My head was still buzzing from the weekend’s excitement on Monday morning. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that I saw a vulnerable side to Alexa Hall. She tries to appear so perfect, but it was nice to see that she’s human too.

I was excited to see her in Sociology class. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was thinking about what I would say to her.

She always sat directly in front of me, so maybe I would lean down and whisper something in her ear. It would be like an inside joke between us. Or, I could just flash her a seductive, knowing smile and watch her blush. I don’t mean to brag, but it’s too easy for me to make girls blush.

Maybe I’d just go for it and ask her out. Say something about how I want to spend another night with her that ends with both of us being conscious. I was nervous, but it was the perfect moment. I really felt like we made a special connection Saturday night.

I got to the classroom a little earlier than normal to make sure I had enough time to talk to her before the lecture started. I was feeling a bit anxious, but ready. It was now or never.

A few minutes passed. She was usually in her seat by now, with her notebook and pen out, ready to take notes. Her hair always draped over the back of her chair. Sometimes, a few locks would fall onto my knees and I would carefully brush them away with my finger.

The professor entered and began the lecture. No Alexa. I figured she must be sick. Maybe her hangover was so bad that she was still not feeling well today. I was a little concerned. I pulled out my phone and texted her.

Are you sick? Do you want me to take notes for you? We can meet up later and I’ll fill you in on what you missed in class.

I hit send. This was just as good. It would give me a perfect reason to see her again. Because it had to do with school, she would never accuse me of trying any funny business with her.

I checked my phone a few minutes later. No response. Poor girl, maybe she was really sick. Would it be weird if I showed up at her dorm later? Maybe with flowers or chicken soup and apologize to her for getting her so drunk?

I tried to take good notes, but I kept getting distracted. I was daydreaming a hundred different scenarios where I approached Alexa and she was so thankful that I took care of her that she wanted to show her appreciation. Any possibility from a nice dinner, to a kiss, to a night in my bed—I thought of them all.

Before I knew it, class was over. I followed the herd of students exiting through the door in the back of the classroom. That’s when I saw Alexa, quickly stuffing her books in her bag. She never sits in the back row of classrooms. That’s where the slackers sit, and she was definitely not that. I called out to her, but she was already lost in the crowd.

I felt confused. I was so nice to her and I really thought she had a good time with me. She wanted to come back to my place, and when that obviously didn’t happen, she told me I was nice. That’s a lot coming from this girl. She seemed to have a general mistrust of men, and I thought I had finally broken through by proving to her that I just want to be good to her.

Now I was angry. I texted her with concern about her well-being and she didn’t even have the decency to respond? She deliberately avoided me and ignored me when I wanted to talk to her. I could have any girl I want, and she knows that. Did she hate me so much that she couldn’t even look at me?

I was right. My friends told me that she was worth pursuing, and they were totally wrong about that. She was a cold person. She only cared about herself. Of course she would, though. Girls who come from money never have interest in guys like me. I was stupid to think that this was going to work out.

I fumed the whole way back to my dorm. It was probably better this way. Before long, the school year would be over. I didn’t have time to chase girls, anyway.

I needed to focus on finishing up my degree and preparing for the professional football combine. With any luck, I would be moving, and she’d go back to her hometown, or wherever rich girls go when they graduate with a degree they’ll never use.

I was done with Alexa Hall. I had been turned down by plenty of girls in my life, and it was no big deal. I was just so surprised that she, of all people, wanted nothing to do with me.

In my anger, I typed out a text, my fingers shaking.

Sorry I made sure you got home safely the other night. I didn’t think it would upset you this much. Next time, I’ll leave you on the street, puking your guts out.

My finger hovered over the send button before I quickly deleted it. I didn’t need to make things worse than they already were. I decided to take a page from Alexa’s book and just ignore her too. I’ve been dumped many times for doing the wrong thing with girls. This was just the first time I was ever rejected for doing the right thing.

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