Right after high school graduation, my dad had a sudden midlife crisis and bleached his hair platinum blonde. On college move-in day, he showed up dripping in streetwear, riding a custom Harley to drop me off. He was way too hot for his own good, turning heads the entire way across campus. Everyone staring assumed he was my sugar daddy. And of course, out of all the people in the world, the guy I’d been secretly crushing on was there to witness it. David. He just gave us one cold, sweeping look and walked away. Later that night, I ended up screaming “Daddy” until my throat went hoarse. David showed absolutely no mercy. 01 The midlife crisis hit my dad hard the second I got my high school diploma. The platinum blonde hair was just the beginning. By the time college move-in day rolled around, he rolled up to the dorms on a roaring motorcycle, decked out in designer streetwear. He pulled off his helmet and casually shook out his hair. I buried my face in my hands. “Dad, you’re thirty-six. Not sixteen.” The second I stepped into my dorm room, my three new roommates practically broke their necks peering out the window. “Holy shit, who is that blonde god who just dropped you off?” “Broad shoulders, narrow waist, legs for days. The older man aesthetic is literally aiming right for my heart.” “Is that your boyfriend?” I dropped my suitcase on the floor. “That’s my dad.” The room went dead silent for three seconds. Then, one of them looked at me with absolute deadly seriousness. “Is your dad currently accepting applications for step-daughters? Because I can call him Daddy right now.” I just stared at her. Right on cue, my dad knocked lazily on the open door frame. “You all unpacked, sweetie? Let’s go grab some food.” My roommates’ eyes instantly shifted from shock to pure, unadulterated envy. I grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the hallway as fast as I could. “Let’s go, let’s go. Stop embarrassing me.” My dad raised an eyebrow. “Embarrassing? Do you know how many girls asked for my Snapchat on the way across the quad?” He smoothly took my tote bag from my shoulder and looked down at me. “What are you craving, sweetie?” I was just about to tell him to stop being so cheesy when my eyes locked onto David. He had just finished playing basketball. His dark hair was damp with sweat, his white t-shirt clinging to the sharp lines of his shoulders and back. His pale skin was flushed from the workout. My heart kicked into overdrive, heat rushing straight to my cheeks. For three years of high school, I had quietly passed him notebook paper, lent him pens, and stared at the back of his head more times than I could count. He was standing just a few feet away, holding a bottle of water. His dark eyes dropped to where my dad’s hand was resting casually on my shoulder. My chest tightened. I opened my mouth to call out to him. “David.” Before the word fully left my lips, his knuckles turned white, and the plastic water bottle in his hand gave a loud, violent crack. The guy standing next to him jumped. “David, what the hell man? Aren’t we grabbing food?” David dragged his gaze away, his voice freezing cold. “I lost my appetite.” He turned on his heel and walked away. The greeting died on my tongue. His friend stood there looking totally lost. “What is his problem? He was literally fine two seconds ago.” Another guy rubbed the back of his neck. “No idea. He’s been acting like someone keyed his car ever since he got back from registration.” He paused, lowering his voice. “You don’t think it’s about Brenda, do you?” Brenda. Just hearing that name felt like a bucket of ice water down my back. On the day of his eighteenth birthday party, Brenda was the only girl David had actually accepted a gift from. So he was in a bad mood because of her. My dad watched David walk away, then looked down at me and patted my shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, kid. Men are basically garbage anyway.” I shot him a flat look. “Right. Coming from the guy who had a kid at eighteen. Real solid track record.” Late that night in the freshman boys’ dorm, the silence in David’s room was suffocating. His roommate, Brody, was scrolling through the campus gossip page when he suddenly burst out laughing. “Bro, you gotta see this. Some blonde dude on a Harley dropped a freshman girl off today. First day of college and her sugar daddy is already marking his territory.” David lifted his eyes. “Who.” Brody tossed him his phone. In the grainy photo, the blonde guy was holding Sally’s bag in one hand, his other arm draped protectively over her shoulder. Sally was looking up at him, a bright, effortless smile on her face. The comment section was completely out of control. “Freshmen are built different this year. Boyfriend already pulling up to assert dominance?” “The older guy blonde aesthetic is actually doing things to me.” “Who wouldn’t want a 6-foot-2 older Daddy who actually pays for things?” David stared