Chapter 3: Maddie

Maddie wasn’t sure if Kaplan was going to the party, but she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to look cute and mingle.  And, if he didn’t show up, she might just pay him a visit at his apartment. 

Maddie stood in front of her floor-length mirror, turning this way and that, letting the soft lamplight bounce off her perfectly styled auburn waves. Tonight, she had chosen a deep emerald dress — sexy enough to be noticed, elegant enough to seem effortless. Every detail mattered: the shimmer of her earrings, the gloss on her lips, the way her heels elongated her legs just so.

She picked up her phone, scrolling absently through her notifications, but her thoughts weren’t on likes or comments. They were on him. Kaplan.

Her pulse quickened at the memory of their brief chats in class, the way he had smiled politely at her once, as if he didn’t yet realize the gravity of her attention. That smile had been enough. Enough to convince her that he was the prize she had to win. Two casual dates had given her a glimpse, and Kaplan’s polite disengagement had only made her more determined. If he wouldn’t come willingly, she would make sure he never left her orbit.

Maddie smirked as she adjusted the pendant she wore — a subtle, chic nod to the tiger motif she had noticed on Kaplan’s necklace during one of their dates. It wasn’t just coincidence; she knew instinctively which accessories might catch his eye. Subtle, calculated, magnetic — just like her.

Her social calendar was usually a battleground, each party a chessboard. Tonight, she had one goal: make sure she was the center of Kaplan’s world for at least a few hours. He might be distracted by his fieldwork obsession, his mystic hobbies, whatever obscure thing he thought was important. Maddie didn’t care. She knew attention was a currency, and tonight, she was spending it all on him.

She tossed her hair one last time, checked her reflection, and smiled. The party wouldn’t know what hit it.

She met up with the girls and pre-gamed a few shots to loosen them up.  Since they all still lived on campus, they weren’t worried about driving.  Maddie was only in her junior year and still living in the dorms because daddy wouldn’t give her the money to move out into her own apartment yet.  Student housing was so beneath her.

Maddie downed the last sip of her shot, the burn sparking a thrill of rebellion she liked to feel coursing through her. The dorm room smelled faintly of overpriced perfume and nail polish, but she barely noticed — her mind was already on the main event: the party. The girls giggled around her, swaying slightly, loosening up, trusting that tonight would be fun enough to erase any stress about classes or papers.

Living in the dorms still felt like a cage, a constant reminder that she hadn’t yet earned her independence — or at least that’s what she told herself. Daddy’s decision to withhold the apartment funds was a subtle punishment, a reminder that he still believed she should follow in his polished, conservative footsteps. Law school. Corporate connections. A life mapped out in marble and glass. Maddie, of course, had other plans.

Environmental studies had been her act of defiance — a degree chosen purely to irritate her father — while political science served as insurance. Someday, she might play the political game, bend the rules, and use it all to her advantage. But tonight, all of that melted into a singular goal: find Kaplan.

She’d spotted him in class, in the library, in fleeting moments between lectures, and her pulse always quickened. Two casual dates hadn’t been enough; his polite avoidance only fueled her obsession. She would be near him tonight on way or another. Watch him. Make him notice her. And if anyone — friend or rival — tried to get between them, Maddie was already strategizing how to handle it.

With a last glance in the mirror to ensure every strand of hair caught the light, she grabbed her clutch. The girls squealed in unison, ready to leave, and Maddie led the way down the dorm hallway, heels clicking sharply against the linoleum. Each step carried confidence, purpose, and the faint, insistent thrill of a plan in motion.