No clue what kind of karma got me stuck with William Wilde as my roommate.

College was supposed to be chill, finally some freedom. But with him? It felt like SAT season all over again.

I gamed, he hit the books. I went out, he grinded certs.

I tried everything to mess with his groove. Then one day, he looked up and went, "Isaac, do you like me?"

At 7 a.m., the bunk below creaked.

Someone jabbed my blanket.

"Isaac, up. Class at eight."

William, obviously. I stayed buried.

Then Jace's voice, all smug: "Still sulking about last night?"

He and Steve cracked up. I ripped the blanket off.

"I'm not mad," I muttered, climbing down to wash up.

Total lie. I was fuming.

Last night I confessed to an upperclassman in music club. She turned me down—said she liked William instead.

In the mirror, I caught him brushing his teeth behind me and scoffed.

William Wilde. Student council president. The day he stepped on campus, the forum went feral.

Not just grades—his looks too.

Six-two, broad shoulders, sharp brows, sharp eyes. That untouchable, prince-y aura everyone drooled over.

But I didn't like him.

Messing up my love life was bad enough. What really killed me was his grind.

When I gamed, he studied. When I went out, he was taking extra exams. Even the sound of him flipping pages made me feel guilty enough to put down my phone and open a damn book.

I tried everything.

Dragged him into gaming—he carried me.

Took him out like my friend suggested—total flop.

So I ranted on the forum: [How do you get someone to stop studying?]

One reply stood out:

[Easy. Get them to fall in love.]

That lit a bulb. I DMed the user. Once they swore it worked, I was in.

***

Love makes people lose it, right? If William got a girlfriend, no way he'd keep up the grind.

The more I thought about it, the better it sounded. And I already had the perfect girl.

Alicia Pior—campus queen. Pretty, sweet voice, total girl-next-door vibe. She even asked me once if William was single.

I grabbed my phone: [You there?]

Nothing.

Then: [William and I are grabbing lunch at Cactus Grill by the front gate. Wanna "accidentally" run into us?]

She shot back a thumbs-up instantly.

That's when it hit me—girls never looked at me the way they looked at him. Ouch.

I glanced at William. "Let's hit Cactus Grill today."

He nodded, raised a brow. "So you're not mad anymore?"

I huffed and looked away.

He chuckled under his breath. I pretended not to hear.

By noon, we were at Cactus Grill.

I bolted to the counter. "Yeah, this, this, and that," pointing at my usuals.

William trailed, stacking salad.

As soon as we sat down, I scanned the place, searching for Alicia.

William caught on. "Who are you looking for?"

Guilt stabbed me, but this was for him. I was serving him a gorgeous girlfriend on a platter. Lucky guy.

I straightened up, shot him a look—then spotted her.

Alicia. White dress, light makeup, glowing. Unreal.

I cleared my throat. "What a coincidence, Alicia."

She beamed. "What a surprise. It's packed—mind if I join you?"

I glanced at the empty seat across from me. "Of course, sit." Inside, I gave Alicia a mental thumbs-up.

No wonder she'd sworn she was going after William—girl staged that "accidental run-in" like a pro.

***

Alicia tried hard to keep the convo alive, but William barely said a word. Only perked up when she brought up schoolwork. Eventually, she bailed, tray still half-full.

Figured lunch must've sat heavy in her stomach.

As I watched her leave, a hand clamped on my head and spun me around.

I plastered on a sheepish grin.

William. Arms crossed. Face saying, 'start talking.'

"I just... noticed the campus queen had a thing for you, so I figured I'd play wingman. What if it worked out?"

He gave me a weird look. "Well, that was a waste of time."

I gawked. "Seriously? Alicia's gorgeous and you're not even interested? Either you've got no taste, or your standards are nuts."

He actually thought about it. "Sweet, gentle types aren't my thing. And I don't like people who waste food."

I stared. That was it?

Not your type—fine. But knocking her for wasting food? Dude, you iced her out so hard she couldn't eat.

I screamed that in my head. Out loud, I just kept nodding.

Still, I wasn't discouraged. The plan only bombed because I had no clue what kind of person William actually liked.

Couldn't just straight-up ask him—too obvious.

So I went fishing for answers from Jace.