at the screen for a long, agonizing minute, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. “Do girls really… like calling their boyfriends Daddy now?” 02 The next day was uniform pickup for the mandatory Freshman Phys-Ed Boot Camp. I dragged a heavy stack of registration forms around the campus quad for twenty minutes before finally accepting that I had zero sense of direction. The late summer sun was brutal, making my head spin. To make matters worse, my heavy duffel bag got snagged on the corner of a concrete step. I yanked it twice, but it wouldn’t budge. Suddenly, a large hand reached past me. David lifted the bag with zero effort, his face completely unreadable. “Where are you going.” I blinked up at him. “What are you doing here?” “Just walking by.” His tone was detached, but he smoothly slung my heavy bag over his own shoulder and took half the forms right out of my arms. I had to jog slightly to keep up with his long strides, my heart doing stupid little flips in my chest. “Yesterday… why did you just leave like that?” David’s footsteps faltered. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t want to interrupt you two.” “Interrupt what?” We kept walking side by side. There happened to be a local farmer’s market pop-up near the edge of campus, and a guy selling produce was shouting over the crowd. “Fresh watermelons! Sweetest on campus!” David’s comment about not wanting to interrupt had left an empty, hollow feeling in my chest. Needing a distraction, I crouched down by the fruit stand. I tapped the rind of a dark, deeply lined watermelon at the edge of the pile. “I’ll take this one.” The vendor grinned widely. “You’ve got a good eye, little lady. You picked out the oldest one in the bunch.” I was just about to nod when a cool, sharp voice drifted down from above me. “So you really do like them old.” I looked up, hugging the watermelon to my chest in total confusion. “Yeah. I guess?” He stared at the melon in my arms, a bitter little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Makes perfect sense.” I frowned. “What?” David didn’t say another word. He just adjusted his grip on my bag and kept walking. I instinctively called out after him. “David.” He stopped, but he didn’t turn around. I gathered my courage. “Are you just having a really bad week or something?” Suddenly, a guy jogged up and clapped him on the shoulder. “David, bro. Brenda’s been looking everywhere for you. She said to meet her by the South Gate.” Brenda. Those three syllables killed whatever courage I had left. I walked up and pulled my bag off his shoulder, forcing a polite smile. “You should go. I can find my dorm from here.” David turned to look at me, his dark eyes colder than they had been all day. “Am I that embarrassing to be seen with?” I recoiled, shocked. “No. I just don’t want to keep you from her.” David stared at me for a long, heavy moment. I dropped my gaze to the pavement, refusing to say anything else. He had barely taken two steps when my phone started ringing. My dad’s booming voice blasted through the speaker. “Sweetie, you get your gear yet? I’m pulling the truck around to take you out to dinner.” I scrambled to turn the volume down. “Got it, got it. Please don’t come to campus, you’re causing a scene.” “Nonsense. It’s my baby girl’s first week—” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw David standing perfectly still, watching me. My hand jerked, and I accidentally hung up on my dad. David’s gaze was glued to my phone screen. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. “Sorry about him. He’s just like that.” David stayed quiet for a few seconds before letting out a dry, mocking laugh. “It’s really none of my business, is it.” Annoyance finally flared in my chest. I glared right back at him. “You’re right. Brenda is your business. Go.” I reached out to grab my stack of forms. My fingertips brushed against his skin, and I pulled back immediately like I’d been burned. David’s eyes flicked down to the text conversation between me and my dad on my screen. His voice was terrifyingly calm. “You better go too.” “Don’t want to keep your Daddy waiting.” He turned and walked away into the crowd. I stood there hugging my bag, a lump forming in my throat. What the hell was his problem. If Brenda was waiting for him, why was he taking it out on me. I looked down to text my dad, ready to tell him to stop calling me ‘sweetie’ in public. But when my eyes landed on his profile picture, I completely froze. When did this old man change his profile picture to this. I tapped on the image. It was an edgy, black-and-white anime guy, and right underneath it was a brand new bio: [Sole love of my life, Vivian.] Vivian. My mom’s name. 03 The first social mixer of the semester was at a Korean BBQ joint just off campus. I really didn’t want to go, but my roommates practically dragged me by the ankles. “If you don’t go to these things, you’re gonna be a ghost for the next four