On a small campus like Davidson, I figured I'd probably see Josh again.

And yet our second encounter still managed to sneak up on me.

It was my second week of college: a reassuring milestone at which I'd started to shake off the initial nerves and become embedded in my new routine. Which, on the whole, was pretty consistent. Early-morning and mid-afternoon classes, sandwiching 12 o'clock coffee in the student center when night-owl Hanna finally dragged herself out of bed. Back to my dorm to study for a couple of hours. Dinner in the cafeteria with a group of Hanna's friends. Hanging out with them afterward in the Willard lounge. More often than not, being the first one to excuse myself to go to bed.

I was handling college life—and for that, I was proud of myself. But I could also see the obvious, even before my parents pointed it out: pretty much all my social activity was catalyzed by my extroverted best friend.

"Maybe you should try doing something on your own?" Mom suggested on the phone one night. "Like a group you're interested in. It might be good to meet some new people."

"I'm not sure," I said. "I've got a lot on, with classes and everything..."

"Think about it. You might surprise yourself."

So here I was. Taking her advice. Pushing myself out of my comfort zone, even though that had always been better left to my siblings. Especially Caleb, back when he'd been around. It was time for me to take a leaf out of their book.

I just had to find the right room in the library first.

Third floor, room seventeen: that was what the Facebook event specified, but after ten minutes of trailing up and down the aisles, I was starting to doubt whether it even existed. Putting up fake details for a volunteer group session didn't seem like a likely practical joke, and yet unless I was being seriously stupid...

"Are you looking for the meeting?"

Reaching the end of the aisle for the third time, the voice came out of nowhere. My head turned, and there she was: a tall-ish girl, olive-skinned, with a stylish black bob that curled under her chin. She was wearing a green polo with a book-shaped logo stitched across the left breast. Standing with one hand on the corner of the wall, she looked at me questioningly.

"The volunteer group?" she clarified, when I didn't say anything. "Leaders in Literacy?"

"Yeah."

"It's through here." She cocked her head behind her. "Sorry. The room's kind of hard to find."

"Oh," I said. "Thanks."

I followed as she rounded the corner, where another couple of meeting rooms were tucked away out of sight. The door to one was propped open with a chair, and I could hear the muted bustle of activity inside. "They really should put a sign up," she said, gesturing toward it. "This is us."

She stepped back to let me through. "I'm Cat, by the way."

"Morgan," I said. "Nice to meet you."

"Freshman?" She gave me the once over, making an assessment, but it didn't come across as intimidating. More like she was curious.

"Uh, yeah."

"Thought you were a new face," she said, nodding. "And new faces are always welcome here. The more, the merrier. Head on in—you can take a seat wherever."

I smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

The meeting wasn't due to start for another five minutes, but the room was fairly busy already. It was one of the larger study rooms in the library that students could rent out, and the furniture had been rearranged for the occasion: tables had been pushed back toward the edges of the room, while five rows of chairs were set out to face the front. With Cat's instruction echoing in my ears, I headed for the second-last row and settled down alone.

The seat beside me felt weirdly empty, even though I knew this wasn't Hanna's kind of thing. I'd gotten way too used to having her here for support. Deep down, I knew I couldn't cling onto my best friend forever—but she also had a way of making the world seem less intimidating that made it difficult to let go.

Today, though, I was here for myself.

When I first stumbled across the post on the freshman Facebook group, I scrolled past like I would've for cheerleading tryouts or six a.m. spin classes. But then something made me go back up. Mom's advice, I guess—or perhaps just my own grudging acknowledgement that it would be good for me. And the literary volunteer group seemed like a great match.

At the very least, I could go to the introductory meeting.

That was what college was about, wasn't it? Trying new things.

"Alright, guys. Looks like most people are here, so I think we'll get started."

The second voice also came out of nowhere. But this time I recognized it right away, even if I couldn't count its owner as a friend or even an acquaintance. It was like something switched on in my brain—and where before I'd been absentmindedly watching Cat direct the latecomers through the door, my now razor-sharp focus was on one thing only.

Josh clapped his hands together as he stepped into place at the front of the room. Just like that, he'd captured everybody's attention, like he wasn't gripping mine already.

"Let me start by introducing myself," he said coolly, confidently. You'd never have guessed there were thirty pairs of eyes on him. "Josh Kelley, head of student volunteering at Leaders in Literacy: the only organization on campus working to improve literacy and build a love of words in disadvantaged children across the community."

His eyes swept over the heads of the group. Moving swiftly at first, with all the composure of an experienced public speaker. Until he noticed me.

Caught my eye like a hook. The flicker of recognition rattled him for a second. Then, he recovered.

