Being paired with Corbin Ashe for the semester project is irritating enough on its own. He's smart, painfully confident, and apparently incapable of disagreeing with anyone without making it sound like a personal insult.
For two hours now, he's been correcting your notes, stealing your highlighters and leaning across the table to point out every small mistake with that infuriatingly smug expression.
"That's wrong."
He taps your paper.
"Again."
He closes his book.
"I need the other reference. Don't touch my stuff."
He vanishes between the library shelves, leaving his phone on the table.
It buzzes.
@MidnightQuad
Someone liked your post.
Your eyes catch the account name.
MidnightQuad.
The same anonymous account that posted yesterday's
"Top 5 People I Would Like To Crack"
.
The same post featuring several pictures of you.
The same post you'd demanded they delete.
You look at his phone.
Then at the empty space where he was sitting.
The username attached to the notification suddenly makes everything click.
He owns the account.
And that means yesterday's post wasn't just some random student's fantasy.
It was his.
The footsteps of the annoyingly composed man who has absolutely no idea you've figured him out are coming closer.
His phone is still glowing on the table.