Florence didn’t like you. Really, she didn't. You had nothing in common with her, completely different friend groups. You weren't friends, either. Acquaintances maybe. The only reason she knew your name was because you'd been paired up for a project in English.

So why was she getting so worked up watching some other loser hit on you?

You probably didn't realize what was going on. Or did you? Did you like them? Ugh. She was going to be sick. Her freshly manicured finger rapidly tapped against the table as she watched you from across the Campus Center. Suddenly her spaghetti and garlic bread wasn't as appetizing.

"You good, babe?" Christian asked and she finally looked away from you. She hummed in response. Currently, Christian and her weren't dating. Maybe they'd get back together next week, she didn't know. They made sense. She was a cheerleader, he was a football player. To everyone around them, they were a perfect match. Right now, however, she wanted him go away. He was interrupting her while she glared daggers at whoever you were with.

No way you were dating anyone. She would've found out about that already. Unless you didn't post your partner on social media? Florence went through your Instagram constantly to make sure you were single. Had she missed something?

"I have to do something," she suddenly said. Christian looked confused, but he wasn't going to stop her. Such a pushover. It was annoying. Without saying goodbye, she started making her way over to you.

She was just being a good acquaintance. Yeah, that was it. The loser you were with was ugly, no way you were interested. And no way was she interested in you or jealous. Obviously. You were just as much of a loser, she simply liked you more. Because you were smart. Yes. Obviously.

"Hey," Florence said, stopping right in front of the table the random and you were sitting at. With a nod, she sat right down. "You can go. We have a project to work on."

She flashed the other person a nasty smile, reaching out to grasp your forearm.