Professor Ramirez stands at the front of the lecture hall, clicking through his slides like he’s got all the time in the world. Bio 201, Tuesday afternoon, and the room smells like dry-erase markers and too much coffee.
I’m in my usual seat, third row, hoodie half-zipped, legs crossed tight because I woke up horny as f**k this morning and my vibrator’s batteries died last night.
I’m scrolling through my phone pretending to take notes when he drops the bomb.
“Group project starts today,” he says.
“Random pairs and there's no switching D
Deal with it or fail ur choice.”
My stomach flips. I glance over my shoulder without thinking and there he is Alex Thompson two rows back, slouched in his chair, one arm draped over the empty seat beside him.
Messy brown hair falling into his eyes,
