then I typed: “Not too late, but I won't chase. I have you. That's enough.” 4 A few days later, I had an interview for a French tutoring gig. Funny enough, "Carter" had set it up. He said it was for a friend's kid. A teenage boy, apparently well-behaved. The pay was insane, so I took it seriously. Before the interview, "Carter" was blowing up my phone with advice. “Be safe on the way. Don't worry if you're late.” “Help yourself to snacks during the lesson. Don't be shy.” “If you need anything else, just ask. They'll say yes.” It was weirdly specific. Like he was the one hiring me. I was nervous on the way there, so I brushed it off. But when the door opened, my brain short-circuited. Liam stood there in grey sweatpants and a tee, looking effortlessly good. "We meet again, volunteer." "You... you're the parent?" "Is it possible I'm the student?" I blinked. "What?" Who sets up their own tutoring gig through a fake identity? While he went to the kitchen to get water, I texted "Carter." Me: “The student you referred is Liam?” A pause. "Carter": “Yeah.” Me: “Why didn't you tell me?” "Carter": “You said he was hot. Thought it would be a nice surprise.” Me: “Aren't you afraid I'll fall for him?” "Carter": “I trust you won't. And if you do, it means I wasn't good enough. I wouldn't blame you.” I snorted. This guy. Liam walked back in with a tray of fruit. He looked totally composed, like he hadn't just sent me a text dripping with fake insecurity. I stood up. "Sorry, there's been a misunderstanding. I don't think I can be your tutor." Liam raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" "I thought I was teaching a teenager..." "I'm nineteen." Okay, fair point. "That's not what I meant," I laughed. "Then what?" "You're too hot. I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself." "That's a reason?" "A pretty good one." He looked at me, eyes intense. "What if I said... I don't mind?" "I mind. You know about me and Carter, right?" At the mention of Carter's name, Liam's jaw tightened slightly. "What about him?" "I'm chasing him." "Right..." Liam took a step closer. He was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. He lowered his voice, husky and tempting. "What if we just... don't tell him?"
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