4. Alex

ALEX

THEN – FRESHMAN YEAR – SEPTEMBER

T he lecture hall buzzes with pre-class chatter, a sound I’ve grown to love over the past week. I’m fumbling with my backpack, trying to find my favorite pen—the one with little trees on it that my grandma got me when I got into UMS.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Alex, the drinking game hater.”

I whip my head up so fast I’m pretty sure I give myself whiplash. Standing there, looking infuriatingly handsome and completely out of place—like a GQ model at a Star Trek convention—is Freddie.

“Freddie?” I squeak, my voice jumping an octave.

Smooth, Alex. Real smooth. You sound like a mouse being stepped on.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were a sophomore.”

He pushes off the wall he was leaning against and comes to sit next to me. His cool facade slips for a second before he quickly regains it.

“Yeah, I’m taking some intro classes because I had a change of plans over the summer. Turns out general education wasn’t my calling after all. Decided to swap to Environmental Science.”

“Oh,” I manage, my brain short-circuiting. I haven’t thought of him much since the party last week.

Well, correction: I’d thought of him a lot —until I cyber-stalked him (because I’m a healthy, well-adjusted adult), found photos of that charming smile with approximately fifty different blonde women, and realized that not only was I the furthest thing from his type, but he was probably just pity-talking to me because I was a sad loner at his party.

So I ordered myself not to think about him. No point being unrealistic, right?

“That’s…unexpected.”

He shrugs, and for a moment, I swear I see something flicker in his eyes. But it’s gone before I can analyze it. “Yeah, well, life’s full of surprises, right?”

There it is again, that grin that I’m sure did him many favors in winning over all the girls I saw online.

As the lecture begins, I can’t help but sneak glances at him. He catches me looking once and winks—the jerk.

I quickly turn away, feeling my face heat up.

The talk is on the rock cycle, from lava to mountains, and it’s with my new favorite professor, Professor Bam. She teaches in a way that makes even the discussion of melting tectonic plates sound like an epic movie. I’ve already decided to ask about shadowing her in her lab over Thanksgiving break.

The faster I can learn everything, the better chance I have of getting onto the GSRI summer internship in my sophomore year. And once you’re in that, as long as you don’t royally mess up (like, say, flunk your next two years), you’re practically guaranteed a spot in the grad program.

So, no stress. Just gotta be perfect, learn everything, get into the hardest geoscience program in the country, then save the planet. Easy .

Throughout the lecture, I’m hyper-aware of Freddie sitting next to me. I notice a few girls glance over at us, shooting me jealousy daggers. I want to shout, “I don’t know what he’s doing here either! Go ahead, we’re not a thing!”

I glance at him again, and he’s on his phone under the desk. I roll my eyes, looking back at Professor Bam. Notes. I need to take more notes.

He’s not your problem. Rocks now, boys later. Or preferably, rocks always, boys never. Yeah, that sounds like a solid life plan.

Except for my number one college bucket list task: Lose my V-card.

I wasn’t lying when I told Freddie that I have a college bucket list. It was actually an idea that came from my mom. I’d overheard her advising one of her clients who was having a midlife crisis.

“Cindy, why don’t you write a bucket list? Your thirties have been taken from you by John, but there’s no reason why you can’t reclaim your power and do all the things that you want to do.”

And even though I’m only nineteen, later that night, I got to writing:

Alex’s College Bucket List:

Lose V card

Make a best friend

Do a keg stand

Do something new that scares you (can’t be one of the things already listed)

Go to a frat party

I’ll be honest, numbers 2 through 5 are mostly padding around the one that I really care about. So yeah, boys never might not work.

So far, I am happier at UMS than I’ve been in years. I’ve fallen into a comfortable routine here, bonded with my roommate Piper over our shared love of obscure documentaries and a clean dorm room. (Turns out, you can bond over shared OCD tendencies.)

Tara and I have become practically inseparable—like two peas in a very enthusiastic, slightly caffeinated pod. I’ve even developed a tiny (okay, pretty big) crush on Eric, the adorably nerdy guy from my Sedimentary Rocks class. He’s like a walking, talking Wikipedia page, and I’m embarrassingly into it. Yesterday, he asked me to double-check his grain size estimate, and I practically jumped at the chance.

And now this.

Freddie .

The guy who’s been living rent-free in my head since that party, despite my best efforts to evict him.

Seriously, I’ve tried everything short of a mental exorcism. Maybe I could ask Tara for help; she did mention she has a pack of tarot cards.

As we’re packing up, Freddie saunters over to me. “So, I saw you taking a lot of notes.”

“Yes, it’s a class,” I deadpan.

He laughs. “I get that. Did any of that make sense to you? I feel like I’m a few steps behind. It’s been a while since I took a science class.” He rakes a hand through his hair, stretching his neck from left to right. It’s not fair. He looks like a Greek god. How can somebody look so comfortable with themselves at college?