"What an amazing turnout today," he went on. "Really, it's heartwarming to see so many people keen to get involved with such a worthwhile cause. Especially with all the new faces in the room. Let me just say, to you guys in particular: thanks for giving us your time this evening. Over the next hour, I'll be taking you through what we're all about and what we've got planned for the new school year, and I hope you leave tonight feeling inspired to get involved."

I couldn't be sure, but in that moment, he seemed to catch my eye.

"And if you do," he said, "I can't wait to have you on board."

***

His talk was really good.

So good, in fact, that I forgot this was the same guy who'd caught me sobbing on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, and that I was supposed to be embarrassed about facing him again.

He spoke with so much enthusiasm and passion that it was impossible not to feel it too. You could just tell that he cared—and cared with his whole heart. It wasn't even a particularly preachy talk. No arrogant monologues about the incredible impact they'd made, or do-gooder-Facebook-profile-picture photography. There were a few figures to contextualize the money they'd raised and the books they'd donated last year, but it mostly focused on the group's plans for the next few months. All underlined by a quiet determination to do even better.

The talk lasted for an hour, and then Cat and a couple of others came in with drinks and nibbles and sign-up sheets, instructing everyone to take the time to ponder, ask questions and 'mingle'. Of course, that was the moment my stomach dropped. Then it all came flooding back: how much easier this would've been if Hanna was here. Sitting and listening to someone else talk was one thing, but venturing into the crowd and finding my voice was a whole other.

That's the point, I told myself. Out of your comfort zone, remember? It's small talk, not rocket science.

The group started to spread out; the noise in the room steadily increased as Josh's lone voice turned into multiple conversations. Since I didn't feel ready to strike up an out-of-the-blue conversation with a stranger, I figured my best bet was to head for the snack table. If nothing else, it would stop me looking so awkward.

"Hey."

I was pouring myself a cup of soda when I heard the voice, and I looked up to see Cat appear behind the table. "Oh," I said. "Hey."

"Morgan, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Nailed it." She smiled. "I know you only told me your name literally an hour ago, but with the number I've had to remember tonight, that one has stuck is a major achievement. So, what'd you think?"

"Of the talk?"

"Yeah." She waved a sheet at me. "Are you going to sign up?"

Earlier this evening, I'd been steeling myself for this kind of pressure: telling myself that going along to an introductory talk wasn't a commitment to anything, and I could back out at any point without feeling guilty. I thought I would be teetering on the brink of a decision. But somewhere in the middle of Josh's talk, my mind had changed without me realizing, and I was surprised to find I didn't hesitate at all.

"Yeah," I told her. "I am."

"That's great!" Her face brightened; her enthusiasm kind of caught me off guard. "I know Josh said it all up there, but it really is a great cause. Some people don't see it—I guess because we're not solving world hunger or anything—but the small things can make such a huge difference. You wanna know what made me realize it?"

"What?"

"It was toward the end of last year," she said, her expression spirited. "We delivered this truck-load of books to the library of a school that hadn't had any real funding for years. Arrived as a surprise, and started carrying all these boxes inside—and I swear, I'll never forget the look on the librarian's face when she saw what we were doing. She looked like she was about to start crying. It was just a bunch of second-hand books, you know, that otherwise would've been lying unread on people's shelves, but it was like she'd just won the lottery. And, God, that was when it hit home. I just wanted to make someone feel like that over and over again."

"Wow," I said. "That's amazing."

"It's why I'm still here," she said. "Carrying plastic cups and two-liter bottles of soda so I can convince more people to get involved and make more of those moments happen. If you sign the sheet, you'll be making my day."

"Well. I can't say no to that."

She smiled again, revealing a tiny gap between her two front teeth, as she slid the sign-up sheet toward me. "You're a star. Now let's make it official."

I picked up the pen and started to write my name, but I only got a few letters in before a presence beside me caused me to jerk in surprise.

"What are we making official?"

I turned my head, and there he was: closer than I'd be able to ready myself for. Close enough to notice the waves in his sandy-brown hair, the depth of his dark eyes, the hint of a single tattoo poking out from underneath the sleeve of his uniform green polo. In the artificial lighting of the room, he almost felt like a different person to the one in the driver's seat of the Chevy.

This one made me more nervous.

Cat rolled her eyes. "Don't try and take credit for this one, Josh. It's on me. Once there's a signature on that sheet of paper, this will be our newest member, Morgan."

Josh's gaze shifted from Cat to me, lingering for what felt like an eternity. Then, he said, "I know."

"What do you mean, you know?"

"We've met," he said, not taking his eyes off me. "The other night."

