Page 31 of Don't Be in Love

“Victoria Sutton. Her and Dorian have been off and on for years,” Amber took a loud slurp from her straw. “If he hasn’t been seen with anyone, then he’s probably with her again.”

Sabrina was either swaying beside me or my vision was blurring around the edges from the built-up resentment uncurling behind my eyes.

I needed to slow down on the mulled wine.

I immediately pulled out my phone and began typing Victoria’s name into—

“No phones.” My heart caught in my throat as a man in a tweed suit appeared out of nowhere, plucking my phone away.

“Excuse me?” I twisted in my seat, clutching the back of my chair.

“We have a no phone policy at Townsen Events.” His voice dragged low as if to sayobviously.

“Since when?”

“Since 1705 when the college was founded and phones didn’t exist,” he responded with a smug smile.

“I just needed to check my email.” I reached for my—

He moved his hand away. “If you want to use your phone, you can go outside.”

I stood up and took the phone, striding towards the doorway, down the stairs, and back outside. I was too prideful to notnotgo outside now.

Alright.

Fortunately, the rain had come to a halt. But it had left the grass a soppy mess. Mud was kicked up over the stone path we had originally followed. Glancing at my heels, I pivoted, taking the (cleaner) path to the right, where it ventured into the trees.

Crickets chirped and slow streams of water dripped off of the leaves I passed under. The soft lull of the string music was faint as I found a small pond reflecting the light of the moon and took a seat on its neighboring bench.

The phone screen blinded me as I finished typing inVictoria Sutton.

Twenty-two years old. Also in her last year at Townsen University. Model. Social media star. Swore by green juice for puffy eyes.

She was pretty. Blond hair, pale skin with a bright blush to her cheeks.

I scrolled on, searching for some sort of headline that—ah uh. There it was:Is Victoria Sutton Seeing Dorian Bla—

“What are you doing?”

I jumped up and smacked my phone against my chest, clutching it tight. “Jesus, you scared me,” I yelped, my throat tight.

Dorian threw his hands up. “Didn’t mean to.”

My shoulders fell. “What are you doing out here?”

“I had a call,” he responded. “What areyoudoing out here?”

“I was taking a phone call too.”

“Who were you talking to?” He crossed his arms.

“My aunt.”

“You said you don’t talk to your aunt.”

“When did I say that?”

“Last night. At the bookshop.”