My Rebound (On My Own #2) - Carrie Ann Ryan Page 0,10

need to be defined by what society says it is. It can be whatever you need it to be.

Mackenzie: I don’t understand you.

Me: Nobody ever does. Go on a date with me, Mackenzie. Show the world that you bounced back, are happy, and are ready to worry about your journey and not what they think.

Mackenzie: So, you’re saying you want to be my rebound for other people?

Me: No, I want to be your rebound because I don’t want you to worry about other people.

Mackenzie: I don’t understand you, Pacey.

I smiled, knowing she was repeating herself.

Me: You don’t need to. Just think about it.

Mackenzie: I have class tomorrow. So do you. And you know damn well I’ll be thinking about it.

I smiled and drank more of my water.

Me: Good, my plan is complete. Sleep well, Mackenzie. And think and dream about me.

Mackenzie: Not even in the slightest, Pace.

I smiled at the nickname.

Me: But I’ve planted the seed in your head. You won’t be able to resist me.

Mackenzie: You annoy me. I’ll see you in class. I hate you.

Me: You don’t. That’s why you’re thinking about me. Your favorite rebound.

I set down the phone, knowing she wouldn’t text again. I would see her in class tomorrow, and then I’d determine what to do. Because I knew that even through her scowl, a smile would appear.

And maybe, just maybe, the semester wouldn’t be so terrible, after all.

Chapter 3

Mackenzie

“How do we already have so much work? It’s only been a week.”

I looked up at Nessa and smiled. “Because it’s college, and they’re all trying to outdo one another,” I replied snarkily, and Nessa just rolled her eyes.

“At least you like your classes. I’m still trying to figure out if I even like my major.”

I shook my head. “You do. This semester is just different.”

“I think I tell myself that every semester. Say I’ll get used to it. But then I find myself wanting to watch Netflix and drink tea and pretend that I don’t have to do anything, and money just comes to me.”

“That’s the dream,” Natalie added as she frowned over her textbook. Elise sat on the other end of the couch, a frown on her face as she looked at her syllabus. I sighed, knowing that while the rest of them could probably do some of their coursework online, I had a paper that I could try to focus on, but I had proofs that needed to be done first and on paper. That’s what happened when you were a math major.

“I like math.” I shrugged and thought back on Nessa’s words. “Tea? I thought you drank coffee.”

“Oh,” she said, blushing. “Pacey got me hooked on tea. Now, I can’t stop drinking it. He bought me this awesome Harney & Sons blend. It’s called Paris, and it’s fruity and yummy.”

Natalie leaned forward. “You like fruity tea? I thought you liked sweet black tea.”

Nessa just smiled. “Oh, it’s not like a fruit tea like hibiscus or anything, more like a black tea with a hint of sweet flavor. He also has a chocolate one, but he won’t let me have any.”

“Chocolate tea?” I asked, intrigued. “That sounds marvelous.”

“It is,” Nessa said dreamily, leaning into the couch.

“Tea,” I muttered. “Maybe it’ll be better than coffee and will still keep me up this semester.”

“I don’t know, I like coffee,” Elise said, smiling softly into her book.

I met Natalie’s gaze, and we both smiled.

“I know why you like coffee,” Nessa teased.

“Oh, shush,” Elise said and sank into her end of the couch.

She had met Dillon for the first time in a coffee shop, though they hadn’t spoken. No, a dare at a house party had begun their genuine relationship. But that fated meeting across the way at that coffee shop, the place we all went to and loved that was three stories and full of spaces to study, was their meet-cute. At least, according to them. And they frequently went there and met up during the day if their classes weren’t on opposite ends of campus.

It was my favorite place to study if I wasn’t at home, as well. It had just the right number of people to get my extrovert fix, but not enough that it was too loud and annoying and I couldn’t study.

I didn’t know if I considered myself an extrovert or an omnivert. I sort of got exhausted after a while no matter what, but I usually blamed that on me. Because I had to be the one helping out, cleaning up,