Chapter 3

When Tiffany found out Logan was coming down this weekend, she was more excited than I was.

Early Friday morning, she tore through her closet.

After trying on seven or eight outfits, she settled on an ultra-tight, low-cut slip dress.

Then she sat in front of the vanity for two whole hours putting on a full face of makeup.

The other two roommates couldn't resist gossiping: "Tiffany, dressing up so pretty! Going on a hot date?"

Tiffany slicked on bright red lipstick, glancing at me through the mirror.

"I'm meeting someone very important. If things go well, I might not come back tonight."

I was packing my backpack and didn't even bother looking up.

She could sleep with whoever she wanted, as long as she stayed away from what was mine.

At four in the afternoon, Logan texted saying he was almost at my dorm building.

Just as I put on my shoes to head downstairs, Tiffany abruptly stood up.

"Riley, I need to run downstairs to buy some things anyway. Let's walk together."

Strutting in four-inch heels, she swayed her hips, walking ahead of me.

The moment we stepped outside, I saw Logan standing under the shade of a tree, holding his suitcase.

Before I could even call out his name,

Tiffany suddenly accelerated, sprinting straight toward him.

Half a meter away from him, she let out a delicate gasp.

"Ah!"

Feigning a loss of balance, she threw herself deliberately into his chest.

Logan’s reflexes were terrifyingly fast.

Without even registering who was lunging at him, he instinctively took a massive step to the side.

At the same time, he jerked his rolling suitcase right in front of him like a shield.

Tiffany caught nothing but thin air, crashing hard onto the rough concrete.

Passing students stopped dead in their tracks, pointing and whispering.

"What is she doing? Fake fall?"

"Looked like she threw herself at that hot guy, but he dodged her completely."

"Yikes. Dressed like that in broad daylight, throwing herself at a man? That’s embarrassing."

Tiffany’s face burned scarlet. She scrambled up clumsily, trying desperately to save face.

"Logan, you're here! The ground was so slippery..."

She forced a smile that looked worse than crying.

"Let me treat you two to dinner tonight. Consider it an apology for the misunderstanding earlier."

Logan looked her up and down, pure disgust dripping from his eyes.

"No thanks. I'd rather not lose my appetite."

Tiffany froze, then spun around and grabbed my wrist.

"Riley, I just want to buy you guys dinner to make amends. You have to give me a chance, right?"

I yanked my arm back forcefully.

"Do you not understand plain English? We said no!"

With that, I looped my arm through Logan’s and walked away without looking back.

We left Tiffany standing alone on the sidewalk, gnashing her teeth in humiliation.

That night, Logan and I had dinner off campus.

He had booked a room at an express hotel right next to the university.

When we reached the dorm entrance, he slipped the hotel keycard into my jacket pocket.

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Sleep in as late as you want before coming over. Don't wake up early."

I nodded, watched him walk away, and headed upstairs.

The second I pushed the dorm door open, Tiffany’s snide voice drifted over.

"Well, look who's back. Your boyfriend traveled all this way, and he didn't even keep you for the night?"

"Does he really not care about you that much, or is he just too cheap to spend money on a room with you?"

I didn't bother responding to her pathetic provocation.

I took off my jacket, grabbed my clean clothes, and headed straight for the shower.

When I stepped out, only the other two roommates were in bed, wearing headphones and binge-watching shows.

Tiffany was gone.

I walked over to my desk to grab my phone from my jacket to text Logan goodnight.

I reached into the pocket.

The hotel keycard was gone.

I paused, turning the pocket completely inside out.

I searched the floor around my chair.

Nothing.

I looked up at the bunk. "Did you guys see where Tiffany went?"

One roommate pulled off an earbud. "Right after you went into the shower, she rushed out in a hurry. She didn't even grab a coat."

Her snide comment from earlier echoed in my head.

Oh no!

I whipped out my phone and messaged Logan on SnapChat.

[Are you in your room?]

One minute passed. No reply.

I dialed his number.

The line rang repeatedly until it went to voicemail.

Dread exploded in my chest.

Logan never ignored my calls—unless his phone was completely out of reach.

Without waiting for my wet hair to dry, I threw on a hoodie and bolted out the door.

I sprinted all the way to the hotel.