Jace, the campus flirt. Always bragging about his 'plenty of girls, no strings' lifestyle. He hopped from girl to girl like it was a sport—always had one on his arm. If anyone knew, it was him.

That night I laid it out to him.

He cleared his throat. "You came to the right guy. Look, cute's got nothing on sexy. A dude like William—looks proper, secretly repressed? He'd totally fall for that type."

I cracked up.

***

Later, I scrolled through candid shots of Brittany Saxey on the forum.

Wavy hair, delicate face, slim curves, legs for days—walking head-turner. I stared at the screen, then at William, buried in prep for the Tech Startup Contest.

'Lucky you,' I smirked.

Finding out she'd once slipped him a love letter made my chest tighten.

Not that I was ugly. So why wasn't anyone chasing me?

I sulked over it while we walked, then asked him.

He gave me a once-over. "Your features are small. Face too. Makes you look super young. Honestly? First time I saw you, I thought you were some high schooler dropping off your older brother."

Yeah, message received—I was everybody's little brother.

"But you've got good looks," he added. "Especially your eyes. Shape's perfect. Really attractive."

He flashed a quick smile and walked ahead.

A few steps later, he glanced back. "I mean it. Your eyes are really pretty."

The sun hit his hair just right, turning it gold. Tall, gorgeous—my heart stuttered.

Crap. Was William actually flirting? No proof, but still.

I jogged up and smacked his arm, pretending to brush it off.

For days after, I kept slipping Brittany into conversation. Showed him pics, dropped random details.

Every time, he froze for a beat. Once, he even asked what I thought of her.

Yeah, felt like perfect timing to finally set them up.

I picked a busy street for the vibe and set their meet-up for the next day.

***

I got there early and ducked behind a stall.

When Brittany and William showed up and actually seemed to click, I called his phone, layering on fake stress. "Uh... something came up. Club leader dumped a last-minute task on me. Can't make it. You two hang without me."

He hesitated.

I cut him off fast. "Gotta go, he's calling again." Hung up.

William looked around.

I sank lower. For a second, I swore his eyes flicked my way... maybe just paranoia.

Tugging my baseball cap down, I finally felt a little safer.

The smell of fried cheese curds from a truck nearby had my stomach growling.

I watched them: snacking, watching street shows, Brittany trying on accessories while William stood there smiling like the perfect boyfriend. They looked like a couple.

Something twisted in my gut. Guess this is how Batman felt when Robin got a girlfriend.

I shook the thought away, but when I looked up—poof. They were gone.

Panic hit. I scanned the crowd—nothing.

Then I spun around and smacked straight into someone. My cap brim snapped back, throwing me off balance—until a hand caught me by the waist.

Another hand knocked my cap clean off.

I reached to grab it back—froze. My arm dropped.

"I... uh, finished my task early. Saw you guys and didn't wanna crash."

He let out a quiet, knowing laugh. "Do I really look that easy to fool?"

I bit my tongue. "Where's Brittany? You were just with her."

Glancing up, I caught his sigh.

"She went home."

***

I just nodded, trailing after him.

He stopped at a food truck. "One order of fried cheese curds. Extra ketchup."

My ears perked. I glanced up at him, surprised.

Minutes later, hot greasy treasure in my hands. I held one up to him. He met my eyes, leaned down, and took a bite.

Figuring he'd cooled off, I asked, "So... when did you know I was following?"

"From the start."

...Seriously? That fast?

He tapped my shirt. "You wore that yesterday."

Oh. Not trash stealth—trash laundry cycle.

He seemed chill now, so I pushed my luck. "So... what do you think of Brittany?"

He froze mid-step and turned, eyes locked on me. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. Do you like her or not?" My voice dipped under the weight of his stare.

Forever passed before he finally said, quiet but certain: "I don't."

Wait—seriously? Standards that high? Not even a smoke show like her made the cut?

Now I had to know. "Then what kind of person do you like?"

His gaze sharpened, holding me pinned for thirty whole seconds.

Just when I thought he'd blow me off, he leaned down, caging me in.

Startled, I shoved his chest. His heartbeat thudded against my palm, my arm going weak.

He let out a low laugh. "I like big eyes, a cute face... and someone clingy."

His breath brushed my skin, and heat shot straight through me.