You're the Reason - J. Nathan Page 0,15

Chase was in my first class.

I grabbed a coffee on my way to class, needing the caffeine more than I realized, and trekked toward the history building. Of course, I arrived before most, taking my seat in the back.

I sensed Chase before I heard him. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as he slipped into the seat beside me. My body tensed, but there was no way in hell I’d let him see that he fazed me.

“Have fun Saturday night?” he asked.

Instead of meeting his gaze, I reached into my bag and pulled out my laptop. “Nope. It was pretty uneventful.”

He scoffed. “I think your roommate would disagree.”

Inwardly, I groaned, the vision of the two of them turning my stomach as it had that night.

“You into Ryan?” he asked.

Slowly, I swung my head toward him. “Are we seriously going to do this right now?”

“Do what?”

My eyes narrowed, ready to tell him what I thought of his little stunt Saturday night.

“Mr. Reed and Ms. Galloway,” Professor Irons called as he stepped into the classroom, dropping his briefcase loudly onto the front desk.

Our attention shot to him.

“I’ve yet to receive your paper. Was there a problem meeting?”

I felt the color drain from my face and Chase’s steely gaze move to me. “I submitted it through the portal last Sunday.”

Professor Irons typed into his computer, staring intently into the screen. “It’s not here.”

“You said you knew how to do it,” Chase gritted out beside me.

I glared at him. “I do.” I opened the folder on my computer where the essay was saved and shared it once again through the portal. “I just sent it again,” I explained to the professor as I waited with baited breath.

“Got it,” he said, before glancing up at us. “But I’m deducting credit since it’s late.”

“What the fuck,” Chase muttered.

“Professor, I can show you the time of our last edit. I’m new to Crestwood. I thought I knew how to use the portal, but I guess I missed a step.”

“Sorry, Ms. Galloway. Deadlines are deadlines.”

The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach grew as I sat there stewing. I knew how to use the portal. I knew how to upload a God damned paper. And I did upload it. What the hell happened?

After a painstakingly long discussion on the historical accuracy of the roaring ’20s as depicted in film—not to mention attempting to avoid Chase’s angry stare for an hour straight, Professor Irons dismissed us.

I packed my notebook and laptop into my bag and, without giving Chase a chance to ream me out, I hurried out of class. Once outside and moving further away from the history building, I expected the pit in my stomach to dissipate, but if anything, it grew.

Things were spiraling out of my control. I thought moving back to Texas would change things for me. I just hadn’t thought they’d change for the worse.

“Sophia!”

I tensed, the sound of my name on his lips like fingernails to a chalkboard. I quickened my pace, not in the mood to be reprimanded yet again.

“Stop, God dammit!” Chase growled, stepping ahead of me quickly so I had to stop.

“What?”

“I should be asking you the same question.”

“I submitted that paper last Sunday the same way I submitted it today.”

He cocked his head, disbelieving.

“For all I know, you went in and removed it. You’re the only other person, besides Professor Irons, who had access to it and could’ve done it.”

“Why would I do that?”

I scoffed. “Seriously? You sent an Uber Saturday night so I could watch you make out with Chantel.”

His eyes tightened.

“You could’ve saved me the time and just sent the live stream I’m sure you’ve got set up.”

His brows pinched together. “I didn’t send an Uber.”

I cocked my head to the side.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.” The bewildered look in his eyes couldn’t be faked. He wasn’t kidding.

A cold chill scampered up my spine. “But you texted me.”

“So?”

“So? Then there was an Uber outside my dorm, and the driver said my friend sent it to bring me to your frat.”

“I’m not your friend,” he countered.

The twinge in my stomach gave me pause. What was wrong with me? He was right. We weren’t friends.

“And why would you get in a stranger’s car in the first place?” he asked.

“I thought…”

A sarcastic laugh escaped him. “You thought I wanted you at the party that bad I’d send a car for you?”

A blush crept up my neck and into my cheeks. When