Craig's POV
For a second, Keith didn't answer. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Then he goes, "Because, man… I know better."
I frowned. What did that even mean?
It felt like I'd just stepped into something I wasn't supposed to. I looked over at him, trying to read his expression. He wasn't smiling, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Maybe irritation? But I wasn't buying that.
Was I really the only one who felt like being around her was some sort of magnetic disaster waiting to happen?
I glanced at him. "Know better than what? She's not your type?"
Keith let out a short laugh. "Oh, nah. I'm into redheads. Girls like Phoebe? Lively, easy to impress. That's my kind of energy." He pursed his lips, like he'd just declared a personal philosophy.
I arched a brow. "And Merlina?" I asked, hesitating for a moment, "What do you think about her?"
"Why are you asking?" Keith shot me a suspicious look. "What do you think about her?"
"I asked first." It came out more defensive than I intended.
Keith didn't answer right away, eyes fixed on the road. And I didn't push. Mostly because I didn't want him catching on to how I couldn't stop thinking about a girl who hated my guts.
She wasn't just mad at me. She hated my family. She looked at me like I was some kind of serial killer. And the thing that stung most? I wasn't even the one involved in anything.
I'm not Conor.
"I think Merlina's… confused," Keith finally said. "Beautiful, sure. But she always looks like she's two seconds away from spiraling. Not exactly girlfriend material—for guys like us, she's more of a liability."
Liability? That one hit harder than I expected.
I didn't even know why I cared. But I did.
"Yeah…maybe you're right," I muttered, ending the conversation there.
He was only right about one thing. She did look lost sometimes. I'd seen it, too. In her eyes. At Barsea. Even in how she stood, like the ground was shifting under her feet.
But everything else he said?
Wrong. Dead wrong.
"Trust me, bro. Don't go there," Keith added.
Too late, she was already under my skin.
Merlina Sanchez had this presence. Like she wasn't trying to stand out, but somehow always did. Smart. Intense.
The kind of girl who thought too much, felt too deeply, and didn't bother pretending otherwise. Of course I was pulled in. Anyone would be.
But liking her? That meant stepping into the chaos. And I wasn't sure I'd make it out clean.
She'd called out my parents—to my face. That still pissed me off. And she let Louis fill her head with God knows what. She just listened to him like his words were gospel.
That was the thing about her. She let herself be swayed by one of my biggest haters.
I couldn't stop thinking about it, the frustration simmering.
Screw it. Whatever this is.
I'm over it.
To hell with Merlina Sanchez.
Merlina's POV
I sat cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through my phone absent-mindedly while Phoebe and Megan were out shopping for their dresses. Their voices carried down the hallway, excited chatter filling the air as they headed out, but I was perfectly content in my quiet solitude.
It wasn't often I got this time to myself, so I figured I'd catch up with Melissa.
"Merlina!" Her voice was like a shot of espresso. "What's good? How's the whole 'college life' thing? You found any cute guys yet?"
I grinned, leaning back against the headboard. "Same old, Mel. Trying not to die of stress, you know?"
She laughed on the other end. "Okay, but like, any hot guys? Or are you totally ignoring them?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Define hot. I'm heading to a party tonight, so we'll see."
Her voice perked up. "Oooh, what party? Like, a frat thing or something?"
I smirked. "Nah, it's Brandon's birthday. You know, the YouTuber? The one who's friends with literally everyone?"
Her gasp came through loud and clear. "Brandon? As in the Brandon? The social king himself? Please tell me it's not just a 'soda and chips' kind of thing."
"Ha, definitely not." I flopped back, watching my ceiling for no reason at all. "It's one of those big, inclusive parties. Gowns, champagne, the whole vibe. Everyone's invited. He's got, like, that influence."
She squealed. "I can't even—so, like, do you have a date? Or are you rolling solo?"
I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Megan and Phoebe are my dates."
"Girl, please," she shot back, laughing. "You know what I mean. You're not telling me there's no one you're into? Like, some hot college guy who has everyone's heart? Tell me who, I'm dying to know."
I hesitated. Craig's face flashed in my mind, his eyes all sharp and… frustrating. I shoved the thought away. He wasn't worth my mental energy. "Nah. No one like that. I'm just going to enjoy myself, you know?"
Melissa's laugh was full of disbelief. "Stop playing! There's gotta be someone. You need to stop denying it. Go get a boyfriend, I swear it'll make your college life 100x better."
I was about to throw some snark back when a sound at the door froze me. Barely audible—but enough to know that someone standing there, waiting.
"Hold on, Mel," I whispered, setting my phone down and standing up, every inch of me suddenly alert. My feet moved quietly toward the door, my hand hovering near the knob.
Who could it be?
I opened it—staring in surprise.