I wake up the next morning, feeling worse than any hangover I've ever had. I got a total of maybe two hours of sleep last night, too anxious and distressed to sleep, going over and over in my head what I'm going to say to Olivia.

I check the time on my phone to see it's just past 7:00 a.m. I know Olivia has a final at 8:00 a.m. for the lab she teaches for Mrs. Cooper so I jump out of bed and get dressed, heading for the science building to try to catch her before it starts.

I wander down the halls of the science building until I reach her lab room. Peeking inside, I spot a few early bird, eager freshman already sitting inside, going over their notes one last time. I glance at the front of the classroom to find one of them talking with Olivia.

She looks wrecked. The dark circles under her eyes tell me she's probably gotten just as much sleep as I have, and the dullness in her usually bright, warm eyes tells me just how emotionally drained she must be after all the events that have taken place in the past twenty-four hours.

Seemingly sensing my gaze, she looks up and her eyes lock on mine. I nearly gasp at how dull, empty, her eyes look. At how differently she's looking at me. That usual sparkle of fondness, happiness, isn't there. It's like she's looking at me as if I'm just a ghost of her memory.

I don't miss the quick flicker of surprise in her eyes, though, as well as the lingering pain set deep beneath the usually warm brown irises. For a moment, I think I see a flash of longing in them, but that may just be wishful thinking.

She stares at me with a mix of emotions, until her attention is taken back by the freshman in front of her, asking a million questions.

A few more students filter in, fifteen minutes remaining until the exam starts. Olivia glances up at me frequently, and eventually, she excuses herself from the annoying freshman, standing up and walking across the lab to the door.

My heart reaches out for her, but my feet stay glued to the floor, unsure of whether or not to meet her halfway or have her come to me.

"Finch."

She looks at me, subtly shaking her head. She places her hand on the door, making my heart sink.

"Finch, please, let's talk," I beg.

She continues to shake her head. "Not here," she says, voice barley above a whisper, a plea rolling off her lips.

I open my mouth and close it, her wounded eyes begging me to leave. I know I shouldn't be doing this here, in front of her students, but I can't stand not talking to her, not seeing her. I've been going crazy not being near her, knowing nothing has been resolved between us.

"Olivia, I—" The words get caught in my throat. Everything I planned on saying to her, everything I rehearsed over and over again last night, escapes me.

Another one of her students arrives, passing in between us and into the classroom. Olivia gives me one last long look before closing the door behind her, leaving it cracked open a quarter of the way for the students still making their way in. My heart breaks, knowing that she's physically and emotionally trying to keep me out.

It takes everything inside of me not to push through that door and hash it out with her right here, right now, but I know how distressed that would make her and how bad that would look. Not only for me, but for her if the students complained to Mrs. Cooper.

Completely dejected, I take a seat on the bench across the hall, watching the remainder of her class file in, the door cracking open a little wider with each body that passes through. At 8:00 a.m. on the dot, Olivia closes the door all the way and doesn't spare me a single glance.

I hear her through the wood giving instructions for the final, her voice not as bubbly or lively as it normally is.

With a sigh, I sink back against the wall, waiting impatiently until the last student leaves the room.

I hop up from the bench and walk inside the lab to find Olivia quickly collecting papers, no doubt trying to dodge me.

"Finch, we have to talk." I walk up to where she's standing at the front lab bench.

I watch her bite the inside of her cheek, avoiding looking at me.

"Finch," I plea, unable to resist the urge to reach out for her, but she shrinks away. "Just let me explain."

"Explain what?" she asks, her voice holding a cold edge that I've never heard from her before. Its then she finally looks up at me, her eyes just as cold.

I realize in the past twenty-four hours her sadness has rolled over into anger. Rightfully so.

"I'm sorry," I begin, desperately needing her to listen to me. "I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what happened. I had both of my alarms set, I swear. They were set before you even left!" I explain, still scrambling to try to figure out what happened. "I know Adrianna had something to do with this."

I watch Olivia's face crumple, the absolute hurt resurfacing. "Why?" she asks, so softly I barely even hear her, her voice wavering as she fights back tears. "Is it because she slept in your bed that night?"

