When I enter the room for our next-to-last Extra Credit class Matt’s presence hits me like a thunderbolt. I swallow as I eat him up with my eyes, his long-limbed grace and those dark good looks. It takes a gigantic effort to keep moving forward like everything’s normal.

“Hey! How are you guys?” I plop my book bag on the floor with a thud and interrupt Matt’s conversation with Noah and Kyle. Holly and Lani are talking nearby.

“Isn’t it amazing that there’s only one more week of classes?” I make my eyes go wide. All three guys are looking at me like I’ve grown another head, but I plunge on.

“I mean, it’s like this semester just raced by! I’m just so glad it’s over, you know? What’s everyone doing this summer?”

Holly and Lani are staring at me too now and no one says anything. Finally Matt speaks, as if to himself. “Amazing that on Day One you were accusing me of bullshitting. We sure have come a long way.” He rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair.

I grimace, then glare at him. “Duly noted, asshole.” I drop into a chair as everyone laughs. I cross my arms over my chest and fume.

“Well, maybe Annika’s still a little cranky, but her social make-over has gone splendidly!” Holly chirps. “Don’t you have a date Saturday night?” she goads, with a big grin. I scowl at her and Noah chuckles as he drags her back to her chair, resisting.

“Well?” Matt prompts, crossing his arms over his chest too and distracting me.

“As someone once said to me, I have no comment at this time.” I say coolly, then turn to listen to Marjorie, who is outlining our next assignment.

The rest of the class is awkward between us. We’re back to bristling and jabbing, smirking and snarking. It sucks. Once or twice, though, I catch him watching me with an expression I can only describe as yearning. And that makes me feel even worse. As the class ends I feel a pang of regret and swallow hard. Matt and I bolt out of the room as soon as we can and head in different directions. I’m vaguely aware of our friends’ speculative looks and whispers, but I just want out of there.

* * *

I drag myself through the rest of the week, studying for finals, and I’m thoroughly miserable. Lani and Holly pester me with texts, suggesting outings to distract me, but I don’t even want to leave my room. What if I run into Matt? The possibility raises so many feelings I can’t make any sense of them. Nothing seems to make sense.

While the first disastrous night with Matt had left me angry and alone, the second incredible one leaves me wanting and unsettled. I could check off all the successes of this semester: friendships, social acceptance, closure for That Night, and, oh yeah, losing my virginity in a night of unbelievable sex. But the list doesn’t add up somehow. I feel unsatisfied and restless. I know I’m right not to get more involved with Matt. We’re too volatile; we have too much history. I can’t handle the talk, the stares, the whispers again. Surely romantic relationships should be pleasant and comforting, not tempestuous and unpredictable? Yet as the semester winds to a close I feel disappointed.

Finally my new and very irritating friends wear me down so I agree to meet in the library to work on our final papers. I trudge down to the carrels in the basement, batting away all the memories of my last meeting here with Matt, all those months ago. When we kissed again. When we started figuring out That Night and it turned into…what? What can I even call it now? Matt called our first night together the Clusterfuck, which amused us both since we hadn’t fucked.

I miss him. Which is why I freeze in the doorway when I get to the study room and see him sitting at the table, deep at work and surrounded by books and papers. Maybe I conjured him up? I open my mouth and nothing comes out so I just stare at him hungrily. He looks about as bad as Matt can look—tired, pale, tense—and still I want to eat him up.

The door swings shut behind me and his head jerks up to stare back at me. For a long moment neither of us speaks and I can see him swallow. I whirl around to retreat in confusion when I hear the lock click. Baffled, I try the doorknob anyway just as our phones ping. Automatically, I take out my phone to read the text just as Matt jumps to his feet and rushes over.

“Noah!” he shouts, banging a fist on the closed door. I wince at the noise and at the message in front of me. Without a word, I show him my phone’s screen.

One hour! You’ve got one hour to work through your shit. Then we’ll let you out.

Matt swears and kicks the door. “Fucking Noah!” Our phones ping again.

You’re in a library, guys! Be quiet!