years.” By the time they shoved me into the private dining room, it was already packed. David was there. He was sitting by the window, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his dark shirt rolled up to his forearms. He was swirling a glass of liquor in his hand. Brenda walked over with a glass of lemon water and set it gently in front of him. “Pace yourself. You’re going to feel awful tomorrow.” David glanced up at her, then reached out and took the glass. I couldn’t stomach watching it anymore. I turned and walked right back out the door. If I had stayed one second longer, I would have seen David slide that exact same glass of water over to Brody. Brody looked at it like it was a holy relic. “For me?” “Drink it.” I stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, taking deep breaths. The cool night air helped clear the suffocating feeling in my chest. When I looked up, I accidentally locked eyes with David through the restaurant window. I immediately looked away. My phone buzzed. A text from my dad. [Sweetie, call me when you’re done. I’m parked by the campus gate.] Before I could even type a reply, my phone started ringing. “Dad, didn’t I say I’d text you when I was done?” He chuckled softly on the other end. “Just making sure no one sweeps you off your feet.” “Who is going to sweep me off my feet.” “You look exactly like your mother. I took my eyes off her for one second and managed to steal her right out from under your grandfather’s nose.” “…” Before hanging up, I threw one last glance over my shoulder. The dining room door was cracked open. David tipped his glass back and downed the rest of his drink in one smooth motion. His throat worked as he swallowed, his dark brows pulled low in frustration. Brenda was sitting right next to him, her hand resting lightly on his forearm. I ended the call, texted my roommates that I had a headache, and started walking. The wind picked up, making my eyes sting. I was walking down a quiet side street leading back to the dorms when I heard heavy footsteps behind me. “Sally.” I stopped. David caught up to me. He had left his jacket inside. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, his collarbone exposed, and the sharp scent of alcohol clung to him. I took a step back instinctively. “Why did you follow me?” He closed the distance between us, his voice rough and ragged. “Is he picking you up again?” “Who?” “Your Daddy.” I blinked, and the spark of anger from earlier erupted into a full blaze. The image of Brenda handing him water, of her hand on his arm, flashed behind my eyes. Who gave him the right to interrogate me. I lifted my chin and glared at him. “How is that any of your business?” The edges of David’s eyes turned a deep, bruised red. “So it’s true.” I furrowed my brows. “What is true?” He took another step, trapping me against the brick wall of the alley. His voice was dSallystatingly hoarse. “Is that the kind of guy you want?” He was so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. My stupid heart started hammering against my ribs. “David, you’re drunk.” He looked down at my lips, a bitter, self-deprecating smile twisting his features. “If he gets to be your Daddy.” “Let me be your dog. Deal?” I just stared at him. “What.” “David.” A soft, desperate voice echoed from the mouth of the alley. My entire body went rigid. Brenda was standing there, clutching his dark jacket against her chest. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. She saw how close he was standing to me and hesitated. But then she hurried over, reaching out to grip David’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Sally.” Her voice was thick with apology. “He’s completely wasted. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, please don’t take it personally.” David scowled, trying to shake her off. “Don’t touch me.” That was when I saw it. The silver band on the pinky finger of his right hand. The gift she had given him for his eighteenth birthday. It had her initials engraved on the inside. So they really had exchanged gifts. The last bit of warmth in my chest died. Brenda just tightened her grip on his arm. “You can barely stand up straight. Stop fighting me.” Brody and two other guys from the mixer came jogging down the street. “Bro, what are you doing out here?” Seeing Brenda holding him up, the guys immediately started feeding into the drama. “Brenda to the rescue again.” “Looks like his lady is the only one who can handle him when he’s like this.” “You two look too good together. Just make it official already.” David shot them a lethal glare. “Shut your mouth.” The guy choked on his words and looked away. Brenda stared at the ground, looking embarrassed. “Don’t say things like that.” A low, rumbling engine echoed down the street. Headlights swept over the brick walls. My dad walked into the pool of the streetlight, swinging his motorcycle helmet in one hand. His bleached hair caught the wind, looking