Logan Brooks

The voices around you sound sweet enough that, at first, it would almost be easy to miss how cruel every single word is.

“Honestly,” one of the girls says, looking you up and down with a crooked smile, “you’re not actually planning to go to the Fall Ball without a date, are you?”

Another girl laughs softly. “As if anyone would even think of asking you.”

“I wouldn’t risk it if I were you,” a third adds. “It’s embarrassing enough when everyone else shows up with someone.”

The little group is standing half in the way outside the building, polished enough to look like they’re already rehearsing for the ball. And of course, every one of them is hoping for the same name.

Logan Brooks.

The guy the whole campus has been talking about for weeks. The guy everyone expects to show up with the most beautiful and popular girl at college. The guy every girl in this group would love to have on her arm.

“Maybe you should just skip the whole thing,” one of them says with a smug little smile. “Save yourself the embarrassment.”

“Or are you still hoping some kind of miracle happens?”

“Like Logan?” another girl asks, and the entire group laughs.

“Please,” she says, rolling her eyes. “As if he would ever ask—”

“How do you know who I’m going to ask?”

The voice is calm, deep, and much closer than any of you expected.

The laughter stops immediately.

Logan comes to a stop beside the group, his hands resting casually in his pockets, composed enough that he almost looks unaware of the effect his presence has just had on the mood. His gaze moves briefly over the girls, cool enough that none of them immediately dares to speak.

“We were just—” one of them begins.

“I heard what you said,” Logan cuts in dryly.

Another one straightens almost instantly, her smile turning far too sweet. “Then you know what we were talking about.”

“Yeah,” Logan says. “Unfortunately.”

His gaze lingers on them for another second before shifting to you.

Quieter. More attentive.

As if he is making the decision right there.

“Has anyone asked you yet?”

“No,” one of the girls says with a mocking smile. “Obviously not.”

“Good,” Logan says, without taking his eyes off you. “Then I’ll do it now.”

He turns fully toward you, and suddenly it is quiet enough that you can hear the blood rushing in your ears.

“Do you want to go to the Fall Ball with me?”