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I shrugged as I slipped the tome closer so I could scan it with my barcode reader and check it back in for her. “I told you it was written from the point of view of Death.” What did she expect was going to happen?

“But even Rudy ?” she insisted, pressing an impassioned hand to her chest. “I was sure he and Liesel were going to end up happily ever after together.”

I lifted one eyebrow in confusion. “Really?” At no point had I gotten the sense that the World War II story, which took place in Nazi Germany and began with the death of the main character’s brother and abandonment of her mother, would end in any kind of sunshine or rainbows.

“I mean, he didn’t even get the kiss he’d been begging for throughout the entire book.”

“Yes, he did,” I countered, blinking in surprise and beginning to wonder if she’d actually read any of it at all.

She had no idea a trio of guys had paused to check her out or that they scattered when she wailed, “Yeah, after he was dead ! Oh my God, Frankie. Just tear my heart to shreds, why don’t you? This shit was sad as fuck.”

Actual tears began to swim in her eyes, and they sparkled like crystals. I kid you not. She even looked pretty when she was on the verge of crying.

“I can’t believe you recommended something like this to me.”

I set my hand on the hardback and slid it protectively closer. “I’m sorry you didn’t like it.” I tried to ignore the sting of rejection as she dared to bash one of my favorite books.

“Oh, I loved it,” she assured. “The story was freaking amazing. It just broke my soul, that’s all. Now you have to recommend something a little more lighthearted with an upbeat ending that could patch me back together.”

I winced. “I don’t really read feel-good, happy books.”

“Well, you should try one,” Xander told me before brightening. “Ooh. Start with Where the Heart Is by Billie Letts. You won’t regret it.”

I doubted that. Happy, pretty, everything-ends-well books usually only left me feeling more depressed and worthless.

I mean, all the characters just seemed to have their lives so…

put together. They instinctively knew what to say and do and how to make friends.

They didn’t just survive in their little fictional universes; they freaking thrived .

And there were always, like, two or three different guys completely in love with the main girl.

I could relate to none of that crap. Not a single guy on this campus fancied me .

Death, however, was simple and familiar. It made your heart pound.

It was all the junk before dying—all the living business—I had never managed to grasp with much success.

“So anyway…” Xander tapped all ten of her fingers against the countertop and grinned excitedly, obviously already over her irritation with me for recommending an amazing book. “Are you coming to the big party tonight?”

It took everything I had to keep from snorting in her face. But seriously, why would she think I would even know about any party that happened in this town, much less attend it? People didn’t invite me to parties.

But she was watching me for an answer as if she thought I was normal. So I said, “Which party?”

“Oh! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She laughed and fluttered out a hand as if apologizing for her forgetfulness.

“Has no one told you about it yet? Well, I’m officially inviting you now.

We’re throwing this big bash tonight at Archer House to celebrate Foster’s win.

Everyone’s coming.” Rolling her eyes, she started off on one of her tangents.

“We were going to have it last weekend, but Oaklynn thought more people would make it if we waited until after the semester started, so now I bet the place is going to be flooded. I’m going to have to stand guard at the door to my bedroom so no one tries to use it as their own personal baby-making haven. ”

“Or you could just lock your door.”

Xander blinked then pointed at me. “Or I could just lock my door. See. This is why I need you there. Someone clearly needs to produce rational thoughts for me.” Smiling encouragingly, she waggled her eyebrows. “So what do you say? Will you come?”

“Uh.” I cringed. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

Her encouraging eyebrows deflated into a furrow. “What? Why not?”

“I’m not really a party kind of person.”

Head tilting, she hedged, “Because you’ve actually been to some and didn’t enjoy them? Or because you’re just too hesitant to even try one?”

She was going to make an issue of this, I could tell.

But I already knew with all certainty I didn’t need to try a single party to know I wouldn’t like them. Parties meant people, mingling, socializing, crowds , and just basically everything that made me panic and perspire.

“Look, you know where Archer House is, right?” Xander asked, not giving up on the topic.

I wrinkled my nose. “No.” Why would I know where Archer House was?

“Well, I’m going to text you the address,” she announced. “And if you decide to give it a try, you’ll know where to go. Okay?”

I sighed, wondering why I’d agreed to give her my number last month when she’d asked for it. Maybe because I’d never thought she’d actually use it.

Except she did. Constantly.

“Whatever,” I mumbled, just as someone called Xander’s name in greeting.

She and I both turned to see two guys approaching.

One was super tall with luscious, dark, curly hair and vivid blue eyes, while the other was still tall, but normally so.

He also had dark hair, but it wasn’t at all curly and pretty.

And his eyes were in no way a beautiful sparkling blue; they were more of a muddy, mossy, green-brown color, like bog water.

But he walked with a swagger and confidence that made him stand out more than his tall, pretty-haired, beautiful-eyed counterpart.

And the mere sight of him made my eyes narrow. My lips instinctively curled into an ominous snarl, and my blood pressure skyrocketed because he was also, unfortunately, the reason why I knew without a shadow of a doubt I preferred guys over girls.

It irritated me to no end how much I was attracted to this…being.

And right on cue, he smiled—at Xander, of course, not at me—making everything inside me freaking flutter .

I was not the fluttering type. I wasn’t the girl who grew crushes.

I didn’t blush in the presence of pretty boys.

I didn’t even care about them at all. So it really just grated on my nerves that this guy, of all people, forced me to quake with some kind of hungry need every freaking time he came around.

It might not have been so bad if he was actually a decent person. But he was just so…so him . He was an outgoing, loud, obnoxious whirlwind of a flirt who thrived on attention and didn’t know when to shut up. He was the very antithesis of me.

And the draw he had on me was annoying. It was unwanted, unwelcome, and I really, really—well, I pretty much loathed him for it.

I hated him for his vivacious, ego-puffed, skirt-chasing vitality.

I hated how much he made my hands want to map every inch of his flesh.

I hated the control his presence had over my betraying body.

I hated the way he looked at me as if he actually saw me.

I hated his snarky sense of humor when he teased me.

I hated how much he visited the library and loved books, which made my own book-loving heart sigh with giddy pleasure.

I hated basically everything about him. Because I hated that I had absolutely zero chance of ever being with him.

Because being with him was all I’d ever dreamed of.

He made my blood pump through my veins, my heart buzz, and my entire body vibrate. He made me feel more alive than I did when I thought about death. And I probably resented him for that most of all.

I mean, what kind of jerk dared to take away my will to die?

He did. That was who.

Which was why Keene Dugger was the bane of my entire existence.