At me.

“Hi.” Dark hair, scruffy jaw, flannel shirt. Vaguely familiar.

And he’s talking. To me. There can be no mistake this time, his eyes are fixed on mine and there’s no one on my other side. I look twice to make sure.

But people don’t do this. People don’t notice me. Ever.

What is happening?

“Hi,” I reply. My face is already heating. I’m so unused to talking to fellow students, it’s actually making me blush. I take a slow breath. I can do this. I can talk to people I don’t know.

I can be normal.

Maybe.

“You did a great job last night,” he says.

“Oh. Thank you?” The heat in my face increases. He was there?

“I’m betting on you next time, so don’t let me down.” He lifts his fist.

I stare at it. I’ve seen people fist bump before, but I’ve never actually done it.

Before I can think about it too much, I tap my clenched fist against his. The gesture is unpracticed and graceless, but my classmate doesn’t seem to care too much.

His response is a slow grin, exposing a dimple on one cheek. “I’m Duke.”

I nod. “Reese.”

“I know,” he says.

Class starts.

I turn my attention to the front and try to ignore the presence of Duke while I take notes and listen to the lecture.

I guess I’m not so invisible anymore.

But I am exhausted from the lack of sleep. So much so, I nearly doze off, jerking awake when Duke stands up next to me.

“See ya, sleepy.” He laughs and takes off.

I blink. Everyone is moving. Class is over. Still a little fuzzy, I gather all my items and head down the steps to the front of the auditorium.

Relief soars through me when I get back to Jude’s after my last class and no one else is home.

Without another thought, I immediately collapse on the bed in the little room in utter exhaustion.

I don’t care if Fitz won the game last night. It’s daytime and he’s not using the bed now, so it’s mine.

Between the lack of sleep over the last couple of days and all the socialization, I’m drained. I conk out so hard I don’t emerge from my sleep cocoon until darkness is falling.

I’m not sure what brings me out of my slumber, whether it’s the dull sound of voices outside the door or the sensation that I’m not alone.

Either way, I blink my eyes open to find a figure standing in the middle of the darkening room.

Gasping, I jolt upright, heart pounding, brain still foggy from sleep.

“What?” I ask to the room in general.

“Sorry.” It’s Fitz. He clicks on the light and the Christmas bulbs fill the space with subtle illumination. “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

Was he watching me sleep?

Should I be flattered or offended? I reach a hand up to correct my mangled ponytail and wipe away any drool.