Imperfect Replacement

Derek Hardy called me past midnight, demanding I bring something to the hotel just off campus. His voice was sharp and urgent as he told me to hurry three times in the span of a single sentence.

I didn't even bother changing. Just threw on a heavy coat over my pajamas and ran out the door into the freezing winter night.

I grabbed what he needed from the convenience store and jogged all the way to the hotel. But before I could even step inside, I spotted him from across the street—standing at the entrance with a girl tucked under his arm.

"Ha! Told you she'd show!" The second he saw me running toward him, he puffed up and bragged to his buddies like he'd just won a bet.

His grin was blinding. And the faint flush creeping up from his cheekbones? Classic Derek after a few too many drinks. That was the only time his usually sharp, arrogant face ever softened into something almost gentle.

I caught myself staring for a second too long. By the time I snapped out of it, his friends were already chiming in.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. But seriously, man—other than that pretty face, what do you even have going on? How'd you get her so wrapped around your finger she'd run out and buy that for you?"

That.

The thing in my hand. The thing we all knew what it was.

The girl in Derek's arms went pink, burying her face in his chest with a coy little squeak. Derek just laughed, loud and careless.

His only comment about me?

"Because she's pathetic."

That was Derek for you. He knew I liked him, so he never held back—not even a little. He'd drag me through the mud in front of anyone, anytime, without a shred of shame.

I was used to it. I just dropped my gaze and pretended I didn't hear.

But tonight's crowd was grosser than usual.

"Pathetic how?" one of them snickered, exchanging a look with the others. "You ever tap that?"

Derek caught the insinuation right away. He shot me a disgusted once-over, then waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly. "Please. I'm not that desperate."

"Fair point. When does Derek ever go without a girl on his arm?"

They all cracked up.

The girl in his arms, though? She wasn't laughing. She pouted, eyes going wide and glossy like she was about to cry. "But I thought you said you liked me best?"

"Yeah, I do." Derek gave her shoulder a squeeze, slipping into that easy, practiced charm he used on every girl. "Don't listen to them. They're just messing around."

That face of his could smooth over anything. One lazy, half-hearted line and she was already calming down.

Then Derek nodded toward me. "Go get the stuff from her. We're heading in."

The girl walked over, took the bag from my hands, and leaned in close enough to whisper, "Huh. Guess a doormat's always gonna be a doormat."

I braced myself for something worse.

The last girl Derek had taken to a hotel actually slapped me across the face and told me to stop deluding myself. So this one? Just calling me a doormat? Honestly, that was nothing.

I shoved the bag into her hands without a word, shot one last look at Derek standing on those hotel steps, and turned around.

By the time I made it back to the dorms, the front door was already locked.

I pulled my coat tighter and knocked. Then knocked again. And again, until the night guard finally shuffled over, half-asleep and annoyed.

"It's this late, and you're just getting back?" She gave me a long, suspicious once-over.

"Sorry, ma'am. Lost track of time." I signed the log, threw in a few extra apologies and sweet talk, and finally made it upstairs.

The room was dark. The creak of the door stirred my three roommates.

"Where'd you disappear to this late?" Chloe Bennet, our RA, poked her head out from behind her bed curtain.

"Don't even ask," Sophie Cameron cut in. "Probably another Derek emergency."

"Can I just say—" Mia Frost threw her curtain open, clearly fired up even in the dark, "—that guy has nothing going for him except his face? What on earth do you even see in him?"

Even in the pitch black, I could feel their frustration burning through the air.