I turn to lean against the wall and let myself sink down to the floor till I’m sitting with my back against it. This is a disaster. How are we going to stand an hour together? Alone! I make an effort to tame the butterflies in my stomach. Matt is still cursing, but more quietly.

“It’s Holly sending the texts,” I point out, eyes on the floor. I can feel Matt’s tension as clearly as if he were pressed up against me. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself.

“But Noah has the keys! He works here. Goddammit, it’s an intervention! Why can’t they leave us alone?”

I sigh. “We intervened to make Kyle and Lani talk to each other when they wouldn’t. They think they’re helping.” As if on cue, my phone pings again and this time it’s Lani.

Sorry, but you need this! You two are both being idiots. Kiss and make up!

I flush and don’t show this one to Matt. His phone pings and he looks just as upset as he reads his message, then tosses his phone on the table in frustration. He sinks into a chair and drops his head in his hands. I didn’t know I could feel any worse.

“I’m sorry,” I say, ashamed of myself.

Matt’s head lifts and he frowns at me. “For what? For this? You were sucker-punched too.”

I don’t know what that means, but I can guess. “No, for— everything else.” I’m the one to hang my head now.

“For what?” he repeats. His voice is quiet and too far away. “For sleeping with me? Funny that we ended up sleeping together after all and not just fucking.”

I inhale sharply and it’s audible. I’m glad we’re far enough apart that he can’t see me blinking away tears. I have a reputation to uphold.

Then he releases a breath. “I’m sorry, Anni. It’s just—it hurts, you know?” Something in his voice draws my eyes back to him. He looks wrecked. And vulnerable. And I hate that I put that look on his face.

“It hurts that you don’t want what I want,” he mumbles finally.

And I can’t believe this is the same slick guy I first met. Have I done this to him? I’m moved and terrified—and he doesn’t get it. I’m already shaking my head.

“That’s not it, Matt!” It’s important he understand this. My gaze is pleading, beseeching even. “I do want what you want. I just can’t have it.” I’m afraid I’m just making it worse, but I can’t bear his unhappiness. My own is bad enough.

He just stares at me. “Same difference.”

I wipe a hand across my face, trying to hide my emotion and start shaking my head again. “No,” I whisper. “This is on me, not you.”

His eyes drop and his mouth tightens. There’s a long silence while my heart crumbles into little pieces. Feeling utterly defeated, I swipe through the apps on my phone then turn the screen to face him.

“Did you see this?”

I watch as his face fills with horror. “Motherfucker!”

I guess he hadn’t.

I put the phone away. I don’t need to see the photo again: taken from the porch of Matt’s frat, it shows me leaving the morning after, hair rumpled and heels in hand. As Walk of Shame moments go it is picture perfect. And it circulated on Snapchat tagged with both our names. Let the games begin.

He shoves away from the table, pacing the small space in frustration. “Fucking Geoff!”

I wait while he pulls himself together, wait as his expression turns defeated too.

“Okay,” he says finally. “I get it.” He raises his eyes, and I can’t feel glad that I’ve convinced him of the utter hopelessness of our being together. “I hear you. You think we can just be friends?” He sounds so skeptical that I almost flinch. His eyes are back on mine, searching.

“I want to be.”

His whole body shifts as if readjusting. It’s as if he’s shaking off all the tension, the frustration, the attraction, the desire. I’m both relieved and disappointed.

“Okay then.” He beckons me to the table with the crook of one finger and I’d follow him anywhere. “We’ve got forty-five minutes left to work on our papers. Please note my miraculous self control.”

I stand up and approach the table hesitantly, and something of my confusion must show on my face because he leans forward.

“This is me respecting your wishes, Annika. I heard you and I’m playing this your way. If you want something else you’ll have to say so.” His voice is low and gives me the shivers.

“I’m good,” I whisper faintly, closing my eyes briefly against his intensity.

He barks out a laugh. “Oh, I know just how good you are! That’s the problem!” I feel blood roaring through my veins, but then he smiles faintly and we’re back to normal again. Or normal for us. It’s bewildering.