absolutely unhinged and effortlessly cool. “Sweetie.” David’s head snapped up. My dad took one look at David stumbling in the alley, and the casual smile dropped from his face. Without missing a beat, he grabbed my arm and pulled me smoothly behind his broad back. “Listen here, kid.” “Stay the hell away from my girl.” David stared at me, hiding behind my dad’s leather jacket. For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of the motorcycle. Then, David slowly pulled his arm out of Brenda’s grip, snatched his jacket from her hands, and let out a broken, quiet laugh. “Right.” “Message received.” Brenda tried to reach for him again. “David, let’s just go.” He looked down, swatting her hand away completely. He let Brody throw an arm around his shoulder to keep him steady, and they walked away into the dark. Brenda trailed closely behind them. It wasn’t until his broad shoulders completely disappeared around the corner that I realized the cold wind had made my eyes start watering. My dad shoved the helmet against my chest. For once, his voice was completely serious. “You got feelings for that kid?” I looked down, gripping the helmet tightly. It took me a long time, but I finally shook my head. “Not anymore.” 04 I started actively avoiding him. And David went into a complete tailspin. When Brody pushed open the door to their dorm room that night, he found David sitting motionless in his desk chair. His phone was sitting on the desk, and he looked like he was attending a funeral. Brody jumped back. “Jesus, bro. Do we need to call a paramedic?” David looked up, his dark eyes swirling with pure frustration. “She hates me.” Brody threw his backpack on the floor and dropped onto his bed. “Sally?” David didn’t answer. Brody started laughing. “Oh, so now you’re panicking? Back in high school I told you to stop acting so untouchable. You liked her for three whole years and couldn’t even string a sentence together around her.” David gave him a death glare. Brody immediately threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop being right.” David gripped his phone, his knuckles turning white. “What do I do.” Brody rubbed his chin, pretending to think deeply. “What can you do?” “Just keep acting like a simp, obviously.” Brody dragged his chair over to look at David’s phone. “First of all, stop brooding in the dark like a serial killer. Let’s do some market research. What is her exact type?” Brody swiped open Sally’s social media and started scrolling through her likes and comments. He scrolled down. First video: A guy with bright red hair smirking at the camera. Sally’s comment: [Red hair!] [It’s the red hair!] [I am looking respectfully.] David stared at the words, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. Brody kept scrolling. Second video: A college guy in a black button-down, leaning against a railing and drinking water, his throat moving as he swallowed. Sally’s comment: [Good boy, drink up. Do you need me to hold it for you?] David: “…” Brody: “…” Brody let out a nervous laugh. “Gotta hand it to her, she’s got a way with words.” David’s voice was borderline demonic. “Keep scrolling.” Brody swallowed hard. Third video: A fitness influencer with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, lifting his shirt to wipe his sweat and flashing his abs. Sally’s comment: [I want to use Daddy’s abs as a slip and slide.] Brody couldn’t hold it in. He burst out laughing. David shot him a look that could kill. Brody immediately covered his mouth. David’s eyes were glued to the screen, tracking every single word. Fourth video: A guy wearing thin, gold wire-rimmed glasses reading a book in a library. Sally’s comment: [God I love a morally grey academic. Absolutely feral for this aesthetic.] David slowly looked at the massive pile of textbooks on his desk. Then he looked at the wire-rimmed glasses sitting on his nightstand—the ones he hadn’t worn in six months because they got in the way when he played basketball. Silence fell over the room. Brody opened his mouth to read the next one, but David cut him off. “Stop.” Brody was fighting for his life trying not to laugh. He cleared his throat. “Look, man. Girls just say this stuff on the internet. It’s a meme. It doesn’t mean anything.” David suddenly looked up, a terrifying light in his eyes. “So she likes guys with red hair and gold glasses.” Brody nodded slowly, sensing danger. “I mean… I guess?” David lowered his eyes, internalizing the information like a battle plan. A deep, unshakable sense of dread washed over Brody. The next morning during the Phys-Ed Boot Camp roll call. I had just adjusted the brim of my cap when a massive wave of whispers rolled through the freshman formation. “Holy shit, who is that?” “Is that a new instructor?” “No, that’s David.” I snapped my head up. David was walking across the turf in his tactical uniform. The bright morning sun hit him, illuminating the fact that his normally dark, untouchable hair