Cat was looking between us, her air of suspicion palpable. For some reason, it made me feel like I needed to explain myself. "I got lost on my way home," I said. "He was nice enough to give me a ride back to my dorm."

Her expression didn't waver, but eventually her eyes settled. "Right."

"See?" Josh said, a mischievous smile blooming on his face. "I'm a nice guy, Cat. It's what I keep telling you."

A flicker of uncertainty came to life in my chest as I stood between them, unsure what to say. I couldn't put my finger on their dynamic. Cat's expression was cryptic; she was definitely thinking about more than she was letting on. Was she assuming it had been more than just a ride home, and now the two of us were conspiring to act like it never happened? Part of me wanted to say something, to extinguish that suspicion for good—but I knew it wasn't possible without making things look worse.

Her gaze stayed fixed on Josh, the hint of her own smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "Yeah," she said eventually. "So you do."

If she was going to say something else, she didn't get the chance. From across the room, someone was calling her name.

"Cat! Do we have any more plastic cups?"

"Yeah, downstairs!" she called back, glancing over her shoulder. "Actually, give me a sec—I'll go grab them."

"Duty calls," Josh said jokingly.

"Shut up," she told him, but there was a smile on her face as she rolled her eyes for a second time. "Don't let him convince you he's some kind of big boss around here, Morgan. He does the grunt work, too—even if his ego suggests otherwise."

"Oh, Cat. You're too kind."

"Catch you later," she said, to both of us. And then she was gone.

Leaving me and Josh alone.

Unsure of what to do, I turned my attention back to the sign-up sheet, feigning interest in the few letters of my name I'd managed to scrawl before being interrupted. But I didn't need eyes in the side of my head to know that Josh was still looking at me. Drawing out the silence for as long as I could bear it.

"Great job on the talk, by the way," I said, after a few seconds. "It was really good."

He perked up. "You liked it?"

"Yeah. It was really interesting."

The way he seemed to take my compliment to heart surprised me. I figured he'd heard it dozens of times tonight; despite my lack of talent for small talk, I knew a good conversation opener when I saw one. But he also came across so confident—and not just by the standards of Cat's earlier quip. The other night, he'd been so smooth that our conversation was like calm waters after a tumultuous storm. I couldn't imagine my approval meaning that much to him.

"Thanks," he said. "That's really nice of you to say."

"Why do you seem so surprised?"

"Do I?"

"Yeah," I said. "Don't get me wrong—I didn't have you pinned as big-headed, or anything. But you know, you just seemed so confident up there. I figured you knew you were doing a good job."

He gave me a look, expression unreadable, before shrugging. "It's always nice to hear it."

"Also because you don't hear it from Cat?"

I was half serious, but his bark of laughter pushed us firmly back into joke territory, and I smiled along with him. "Cat? She'd rather walk a mile over broken glass than pay me a compliment," he said. "But she does keep me grounded. Nothing like being constantly told what a dickwad you are to stop the ego over-inflating."

My curiosity was getting the better of me. "So you two are just friends, or...?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Josh's eyes—perhaps at the fact that I'd dared to ask—but he didn't comment. "Is it really that obvious?" he asked, with a chuckle. "We did date for a while last year, but, God, it feels like a lifetime ago. And it wasn't really ever anything serious. Definitely no traumatic breakup or weird tension; we just decided to go our separate ways. Which explains why we can still stand working together—even if she can't resist putting me in my place now and again."

"Oh," I said. "I see."

"Nothing weird there at all." Another smile, even though the first one hadn't really left his face. "Trust me."

In that moment, I did—because what reason did I have otherwise? What I knew about Josh then raised no alarm bells. He'd stopped to help me in the middle of the night and given me a ride home: nice guy. He donated books to libraries and helped kids get into reading: even nicer guy. And at least one of his recent relationships had ended on good terms, instead of sudden ghosting or retaliatory social-media blocks: practically unheard of.

Maybe I was naïve for taking what he said at face value. Maybe I'd yet to kick the habit of seeing the best in people, and waiting like a sitting duck for them to prove me wrong. But when I look back, I still don't know what I could've done differently.

Evennow, if he somehow showed up with that heart-stopping smile and devil-may-careattitude, I can't say for certain I wouldn't trust him all over again.

-----------------

This one's a longer chapter than usual, so I hope you enjoyed! I know you probably hear it a lot, but there are a LOT of silent readers on this story, and the best part about posting on Wattpad is hearing your thoughts. Plus, I'm making an effort to reply to all comments, so let's chat below :)

Let me ask this, because I'm genuinely curious: what is your opinion on Josh so far? Like him? Dislike him? Trust him? Don't trust him?

It would really help to shape the story to know...

- Leigh