Chapter 6

chapter six

Addie

The moment I get to campus, I realize something unusual is definitely happening, and as always, I am completely out of the loop.

My brow furrows as I pass another bright blue flyer taped to the wall of the art building, but since I'm already late after tearing my room apart again this morning on the off chance that I just somehow missed my sketchbook when I searched last night, I keep power walking toward my class.

Dr. Hart hates when we're late, and the last thing I want is to give him a reason to call me out when I'm already missing the most important thing I need for his class.

I'm screwed. Like royally, completely, totally screwed.

After everything that happened over the weekend with Brent, the party, and the revelations about his deceit, it feels like I haven't been able to catch my breath, and losing my sketchbook is truly just the icing on the cake.

The knot of anxiety in my stomach has unraveled slightly, knowing that I don't technically have to marry someone I'm disgusted by to keep the bakery. But there's still the heavy sense of unease remaining because I still have to figure out how I can save Ever After without marrying that jerk just to get us out of debt.

I slip into my seat just as the heavy door slams shut and breathe a sigh of relief. I made it.

Barely.

Pulling out a fresh notebook from my backpack, I flip to the first blank page and wince.

It's bare, and it shouldn't be.

It should be filled with my notes and sketches for my art portfolio.

I attempt to pay attention to his lecture, doodling in the margins of the blank pages until class is dismissed.

"Did you see this?" the tall, lanky brunette who I think is named Alison whispers to her friend next to me. "Apparently, Prince Charming has them all over campus. Literally, like everywhere. Seems like he's looking for an OU art student."

Prince Charming? My curiosity is piqued, so I glance over and see her holding the same blue flyer that I saw posted on every surface of the art building on my way to class.

"All I can say is whoever it is, she's a lucky girl. I mean, what a grand gesture, right? What guy do you know who would do something like this?" her friend replies, a dreamy expression on her face. "I can't wait to see if he finds his ArtGirl. So romantic."

ArtGirl?

My heart drops to my stomach when I hear that name. I… I mean, that's a fairly common name, right? It couldn't be…

"Um, hi, could I see that?" I mumble quietly, and the girl nods, thrusting the paper into my shaky hand. I barely notice them leaving as my eyes scan the flyer.

Prince Charming Searching For His Artgirl

If you're her, then I found something special that belongs to you and only fate can get it back to you. -Jockboy

Oh. My. God.

The floor feels like it might have fallen out beneath me as I collapse into the lecture theater chair, holding on to the paper for dear life. I stare down at the flyer in my hand with wide eyes, exhaling shakily before reading it again.

And again.

And then… again.

This has to be just a crazy… coincidence, right?

I think back to the conversations I had on the OU forum with… Jockboy.

The boy who stumbled into my life by happenstance, who became more to me than I ever imagined he could. I flash back to all the nights spent talking to him until the early hours of the morning, only signing off when I could hardly keep my eyes open for a second longer. How I would anxiously await the next message from him the next day, like a lovesick fool. How I couldn't wait to tell him about my day or how I was feeling because somehow, it felt like he was the only person in the world I felt like I could just be me with.

It seems like a lifetime ago, even though it's been only nine months.

Not that I was keeping track or anything.

Bold serif numbers stare back at me from the bottom of the paper, and I find myself hesitating, even as I pull my phone out of the pocket of my cardigan.

There's no way… that Jockboy found my sketchbook. No, there's just no way.

How did he get it? Was he at that party?

That would be a serendipitous twist of fate, one that I'm not sure if even I believe is possible.

My fingers hover over the screen, talking myself out of messaging it because I know logically, there is just no way.

But…

Could it be?

I quickly type in his number with a simple, to-the-point message.

I want my sketchbook back.

Then, because it sounded just a tad bit rude, I add:

Please.

Standing from my chair, I shove the flyer into the side pocket of my backpack and lock my phone before putting it back into my pocket.

I'm sure that whoever this is, this must simply be a… coincidence… about the names. Well, besides that my sketchbook is, in fact, missing. But the paper doesn't specify what it is he's found anyway.

It could be anything. A sweater, a backpack, jewelry.

I make it halfway down the hallway before my phone vibrates in my pocket with a notification, and I hastily pull it out.

How do I know it's really you?

My brow pulls tight as I quickly respond,

So, you do have my sketchbook?

I cannot confirm nor deny the object I have in my possession. If it's really you, then you know where to find me.

He's talking about the forum. He has to be—nothing else would make sense.

Holy crap. It really is him. Jockboy has my sketchbook.

I spend the rest of the day attempting to focus on my classes so I don't fall behind and desperately trying not to think about the fact that he's in possession of the most personal item that I own. My sketchbook is… a piece of me. Literally and figuratively. Like a diary of sorts. A place where I've bled my deepest, darkest secrets onto the pages through my art.

I can't just not attempt to get it back.

Later that night, as I sit in front of the glowing computer screen at my desk, chewing my lip anxiously, I glance over at Auggie, who's perched on his bed next to me, staring back with those judgy eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," I say.

His ears perk up as if he understands what I'm saying, popping into sharp little points that are entirely too cute.

"Would it really be so bad if I didn't get it back? I could just start fresh…" I mutter.

Of course, he doesn't answer back, instead cocking his head as if to say, "Just do it, you big weenie."

Sighing, I drag my gaze back to the screen, which is open to OU's student forum. Auggie's right. I need to stop being a baby and just do it. I'll meet up with him, and I'll get my sketchbook back. Even if that means facing Jockboy.

The nagging voice in the back of my head quips, "Yeah, the guy that you fell for and then ghosted. Easy."

Groaning, I drop my head onto my keyboard. It's not my proudest moment, disappearing on him. But… It had to be done.

It was the right thing to do, even if it didn't feel right at the time. A huge part of me regrets it, and another part of me has always wondered what would've happened if I'd actually met him at the gala that night.

I open the private message window and use my mouse to select the username I never imagined I would click again.

OrleansU11

ArtGirl: Can I have my sketchbook back now?

My stomach somersaults as I wait for a response. It's late, so there's a good chance that he won't even see my message until tomorrow. I should just shut my computer down and try to get a good night's sleep.

One where I don't think about… Jockboy or about what a cluster my life is turning into.

Just as I'm about to minimize the screen, a message comes through.

OrleansU11: Tomorrow. 9 PM. Dyer Park.