Page 11 of Don't Be in Love

I stood, flattening out my sweater, and plucking the books out of his arms. “I think you have the wrong person—”

He clutched onto the book I was trying to take. “Hey, it’s alright, Dorian filled me in,” he explained, rather kindly too. As if it wasoursecret now. Phenomenal. Another problem.

“Did he now?” I asked flabbergasted. I made a deal with Dorian not to tell anyone about our night and here he was telling friends.

I rearranged the books in my arms and focused on getting out of here immediately. But as I scrambled for an excuse to go, my Entertainment Media textbook slipped out of my grasp. Thesmackagainst the floor was a good interruption for our conversation, but he bent down to pick it up.

“Two-thousand and one Beverly Spring collection.” He gestured to my shoes, standing back up and handing over the book.

“How—how do you know that?” I stammered.

“My mother works for Beverly.” He stated it as if it wasn’t single-handedly the coolest job ever.

NotatBeverly, butforBeverly.

He said it so nonchalantly that I considered for a moment whether we were talking about the same company.

TheBeverly. The most iconic fashion house of all time. The one I dreamed about even when I wasn’t sleeping. The one I’ve spent the past eight years achieving a perfect GPA for in hopes of joining their marketing team.

“My name’s James, by the way,” he remembered, giving me his hand.

I shook it. “Adelaide … But you already know that.” He smiled shyly in response. It was so warm and kind. Something that could’ve melted ice. An odd contrast to the grimace his friend wore the two times I saw him this week.

“Don’t worry by the way, I would never say anything about you and Dorian.”

I wanted to throw my palm against my forehead. “Do you happen to know who else he told?”

His eyes widened. “There is no one else. He would never do that. We’re practically attached at the hip, so I usually know too much. Which can be unfortunate at times,” he pondered.

“Oh, alright,” I exhaled, while also trying to piece together which parts would be unfortunate. “I’m sorry again for running into you. I’m still trying to figure out what makes this brown hallway different from that brown hallway.” I blew a strand of hair out of my face.

“Which class are you trying to get to?” he asked.

“Entertainment Media in the Archer building.”

“With Professor Dover?”

“Yes, that one! Have you had her before?”

“I’m in that class too,” he said. “I guess you can just follow me this way then.”

Walking side and side, we headed in the completely opposite direction that I had been going. The light coming in through the skylight above us flickered over our shoes as we walked through the outdoor pathway to the other building. I took my strides wide to keep up with his footsteps.

I attempted to listen to the words coming out of James’s mouth about the history of the buildings, but I was more focused on memorizing this path and trying to figure out if he was trustworthy (all while ignoring how pretty his mouth happened to be).

Green flag #1: He seemed sweet.

Red flag #1: He was a friend of Dorian’s.

Green flag #2: He appeared to be the complete opposite of Dorian, despite the similar height and dark eyes.

Red flag #2: He chose to spend time with Dorian.

Green flag #3: He had a really pretty smile. Maybe that was a beige flag since it intervened with the No Dating rule.

“Are you a senior?” he asked.

“Yes,” I responded, trying not to let my thoughts paint themselves across my face. “I transferred here from Boston.”