had been dyed a vibrant, reckless shade of red. And sitting perfectly on the bridge of his nose was a pair of thin, gold wire-rimmed glasses. It made his pale skin look flawless, making his dark eyes look infinitely sharper and more intense. My heart completely betrayed me and skipped a beat. David walked straight up to me and nervously ran a hand through his red hair. Fifty people were openly staring at us. He seemed totally oblivious to the absolute spectacle he was causing. He leaned down and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Do you like it?” I just blinked. The girl standing next to me inhaled sharply and started pinching my arm behind my back. I winced, fighting to keep my face neutral. “It’s fine.” A spark of genuine hope lit up David’s eyes. “You like it?” Before I could even think of a response, a massive collective gasp echoed from the other side of the field. “Oh my god!” “They’re matching!” “Brenda dyed her hair red too!” My blood ran cold. Brenda was walking over from the second platoon. Her normally soft, brown hair was now a fiery, unmistakable red. In the sunlight, the coordination was impossible to miss. She saw David’s hair and stopped in her tracks, looking surprised. “Wow, what a coincidence, David.” The entire field erupted into chaos. “Are you kidding me? Just date already!” “Matching hair dye is insane.” “Brenda knows exactly what she’s doing!” “Bro, you can’t hide it anymore!” David’s face instantly hardened into stone. “Shut up.” But the damage was done. The more he denied it, the louder the cheering got. Brenda stood next to him, the tips of her ears burning pink. She spoke softly, meant only for him. “I was just thinking about changing my look yesterday, I didn’t expect…” I stood there mentally cursing myself for being such an idiot. Five seconds ago, I had actually let a pretty face trick me. I had almost become a pawn in their little romantic drama. David turned back to me, real panic flashing in his eyes behind the gold frames. “Sally, it’s not what you think.” I looked up at him. “What do you think I’m thinking?” He froze. I pulled the brim of my cap down low over my eyes, making my voice as dead and hollow as possible. “David, what color you dye your hair has absolutely nothing to do with me.” The instructor blew the whistle, and I immediately spun around and fell into formation. “Line up! Anyone caught talking is running laps!” I stood perfectly still under the blazing sun, my spine rigid. Thank god the heat was so brutal. It dried the moisture in my eyes before anyone could see. For one split second, I actually thought he had changed his hair for me. Looking back, it was the dumbest thought I’ve ever had. 05 That night, the tension in the boys’ dorm was lethal. When Brody pushed the door open, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Did someone turn the AC down to freezing?” David was slumped in his desk chair, radiating despair. He was staring blankly at his phone screen. Right above the text box was a bright red exclamation mark. “Damn, bro. You got blocked? It’s really over for you.” Brody winced. David aggressively ran a hand through his red hair, his voice completely wrecked. “Why does she hate me even more now?” Brody rolled his eyes and dragged his chair over. “Are you insane? You show up with the exact same hair color as Brenda. It’s basically a neon sign screaming ‘Couples Goal.’ Sally isn’t blind. Why would she be nice to you after that?” David looked genuinely crushed. “How was I supposed to know Brenda dyed her hair? I literally took the idea from Sally’s internet comments!” “And this is why you’re single.” Brody leaned back, slipping perfectly into his role as the master strategist. “But the reality is, you stepped on a landmine. You said you were gonna be her dog. What is the number one rule of being a dog?” David looked lost. “What.” “You gotta wag your tail!” Brody slapped his own thigh. “You have to grovel! Buy her things, apologize, be pathetic! Girls love a guy who is obsessed. You gotta lower your pride, man. Do you understand?” David stared thoughtfully at a post Sally had made three days ago. [90 degrees at Boot Camp. An iced watermelon juice would literally save my life right now.] After a long pause, he gave a slow, serious nod. The next day during training, my body decided to betray me. Aunt Flo arrived early, and she was furious. Standing in formation under the brutal sun, I was clutching my stomach, cold sweat dripping down my spine. When the break whistle finally blew, I dragged myself into the shade of a large oak tree. I was just about to curl up into a ball on the grass when a freezing cold cup of iced watermelon juice appeared in my line of sight. I followed the long, tanned arm up and saw David. He was breathing hard, a thin layer of sweat shining on his forehead like he had just sprinted across campus. He pushed the cup closer to me. The ice rattled against the plastic. “I got this for