The accusation is so out of left field it feels like a one hundred mile an hour fast ball just hit me right upside the head. "What?" I ask in a rushed, disbelieving breath.

She shakes her head again, collecting all the final exams in her arms, hugging them to her chest. She rounds the bench, trying to leave, but I stop her, placing my body in front of hers.

"Where on Earth did you come up with that?" I ask.

The tiniest scoff passes her lips. "Oh I don't know, Bronx," she says, some of the coldness returning. "Maybe it's because she came parading into lab that morning bragging about it, and about how you wouldn't wake up no matter how hard she tried to wake you."

My jaw goes slack in shock. This is why her demeanor is so cold. Not only does she think I ditched her to take the final by herself, but she also thinks I cheated on her.

"You know I would never do that to you," I claim definitively, my voice thick with emotion.

"Do I?" she asks, tears welling in her eyes. "Tell me, Bronx, were you just using me this whole time?" Her eyes are deadlocked on mine, begging me to tell the truth. I can see the desperation, the insecurity, the hurt behind them.

I know what rat boy, and others on this campus, have been whispering in her ear all this time. That I'm a scum bag that could never commit to one woman. That I'm just using her to pass the class, and she's naive enough to let me do it and believe I actually care about her.

"Of course not! Finch,"—I take a step towards her and she retreats, breaking my heart—"do you really think I'd ask for you to tutor me and actually show up to every single study session if I was going to use you to just take the final for me?"

I see a flicker of realization—hope—in her eyes, and I cling to it desperately.

"I used tutoring as a gateway to spend more time with you because I liked you, and I wanted to do better because of you," I admit. "All those bets—why would I try so hard to get good grades if I was just going to use you in the end? If I didn't care? Finch," I swallow thickly past the lump in my throat. "Why would I let you be the only girl I've allowed in my room? The only one I've ever shared my past with? Why would I literally beat myself up over disappointing you?" I hold up my hands, flashing her my busted up knuckles.

She gasps and her eyes flood with worry, her body tense like she wants to reach out and touch me, but refrains herself from doing so, showing me that beneath her anger there's still some sort of affection for me.

"I'm in love with you, Olivia," I admit, being the most vulnerable and transparent I have in my entire life. "And I know I don't deserve you, I know that, but I'll be damned if I don't at least try."

The tears in her eyes spill over as she looks at me, utterly conflicted. "I wish I could believe you," she says eventually, her voice a broken whisper.

"What?" I breathe, going into utter panic mode. I feel like I'm hanging off the edge of a cliff by a rope and the rope is frayed down to a single strand. I grab her arms, begging for her to believe me. "No. I love you, Finch, and I would never purposefully do something to hurt you."

"Then why would you sleep with her?" she cries.

"I didn't," I assure her. "I swear to God I didn't. I would never do that to you. Never," I vow.

"She was wearing your hoodie!" she yells hysterically, raising her voice, something I've never heard her do.

Dumbfounded, I stumble a step backwards. "It was probably an old hoodie she stole years ago," I try to reason, knowing that could be the only explanation.

Tears stream down her face, the look in her eyes shattering. She shakes her head. "It was the hoodie you wore last week. The black one. The one with the large rip at the left collarbone."

My face pales, my heart stopping while my mind runs a million miles a minute. I know the exact hoodie she's talking about. She gave me shit for wearing that hoodie because it had a huge hole in it. I wore it last week and plenty of times before that. How the hell could Adrianna have gotten that hoodie?

"I—I don't... I swear, this is just a big misunderstanding."

Olivia squeezes her eyes shut, as if she's in pain. "Just stop," she whispers, her voice a broken plea. "Stop lying. Stop trying to play games with me. You already basically admitted it yesterday."

"What?" I blurt out, baffled.

She opens her eyes, looking right at me. "Yesterday, outside the building when you came running after me. You said her name," her voice wobbles. "You were talking about your alarm... and then you said her name. Then you paused and said you're sorry... like you were guilty."

"No, no, no." I shake my head, stepping towards her. "I was sorry for not showing up on time. For letting you down. And when I said her name, it was because I knew she had something to do with my alarms not going off." I wrack my brain, trying to think of a logical explanation. "She must have snuck into my room during the fire drill to mess with them and steal my hoodie."

