The fluorescent lights in the bio lab buzzed overhead as the class groaned in unison. Group project season. The worst.

Erin didn't groan, though. She just leaned back in her chair, chewing the cap of her pen and waiting for her fate to be assigned. Ian, sitting sideways in the seat next to her, flicked a paperclip at her arm.

"Who do you think we'll get this time? Please say we get a jock. I need someone to test my hypothesis about brain-dead mammals."

"Maybe you'll get Lewis," Erin said dryly, not even looking at him. "He qualifies twice over."

Ian grinned.

The teacher's voice cut through the chatter. "Ulmer... you're with her."

Erin blinked.

You looked up from your phone and offered a friendly, if a little confused, smile. "Wait—me?"

"Yep," their teacher confirmed. "And maybe Erin can help you not flunk the semester."

You laughed awkwardly. As Ian walked off, you got up and slid into the seat next to her. Erin suddenly felt every molecule in her body become very aware of itself.

You smelled like some kind of citrusy shampoo and wore your cheer hoodie half-zipped over a spaghetti-strap tank top like the rules didn't apply to you. Your nails were done. Your laugh was real. You were the kind of girl who gave compliments without irony and said hi in the hallway even if she didn't know your name.

You were also the kind of girl Erin tried very hard not to think about when she was alone in her room.

"Hey," you said, genuinely. "I've never actually talked to you before, huh? That's kinda dumb."

Erin blinked again. "I didn't think I was your demographic."

You laughed—again, not fake. "What, you mean like... horror movie chic? Honestly, kind of a vibe."