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With a long, heavy sigh, I give Professor Doss a terse nod, causing her to break out into a bright, toothy smile. “Good choice. I’ll give him your student email, and he’ll be in contact.”

“Yippie,” I mutter, sounding asunenthused as possible.

Agitated,I quickly dash across campus toward the café to meet Stacia, hardly taking the time to notice the lush green grass lining the cobbled sidewalk or the gorgeous live oaks shading the path. Knight U has a breathtaking campus chock-full of the Southern Mississippi charm that I tend to take for granted due to being a lifelong native. People—mostly out-of-towners—always ask how I like living in such a small town. I guess they think with me beingmethat I must feel stifled in such tiny town smackdab in the middle of the Bible Belt, but Cottonwood is a fairly open-minded place—you know, except for the old money assholes.

I breeze through the double doors fifteen minutes past the time we agreed on, and knowing Stacia, she’s about to let me have it. I forego the order counter and make my way to our table in the far corner. “You’re late,” Stacia points out, just like I knew she would. Which is ironic, because swear to God, the girl will be late to her own funeral.

“Yup, sorry. Doss held me up,” I explain, and she huffs out a breath that scatters her wispy black bangs.

“Ugh. What for?”

“Apparently if I want her letter of recommendation, I have to tutor some beefcake athlete.”

Stacia blinks her big, brown doe eyes at me and straightens her septum ring before bursting out into raucous laughter. I glare at her, wholly unamused. “Oh my God, AJ. That’s amazing.”

“Check a dictionary. Amazing isnotthe word you’re looking for.”

“No, babe, it really is.”

“How so?” I demand, stealing her iced latte from where it was resting on the table in front of her.

She snatches it back. “Get your own.” Slowly, she gulps down several swallows before continuing. “And, it’s amazing because it will provide endless entertainment for me.”

“You’re a bitch,” I tell her, and she just laughs all the harder. “Whatevs. I’m out.” I stand from the table and sling my crossbody over my shoulder.

“You know you love me!” Stacia yells dramatically as I walk away from our table. Glancing back at her, I shoot her a wink and carry on my way.

It’s ten o’clock,and I’m deep into the paper I’m writing when the email notification on my laptop dings, alerting me to a new message. I clicksaveon my paper and switch over to my web browser. My inbox shows one new message from a B. Larson.

From:[email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Tutoring

Hey AJ,

Professor Doss gave me your email address and told me to reach out to you about tutoring. I’m available on Tuesdays and Thursdays at five. Meet me at the library.

-Brock

No,no, no, no.There’s that word again. Except this time, it’s a prayer. A down-on-my-knees-begging-I’m-wrong kind of prayer.Brock fucking Larson.The bane of my existence sinceage twelve. I blink at my screen in a daze.It can’t be.I reread the email at least six more times, desperately hoping for his name to magically change.

In a panic, I grab my phone and dial Stacia. She knows all about Brock and our stupid, sordid past—if you can even call it that. After all, she’s been my best friend since he ditched me. She comes from old money just like me, only her parents are loving and supportive.

Like a good girl, she answers on the first ring. “Knew you still loved me, AJ.”

“Always, but not the point. Brock Larson. Please,pleasetell me there are two Brock Larson’s enrolled here.”

“No can do, babe. Only one, why?” Her question is met with silence. I’m petrified that speaking it aloud will make it true—well, truer. Luckily, Stacia’s a smart girl and figures it out all on her own. “Oh, no way. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I was.”

“Sucks balls, AJ. That sucks balls.”

“Donkey ones,” I lament.

“You’re just gonna have to put on your big girl panties and deal with it. This letter is more than worth dealing with his particular brand of BS.”