you.” I stared at the frost forming on the outside of the cup, and I swear to god, my uterine lining retaliated with a violent cramp. I weakly pushed his hand away. “I don’t want it.” David looked confused. “Is this about Brenda?” Hearing her name when I was already in blinding pain was the final straw. “I said I don’t want it!” I practically yelled it, clutching my stomach and turning my back to him. I couldn’t even look at his face. David stood there holding the freezing juice, completely spiraling into a pit of self-doubt. He immediately pulled out his phone and texted Brody. [She refused the juice. She wouldn’t even let me explain. She looked at me like she wanted me dead. What do I do.] Brody replied instantly. [You’re an amateur! Maybe she just wasn’t craving watermelon today? Listen to me. Go to the cafe and buy one of EVERYTHING on the menu. Let her choose!] David thought this was a brilliant tactical move. He turned and sprinted toward the campus strip mall. When afternoon training finally ended, I was practically a walking corpse. I finally had a second to breathe. Suddenly, four delivery guys on electric scooters slammed on their brakes right in front of me. “Which one of you is Sally Sinclair? Your drinks are here!” While dozens of my classmates watched in absolute shock, the delivery guys started hauling massive insulated coolers onto the grass. I walked over, completely bewildered. “Miss, here are the 43 iced beverages you ordered. Please sign here.” I looked down. Iced lemon slushies, frozen green tea, mango madness with extra ice, cold-brewed oolong… Forty-three massive cups. Every single one packed with ice, gleaming in every color of the rainbow, spread out across the lawn. And right in the middle was a massive, handwritten receipt note: [For Sally. — David.] My classmates started whispering and making “ooooh” noises. Meanwhile, I stood in front of an absolute mountain of freezing, icy drinks, feeling the knives twisting in my lower abdomen, and thought I might actually pass out from rage. The hormones took over. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely unlock my phone. I pulled his number out of my blocked list, typed furiously, and hit send. [David, if you want to murder me, just stab me and get it over with!] Then, I blocked him again. Leaving David sitting in his dorm, staring at a red exclamation mark, questioning his entire existence. After failing twice, David was completely dSallystated. Brody watched him sulk, slamming his hand on the desk in frustration. “Drinks aren’t working. It’s time for the nuclear option. Bro, trust me on this. There is not a single woman on this earth who can reject flowers!” “Flowers?” “Yes! Red roses! 999 of them! Have them delivered straight to the lobby of her dorm. Bury her in romance and cash!” And so, early the next morning. I had just finished brushing my teeth when the dorm RA yelled up the stairwell. “Sally Sinclair! Room 302! You have a massive delivery!” I walked downstairs, totally confused. The second I hit the bottom step, I was confronted by a nightmare. A monstrous, six-foot-tall heart made entirely of crimson roses was blocking the main entrance to the building. The flowers were violently red, bleeding a thick, suffocating perfume into the enclosed lobby. A crowd of girls had already formed a circle around it, taking photos and whispering with absolute jealousy. My vision immediately went dark. Because I have chronic allergic rhinitis. And I am violently allergic to pollen. “Ah—Achoo!” My nose instantly flared with unbearable itching. Water started pouring out of my eyes like a broken faucet. “Sally, this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen!” my roommate squealed, shoving my shoulder. “Roman—achoo! God help—achoo!” I covered my nose with both hands, tears streaming down my face in endless rivers. I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Meanwhile, hiding in the bushes outside the dorm, Brody was acting like a sniper doing recon. He excitedly held down the voice memo button to David. “Bro! It worked! It worked flawlessly! Sally took one look at the flowers, dropped to the floor, and started bawling her eyes out! She was so overwhelmed with emotion she couldn’t even speak! The tears are literally flooding the lobby!” Sitting up in his bed, David heard the memo and shot up like a rocket. He immediately opened a fake Instagram account he had made the night before (after realizing he was blocked again), pretending to be a student council rep. [Do you like the flowers, Sally? It’s David.] Half an hour later. Campus Clinic. IV Therapy Room. I was slumped back in a sterile chair, questioning why I was born. My left arm was hooked up to an IV dripping antihistamines, and my right hand was crushing a wad of tissues as I violently blew my nose. My phone buzzed. I stared at the direct message, my vision going red with absolute fury.
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