My Crush’s Setup Backfired / Chapter 2: The Call I Didn’t Want
My Crush’s Setup Backfired

My Crush’s Setup Backfired

Author: Grace Davis


Chapter 2: The Call I Didn’t Want

I stepped into the sticky summer night, neon humming overhead, karaoke reverb leaking into the alley. The humid air clung to my skin; cicadas rasped from the trees along Riverside Ave, and a food truck’s grill smoke drifted down the block toward the glowing Waffle House sign. I checked my phone compulsively. No messages. Of course. The party was rolling; whether I was there or not didn’t matter. Still, deep down, part of me wanted Natalie to notice I’d left—shoot me a text, ask where I’d gone. Pride said don’t be that guy; hope told me I’d sprint back if she did. Nothing. Not a peep.

Back at the dorm, I tossed my stuff onto the cinderblock shelf and hit the communal shower, letting the hot water try to scald off the bitter taste of the night. The RA on-duty sign glowed on the bulletin board in the hall when I came back. As I stepped into our room, the mini-fridge hummed and my phone buzzed—a call. I hadn’t saved her name, just digits, but I’d memorized her number long ago. I used to tell myself not saving it would help me detach. Yeah, right. I swiped.

“Hello?”

“Caleb, why’d you bail early?”

I glanced at the time—two hours since I’d left the party. She’d only just noticed? Figures.

“I had a paper due at midnight, so I dipped,” I said, aiming for casual.

“Oh, okay. Sorry about tonight’s mess. Anyway, Aubrey said you’re cute—she wants to get to know you. I told her to add you on IG, so don’t forget to accept. She can DM you.”

“I—”

She hung up before I could say anything else. The call ended screen stared back at me while my thumb hovered uselessly. A follow request popped up right on cue. Natalie, what am I to you? Just another friend you can shuffle around, toss at someone new? Heat rose behind my eyes. But who was I kidding? I wasn’t her boyfriend. She knew—she always knew—how I felt about her.

Derek stomped in, door banging the stopper, dropping his backpack by the door with a thud. Headphones hung around his neck; his keys clattered as he spun the ring, then checked his reflection in his phone like the room was a mirror. The hallway bulletin board rustled behind him as the door swung shut, and our mini-fridge clicked on again. Turns out, Natalie hadn’t noticed I’d bailed until everyone else was packing up. That made the ache in my chest sink deeper. I sat in front of my laptop, the cursor blinking, paper still unfinished, sophomore-year gen-ed reading open but going nowhere. Derek plopped down too close, his knee knocking mine, a little smirk tugging at his mouth.

“Dude, about Natalie kissing me tonight—you’re not mad, right?” he said, chuckling in that performative way that checks your eyes for a reaction.

“No.” My voice came out clipped.

“Guess that means Natalie’s not that into you. She picked me over you. You keep acting like you’re close with her, but I bet she hardly notices you,” he said, leaning into my space, breath hot, smirk lingering.

It hit hard. I’d always believed I was special to Natalie—years of history, all those little moments. But tonight made me doubt everything. I didn’t bother responding; I threw myself onto my bed and yanked the blanket up, wanting to disappear. Derek, never one to let things drop, spun his key ring again and bent closer.

“Did you know Natalie’s trying to set you up with Aubrey?”

My stomach dropped. I wanted to deny it. But that IG follow request from earlier proved he was right. This wasn’t the first time Natalie had tried to play matchmaker for me. I’d even told her once—if she tried again, I’d go for it. She’d laughed it off, like I’d never move on.

“If she really liked you, she’d never push you toward someone else. Open your eyes,” he said, voice like a knife.

Those words landed like a punch. My jaw locked. I turned to him, voice raw.

“Derek, has anyone ever told you—you’re a manipulative jerk?”

He blinked, stunned, the over-loud laugh finally dying. I yanked the curtain shut on my bunk, blocking him out and letting his muttering fade into muffled noise. As the room went quiet, my phone lit the dark under the curtain—an IG DM preview flashed across the screen.

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