Chapter 84 Chapter 83
Harper POV
The sorority house is loud when I get back.
Not party loud. Just… people loud. Doors opening and closing. Someone laughing down the hall. Music bleeding faintly out of the common room.
Normal.
Which is exactly what I want.
Normal means no Logan. No overthinking. No replaying his mouth on mine like my brain is broken.
I barely get three steps inside before someone grabs my arm.
“Hey!”
I yelp and spin.
Lila.
Of course it’s Lila.
Behind her are Emma and Priya, both wearing expressions that are way too pleased with themselves.
“What—?” I start.
“Nope,” Lila says immediately. “Don’t ask questions.”
“Lila—”
“Harper Lane,” Emma says solemnly, “you are being kidnapped.”
“By your own sorority,” Priya adds. “Which is technically not a crime.”
“I have a paper due—”
Lila cuts me off. “You’re going on a date.”
“I am not—”
“You are,” she says, eyes bright, “and since the universe has decided to be dramatic, so have we.”
They start steering me toward the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I demand.
“Your room,” Lila says. “And then… violence.”
I blink. “That escalated fast.”
“Fashion violence,” Emma clarifies.
They herd me into my room and shut the door like we’re about to plan a heist.
I drop my bag on the chair. “Okay. Someone explain.”
Lila turns, crosses her arms, and gives me a slow, deliberate look.
“So. I hear you’re being forced on a date with Logan Shaw.”
“I wouldn’t call it a date.”
“Oh, I absolutely would,” Priya says. “Nothing says romance like institutional pressure.”
I groan and flop onto my bed. “It’s for publicity. It’s stupid. I don’t even want to go.”
Lila smiles.
Not a nice smile.
A dangerous one.
“Perfect.”
“…Why is that perfect?”
“Because,” she says sweetly, “if Logan Shaw has to be forced to take you on a date, then we are going to make him deeply, spiritually regret being an idiot.”
Emma claps once. “Yes.”
Priya nods. “Emotional damage. But cute.”
“I am not a project,” I say.
Lila points at me. “No. You’re a weapon.”
“That did not make me feel safer.”
Priya is already in my closet. “Okay, first of all, why do you own so many oversized sweaters?”
“Because they’re comfortable,” I say. “And I look good in them.”
“You do,” Emma agrees. “But tonight we’re not doing ‘approachable campus hot.’ We’re doing ‘why did I ever fumble this.’”
Lila claps her hands. “Alright. Operation: Make Logan Shaw Question His Entire Life.”
“I hate all of you.”
“No you don’t,” Lila says. “You love us.”
And she’s not wrong.
Clothes start flying.
My usual uniform — soft sweaters, fitted tees, good jeans, sneakers, boots — ends up in piles on the bed.
“This is not about turning you into someone else,” Lila says, sitting cross-legged on my desk chair. “This is about turning the volume up on you.”
Priya holds up two dresses. “Okay. We’re choosing between ‘clean and lethal’ or ‘hot and don’t talk to me.’”
“Those are not real categories.”
“They absolutely are.”
Lila tilts her head. “Which one makes you feel more like yourself?”
I hesitate.
“…Both?”
They exchange looks.
“Oh,” Emma says. “We can work with that.”
An hour later, my room looks like a boutique exploded.
Another thirty minutes after that, I’m standing in front of the mirror in a black dress I forgot I owned. Simple. Sleek. Fits me like it was made for me. Not flashy. Not boring.
Just… confident.
Lila circles me slowly.
“Turn.”
I turn.
She nods. “Rude.”
“What?”
“That is extremely unfair,” Priya says. “You’ve been hiding under sweaters like a crime.”
“I was not hiding.”
“You absolutely were,” Emma says.
They sit me down and do my hair and makeup, but not in a way that makes me look like someone else. Just… sharper. Brighter. Like I slept and drank water and don’t emotionally spiral over hockey players.
When they’re done, I stand and stare at myself.
I look different.
Not like a stranger.
Like someone who stopped shrinking.
Lila steps next to me. “There she is.”
“I look like I’m trying too hard,” I say.
“No,” Priya says. “You look like you’re not trying at all. Which is way more dangerous.”
I laugh despite myself.
Then Lila’s voice softens.
“This isn’t about getting him back,” she says quietly. “This is about you remembering that you are not something someone picks up when it’s convenient.”
My throat tightens.
“He’s going to be weird,” I say.
“Good,” Emma says. “So are you.”
They all laugh.
Lila links her arm through mine. “Just remember: you are not walking into this hoping he chooses you. You are walking into this as someone who could walk away.”
I nod.
And for the first time in days… I actually believe it.