Tuesday night is so dead the Cineplex feels like a tomb. Bored at the dorms, I decided to come out, just to be even more bored here.

I’m scrolling my phone, bored enough to burn the place down, when I spot him behind the counter: Noah. Freshman, gangly, messy brown hair, glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, uniform swallowing his skinny frame. The kind of boy who’s never even been kissed without asking permission first.

Perfect playmate.

I saunter over and lean on the glass.

My cropped cardigan gapes open on purpose. No bra. The air-conditioning is brutal; my nipples stiffen instantly, dark and shameless against the thin knit.

Noah...