Chapter 12

The next morning, I had one goal: pretend nothing happened.

No overanalyzing. No weird feelings. No internal debates with a smug imaginary cat.

Just a normal, Oliver-free day.

Then I walked into class and saw him.

Leaning back in his chair. Smirking. Twirling his pen like he owned the place.

I hate him.

"Morning, Amelia." His voice was annoyingly smooth.

I nodded. "Morning." Cool. Casual. Normal.

Then I tripped on air and smacked my knee against a desk.

"Smooth," Oliver teased.

"Shut up." I limped to my seat, face burning.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him chuckling.

I buried my face in my textbook. This was fine. Totally fine.

Step one of denial: Avoid all eye contact.

But class had other plans.

"Partner up!" our teacher announced.

Before I could react, Oliver was in front of my desk.

"Guess we're stuck together," he said, eyes way too amused.

I hate him.

I forced a smile. "Lucky me."

Whiskers appeared on my desk, invisible to everyone but me. "Your life is a rom-com at this point."

I clenched my jaw. Ignore him. Ignore everything.

Denial was exhausting.

And I had a feeling Oliver wasn't going to make it easy.