I stare down at the mountain of cheese and crackers, but I don’t have much of an appetite anymore.

NICO: Good morning, bb. Meet for breakfast?

I stare at my boyfriend’s message for a good five minutes before assembling enough courage to respond.

ME: Sure. But I just woke up, so I need time to get ready. Pick me up in 45?

HIM: Sounds good :) I’ll msg u when I get 2 campus.

I’m nervous as I get ready. I decided I’m definitely going to confront him about what Hunter told me. I have no choice, because if I don’t, it’ll eat away at me like a slow-moving cancer, until I won’t even be able to look at him without wondering if he cheated.

Hunter has to be wrong, though. Like Pippa said, he’s either straight-up lying or he misinterpreted the situation. I’m hoping for the latter, because I enjoy our friendship and I don’t like the idea that he’s secretly been running a long con to get me into bed. That would be really shitty.

Nico texts when he’s outside. I step onto the porch and am greeted by his handsome face and beautiful dimpled smile. I find myself relaxing. I adore that smile, and I adore that face. He’s…well, he’s my first love. I’m always going to see him and have this giddy, schoolgirl reaction. And just because I’ve had some doubts about our relationship, some suspicions along the way, doesn’t mean we’re not a good couple.

“Hey mami.” He pulls me toward him for a hug, followed by a deep, tongue-tangling kiss.

I want to say it’s a lot of passion this early in the morning, but Nico is always this passionate. It’s the Cuban in him. He’s all about bold claims and romantic gestures.

“You look good enough to eat.” He smacks his lips together comically and I laugh.

“So do you. But I think I want some real food first.”

“You always want real food.”

“True.”

He snickers. “How was Boston last night?” he asks as we step off the porch.

“Good. My parents were bummed you weren’t there.”

“Me too. But I had to work.” He takes my hand. “Hopefully we can get up to see them before Thanksgiving.”

“I doubt it. I’ve got midterms, and in the beginning of November the sorority is planning that fundraiser for the animal shelter.”

His fingers loosely clasp mine as we walk towards the curb.

“Nice, you have your work truck,” I say. It’s one of the white pick-ups from the moving company, with their black and red logo stenciled onto the side.

“I know it’s only a ten-minute walk, but do you mind if we drive to Carver? I only have an hour.”

“You first class isn’t until two,” I remind him.

“I know, but I need to go to work for a few hours. I told Frank I’d do a small job before class.” He opens the passenger side door for me, then hurries around to get into the driver’s seat.

“You asked Frank about next Friday, right?”

Nico starts the engine. “Next Friday, like two weeks from now?”

“Yeah, it’s Corinne’s housewarming. You were supposed to tell Frank you couldn’t work that night.”

“Oh, right.” Nico nods, and a hunk of black hair falls on his forehead. I reach over to brush it away. “Sorry, I forgot because it’s so far away. But yes, I did talk to him. He promised I’d be outta there by seven.”

“Good.” I buckle my seatbelt. “Isn’t her new place so cute?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember what it looks like,” he says with a grin. “I’ve moved boxes into so many houses and apartments that they all blend together in my mind. Oh hey, I got you something.”

That piques my interest. “You did?”

“D and I were grabbing burgers in the city the other day, and the place had one of those gumball machines, except instead of gumballs it gave out little toys and trinkets. Cost me a buck, but”—Nico grins broadly—“I knew I had to get this for you.”

He pops open the small compartment in the center console and sticks a hand inside. Things rustle and keys jingle as he rummages around.

Finally, his hand emerges with a plastic yellow egg. “Here you go.”

Highly curious, I pry open the two plastic pieces, and a small baggie falls into my lap. I break out in a grin. The bag contains a pair of cheap, plastic earrings—enormous red hoops with black polka dots.

“Because I know how much you love the big hoops,” Nico teases.

“Aww, you’re the worst.” But I can’t stop grinning because this gift means Nico was thinking of me when he was out with his friends, enough to stick a dollar bill into some kiddie machine so he could get me these silly earrings.

“I love them,” I say, and then dramatically fling my arms around him and kiss his cheek.

“Also, they’re plastic,” he says helpfully. “So if they do get caught on anything, they’ll probably break apart before your earlobe gets ripped off.”

This boy knows me well.

He pulls away from the curb and it takes literally a minute to drive three parking lots over to the one behind Carver Hall. I have a meal plan since I technically live on campus, but Nico doesn’t, so he has to pay for his breakfast. He gets French toast, and I fill my plate with bacon, eggs and toast from the buffet. Then we find a cozy table in the back of the chalet-style dining hall. The room has an impossibly high ceiling, oak paneled walls, and round mahogany tables scattered throughout.

Ten minutes into breakfast, I finally raise the subject. “Hey, so I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hmmm?” He takes a bite of French toast.

“It’s just…and honestly, I am not accusing you of anything, so please don’t take it wrong way.”

That gets Nico’s attention. His fork snaps down on his tray. “Accusing me? What’s going on?”

“Um, well. Someone mentioned something to me and I wanted to discuss it with you.”

“Discuss what?”

Shit, what am I doing? Do I really want to discuss this in public? What if it goes horribly wrong?

But I already boarded the train and now I’ve gotta ride it all the way to crazy town. “Somebody saw you at the Alpha Delta party last weekend. With a girl.”

“Somebody saw me with a girl… Can we be a little more specific?”

“They saw you coming out of an upstairs bedroom with her, and you may or may not have been zipping up your pants.”

His dark eyes flash angrily. “Who said this exactly?”

“That’s not important.”

“Like fuck it isn’t. I want to know who’s spreading lies about me.”

I study his expression. He seems genuinely upset, and his denial didn’t ring false to me. Yet for some reason I don’t want to throw Hunter under the bus, so I lie about my source. “It was a random girl at the party who told one of my sorority sisters, who told me. How I found out isn’t important. I just wanted to be sure…you’re saying you didn’t do anything?”

“Of course not.”

I hear nothing but sincerity in his voice. “Were you at the party, though?”