I didn’t tell Sydney about helping Holden with his history paper, and apparently he didn’t mention it to her either. All the secrets I’ve ever kept from my best friend have involved her brother.

“Hey, Cassia.”

I automatically slow at the sound of my name. Glance at Harrison, who’s leaning against the cinderblock wall, filling his thermos.

“Hey,” I reply. Clear my throat and remember how he carried our last conversation. “Heading to practice?”

He smiles before answering, “Yeah.” Pleased I asked, I guess.

Harrison’s smile is warm and genuine. And I hate—absolutely despise—that all I can picture is the annoyance on Holden’s face when he saw Harrison sitting opposite me.

“This is Sydney,” I say, once again at a loss for anything else to say to him.

Harrison dips his chin in greeting as he screws the top on his water bottle. “Hey, Sydney.”

“Hi, Harrison.”

He smirks a little at how she addresses him without an introduction, but he doesn’t call her out on it. It makes me like him more.

“I’d better run. Coach is in his sadistic playoffs phase, so practice will be brutal. See you guys.”

“See you,” I say.

One final smile, and he’s gone.

“He likes you,” Sydney tells me as soon as he’s out of sight.

“He was being nice,” I reply as we walk outside.

Sydney gives me a look that’s remarkably similar to the one her brother did when I said the same thing. “Cassia.”

“What? He’s a nice guy. And you think he’s hot.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Girl code, Syd.”

Sydney laughs. “I’ve never even talked to him until just now. He’s fair game. If you like him, go for it.”

Unfortunately, that’s the problem. I don’t like Harrison—not in that way. When I look at his blond hair and brown eyes, I imagine them dark brown and blue.

Crushes can take time to develop, I guess. I don’t know anything about Harrison except that he plays football and is good at math. Maybe we have lots of shared interests that would make him more attractive and spark more of a connection.

I think those are the logical, sensible kinds of crushes, though. Where you really get to know someone and understand what they have to offer. Like a pro/con list for the heart. You form a conclusion first and then romantic feelings start to develop.

The problem is, I’ve experienced the illogical, consuming kind of crush. The can’t sleep, can’t eat sort. The stay up for hours to talk to him for minutes madness. Butterflies that keep flying. Giddiness that doesn’t fade. Holden hijacks my brain like there’s a part of him inside of me I can’t ignore.

I’m not sure how to explain that to anyone without sounding crazy.