"Then how was she outside so fast with the rest of us?" she asks, apparently noticing Adrianna outside the night of the fire drill too.

"I—I don't know," I choke helplessly.

I can see it in her eyes, somewhere deep, deep down she wants to believe me, but there's too much evidence stacked against me. That the negative voices of everyone else are too loud, influencing her judgment about me.

She tips her head back, trying to keep her tears at bay.

I grab her arms again, begging her to look at me. "Finch, I swear I would never do that to you. I would never be that cruel. You have to know that."

She looks at me with such vulnerability, such confusion that it completely breaks my heart, shattering it into a million pieces.

The door to the lab creeks open and Mrs. Cooper sticks her head in. "Olivia?" she asks, concern laced in her tone as she looks at the both of us—at her prized TA crying in the middle of the lab. She steps inside, looking at me skeptically. "Is everything alright?"

Olivia sniffles, quickly swiping at her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. "Yeah, Mrs. Cooper. Everything is fine," she says, voice rough as she hugs the papers in her arms tighter to her chest.

Mrs. Copper doesn't take her narrowed eyes off of me. "Has everyone finished taking the exam?"

"Yes," Olivia replies, shrugging out of my hold and skirting around me to Mrs. Cooper.

Mrs. Cooper holds the door open for her, shooting me one last disapproving and warning glance before slipping out of the room with Olivia.

As soon as the door closes with a soft click, I lose it. Beyond frustrated, feeling utterly hopeless, I kick the nearest stool, sending it toppling over with a loud bang.

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I grab it, glancing at the incoming call from Brennen. I hit the ignore button and shove my phone back into my pocket, not in the mood or mental state to talk to anyone right now.

Heart pounding, I race back to my room, immediately rifling through my hamper. I tear each piece of clothing out one by one, not finding my black hoodie that should be in there.

"Fuck," I spit, kicking the plastic hamper.

My phone keeps buzzing in my pocket, pissing me off further. I grab it out of my pocket and throw it at the wall out of blind anger.

Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, I try to even out my breathing, calm my nerves, but I make the mistake of glancing up at my alarm clock that's still dead, taunting me, absolutely sending me over the edge.

I pick up the dead clock and throw it as hard as I can at the back of the door with a scream.

Restless, breathing heavy, I snatch up my keys and pick up my phone from the floor, ignoring the large crack in the screen now. I hop on my bike and zoom five minutes down the road to an all too familiar apartment complex.

My tires squeal when I slam on the breaks, fishtailing a bit as I haphazardly pull into the nearest parking spot. I jump off my bike and march up to Adrianna's door, pounding my fist against the wood.

Nothing.

I pound again persistently.

Silence.

"Damn it!" I seethe. She must have already gone home for the break.

I snatch my phone out of my pocket again, ignoring all the missed calls and texts from Brennen, and go to my contacts, clicking on a name I thought I'd never call again.

Adrianna picks up on the fifth ring, more than likely purposefully making me wait.

"Hey, Bronx," I hear the smugness in her voice. "Long time no chitchat."

"How the fuck did you get my hoodie?" I practically growl.

"Whatever do you mean?" she ask, feigning innocents.

I clinch my jaw, not in the fucking mood to play games with her. "You pulled the fire alarm and snuck into my room, didn't you?" I accuse.

"No," she says simply, eerily calm and nonchalant.

"Do you think I'm fucking stupid, Adrianna?" I seethe. "I know it was you that pulled the fire alarm and messed with my alarms."

"Do you really think I'm that stupid, Bronx?" she says, her voice condescending. "Pulling a fire alarm can get you expelled if caught. But I guess some people aren't too smart enough to know that. I'm honestly kind of surprised you haven't figured it out yet."

Something in her tone makes me very uneasy.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

She lets out the tiniest noise of indifference. "Have a good break, Bronx. See you next semester."

The line goes dead.

I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it, dumbfounded and fuming.

Not even three second later, my phone lights up with another incoming call from Brennen.

"What?" I snap, finally picking up his call.

"They know who pulled the fire alarm."