Undeclared by Jen Frederick Page A

everything for me, down the four flights of stairs, across the street, and into the front reception room of the house. The girls fluttered around him like butterflies trying to alight on the same flower. He didn’t talk or flirt or even acknowledge them. He set down my things and then hooked his hand around my neck again, turning me so I was looking directly at him.
    “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.
    I only nodded my response.
    It took longer to fend off questions about Noah than it did to pick out a picture. The consensus of the rush committee was to use the image that had them circled around the Alpha Phi sign on the front lawn. It was one of my least favorites, but with a little processing, I could make it acceptable even for me. I ended up eating dinner at the sorority house, so I had little time to get ready for my date with Mike. And Noah. And whomever Noah was bringing.
    ***
    “What’s showing?” I asked Mike when I met up with him at the library.
    “Some movie with subtitles. I never thought Noah Jackson would be into this sort of thing. Who do you think he’s dating?” Flip went his hair.
    “Dunno,” I mumbled. This thought had tormented me all afternoon, and by dinnertime I had stoked my anxiety into anger. Mike seemed nervous, and maybe if we were on a real date, I would be nervous too. Instead, I was kind of angry, and anger burned away nervousness and made me feel stupidly brave. Anger: the sober student’s high.
    I broached the Sarah subject with Mike, figuring this might be the only time I’d have alone with him before the movie started. “We should’ve invited Sarah.”
    “Why?” Mike asked, this time pushing his hair back with his hand.
    “Because she’s a cool girl, and I think she’d have liked this movie.”
    “Really? I got the impression she didn’t like movies,” Mike said.
    “How so?”
    He shrugged, shoving both hands in his pockets. “I asked her to a few, and she always had excuses not to go. Maybe she just didn’t want to go with me.”
    Good lord. Was it possible that Sarah’s unrequited feelings were actually returned, but through a series of miscommunications, Sarah and Mike each thought the other didn’t return their feelings? It was like a classic romance novel, where I could play the adorable Cupid matchmaker, doing something productive for once. In the book, however, I’d have tangled red curls. I always loved the heroines with red hair—and so did their male counterparts. Before I could ask any questions, though, we arrived at the theater.
    Noah was already standing there, and Bo was standing right next to him. There were three theater students, all beautiful, talking to both of them. One of them had tangled red hair. The universe hated me. Was this like a multiple couple thing, a sextuplet? An orgy of moviegoers? Noah broke away from the group when he saw us arrive.
    “Which one’s your date?” I asked, bracing myself. Please don’t let it be the cute redhead, I prayed.
    “Bo’s my date,” Noah smiled, turned and gestured for Bo to extricate himself from the others.
    “You two are dating?” Mike asked, mouth agape. Apparently, to Mike, Noah Jackson liking movies with subtitles was less astonishing than Noah liking men. I could only sigh in relief that I wasn’t in competition with some gorgeous romance book heroine with red hair.
    “Nope, just needed some bro time,” Noah said, and he turned and bumped fists with Bo.
    “Bro time at a foreign, subtitled film?” I asked, skepticism heavy in my tone.
    “Sure. Aren’t we here to be better educated?” This was from Bo. He handed out tickets to Mike and me.
    I stared at Bo and Noah’s smiling faces when the reality of the situation struck me. Noah hadn’t brought a date. He’d brought his best friend and battle buddy. Most importantly, he had brought a guy. I felt guilty at all the angry thoughts I had directed at him earlier while having dinner with the Alpha Phis. I felt even worse having