I shrug. “Yeah. I mean, I read some books over summer, so I know most of that stuff already.” Great, Alex. Why don’t you just tell him you spend your Friday nights color-coding your personal periodic table?

He whistles. “Check you out. Studying over summer? Most high school seniors spend their time having a summer fling with their neighbor or working a shitty part-time job.”

I feel my cheeks heat up, but I can’t just walk away. That’s what old-Alex would do. Channeling every rom-com heroine I’ve ever seen, I put a hand on my hip and say, “How do you know I didn’t do those too?” I keep my voice steady.

He licks his lips and laughs, holding his hands up. “Apologies, I shouldn’t have assumed otherwise.”

I grin despite myself. It’s not a total lie. I did have a part-time job, at least—working as a server at Rebby’s diner. It wasn’t the worst job in the world, plus the locals loved me and always tipped well. Despite my parents insisting I summer with them in Italy (I know, poor me), I wanted to get some life experience. I’d never had a proper job before, and I was starting to feel like I was wrapped in wool.

We walk out of class side by side. I have to step a little faster to keep up with his impossibly long strides.

“And it’s not studying to me,” I feel the need to clarify. Freddie raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Hmm, what is it then?”

“Pursuing an interest. I love this stuff,” I admit. “I enjoy learning about how our planet ticks, so maybe one day I can figure out how to save it.”

He tilts his head, and I feel naked under his gaze. I have the sudden urge to take everything I just said back.

Now would be a great time for a fault underground to activate, creating a crevice just large enough for me to fall into.

“That’s…admirable,” he settles on. I’m not sure if he means it or is just being polite. “I can’t imagine researching this stuff for fun.”

I nod, swallowing thickly.

“Well, Lexie, I am your disciple.” At my puzzled look, he explains, “Look, it’s clear that I need some help with this stuff, and you can be my sensei. Would you do me the honor and privilege of being my study buddy?”

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. Ah, now it makes sense. He’s interested in me to copy my homework.

Classic.

Still, a traitorous part of me can’t help but be a little thrilled at the prospect of spending more time with him. Plus, Tara and her brother are really close, and she’s already suggesting going to their house for dinner soon, so it can’t hurt to get to know Freddie better if I’m going to be seeing him more.

In fifth grade, Jared Wilson asked me on a date in front of the whole class. I stuttered and stammered my way into saying yes, feeling like I’d just won the awkward pre-teen lottery. That same day, we had lunch together outside. It was nice, in that “oh-god-what-do-I-do-with-my-hands” kind of way. He asked me about my crystal necklace, and I, being the little rock nerd I was (and still am), told him it was rose quartz and how the rose part was actually just an impurity in the crystal structure. He told me that was the coolest fact he’d ever heard, and I’d never been prouder. I was already planning our science-themed wedding.

Then, he casually slipped in that he wanted to sit next to me during the quiz later. His mom had threatened to take away his video game privileges if he failed another test, so would I mind if he just peeked at my sheet?

Eager to please my new boyfriend, I agreed. Only, the next day, when I called him my boyfriend, he laughed at me in front of all his friends and told me he’d never date a nerd like me. And just like that, I experienced my first heartbreak.

I won’t be fooled twice. I know that Freddie asking to be study buddies is nothing more than him needing help. He’s not promising to be my boyfriend, and I won’t start planning any weddings.

At my hesitation, Freddie continues, “I’ll be honest, it’s actually really important to me that I do well. I kinda lost focus last year, but I need to do well this year. I want to get good grades and get a good job. It’ll be a lot easier with someone to study with. I’d really owe you, Lexie.” His voice lowers in a way that makes heat rush through my body.

“I… S-sure,” I stammer.

He grins. That asshole, did he do that on purpose?

“Pass me your phone. I’ll text myself so I can have your number.”

As I pass it to him, his fingers brush against mine.

As he punches away on the phone, I can’t help but ask, “So if you’re not into this stuff, why’d you switch programs?”

Something flashes across his face—so quick I almost miss it. “Let’s just say I had a reality check this summer,” he says, his voice lighter than his eyes. “My family needs help, you know? Stability. And when Alfie wouldn’t shut up about the money in oil and gas and mining, well…” He shrugs. “Figured it was a safe bet. Plus, I’ve always aced science and math. How hard can it be, right?”

It’s difficult to resist lecturing him about the poor environmental practices in both of those industries. My inner eco-warrior is screaming, but something warns me now isn’t the time. Before I can probe further, Freddie’s easy grin is back in place, like a mask sliding into position.

“Anyway, how about we grab coffee tomorrow and you can tell me all about,” he glances at my notebook, “the fascinating world of soil erosion?”

I smile and look at my feet, nodding.

“See ya round, Lexie.”

I wait until Freddie’s out of sight before checking my phone, because I’m nothing if not a master of subtlety. My heart does a little jig when I see the message he’s left himself:

Meet tomorrow at CC’s Coffee—I’m buying