Delilah slammed her car into park and snatched her purse from the seat beside her. According to the clock, she was already late. She grabbed her book bag from the backseat and barely remembered to lock the car as she took off at a near-run. She hurried into the school through the closest door, which was not actually very close to her class at all. Being such a huge campus, she was often not able to park close to her classes and today was no exception. Except that today, she really, really needed a closer spot.

Her boots clicked over the hall’s tile. Why in the world had she worn boots today? They had a low heel, but she should have worn flats if she was going to hurry like this. But, she reminded herself, she hadn’t left the house thinking she would be late. After the line at the coffee shop and then being stuck behind a broken-down car in traffic, the time had ticked by faster than she wanted.

The thoughts in her mind raced as fast as her feet did. She had a test that day. Art history. It was a class she highly enjoyed, but the professor was tough. He was going to be very unpleased with her lateness today. He might even refuse to let her take the test if she was late enough. As this thought hit her, she sped up, trying to review the test answers as she went.

She had to pass this test. Missing it and having a big fat zero on her grades was not an option. She was already falling behind. There was never enough time to make her projects as perfect as she wanted them. There was never enough time for one more read through of her papers. If only she didn’t need so much sleep. Five or six hours a night was more than she could afford to spend when work and school took so much of her time.

Her hasty work had been reflected in her grades lately. As the number of her GPA drifted lower and lower, the letters had started arriving. At first, they seemed concerned. “Miss Argentums: We noticed that your recent academic performance has not been on par with your previous performance. We would like to encourage you to seek tutoring and additional help from your professors to bring your GPA back up to the expected level.” The most recent letter she’d gotten, however, wasn’t nearly so kind. “Miss Argentums: Based on your most recent academic report, we regret to inform you that if your GPA does not increase by the next academic report, your scholarship will be terminated.”

That letter had hit her like a block of cement. She was close to losing her scholarship. There was no way she’d be able to get money to pay for college, and loans weren’t even an option. She’d thought, when she first started applying to schools, that since her family had little money, it’d be easy to find grants and scholarships and loans and any resource she needed to pay for her schooling. But as the rejection letters rushed in, she saw this was not the case. The one academic scholarship she had managed to secure was the only money she’d gotten for college. Luckily, it had been a very good scholarship that covered her entire education, but there was nothing to fall back on. If that scholarship was gone, school was over for her.

Being late today, for this class, put her in further danger. If the professor took off any points at all for her lateness or went so far as to refuse to let her take the test, then she was done. Even if the paper she’d turned in last week didn’t get at least an 88%, she was done. The stress ate at her. How in the world would she keep this up for three and a half more years to be able to graduate? Maybe this dream was about to die. She’d have no one to blame but herself. She sucked in a sharp breath and checked her phone again. Officially six minutes late.

She stuck her phone back in her purse and looked away from the hall for just a moment as she did. It was the wrong moment.

When Delilah’s attention returned to the path in front of her, she was suddenly face-to-face with another student. There was no time to prevent it. They crashed into each other hard. Her bag fell, spilling her books across the floor.

She dropped down and started scooping them up, not even bothering to care who she’d just bumped into. She had to get to class.

“Sorry,” she muttered as she shoved books back in her bag.

“Yeah, I guess you are. It’s pretty sorry when a person can’t even walk down a hall successfully.”

She snapped her attention to the boy she’d crashed into. The rage took over her anxiety about being late. She shoved in the last book and stood, her hands on her hips. “Excuse me? You bumped into me.”

“No. I didn’t.”

Her gaze fell into a glare and she really looked at him for the first time. Her intention was to remember his face so that she could glare at him anytime she saw him on campus and be sure to stay far away from him.

But when her eyes roamed over his face, she found that he wasn’t the freshman boy she’d thought. He was an older student. Maybe a senior? He glared at her. He also happened to be the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Well, that explained it, she thought. Aren’t the best looking men always the biggest assholes? Typical.

“Whatever,” she huffed. “I don’t have time for your bullshit.”