Chapter 2: The Worst Lab Assignment

"Is it too late to regret this now?" I still couldn't accept it, water running through my hands, icy and biting.

The faucet sputtered as I tried to collect myself in the bathroom, my hands stinging from the cold. Regret hit hard, swirling with a mix of panic and embarrassment. The air smelled faintly of lemon hand soap and the cheap floral air freshener Camila insisted on buying.

"What do you think?" Julian Carter leaned against the wall, brushing dust off his jeans, giving me a half-smile that sent a chill down my spine.

He looked way too comfortable for someone who’d just been caught in the crossfire. That crooked grin was pure trouble, the same one he’d had since we were kids.

Seeing that smile, I instantly felt hopeless, because right now, he was definitely up to something.

The feeling was all too familiar—a sinking sensation that things were about to go sideways, and Julian would be at the center of it.

Just earlier, my professor assigned a grad student to guide me and my roommate through our experiments. What I didn't expect was that the senior was actually Julian Carter.

The moment his name was called, I’d almost choked on my coffee. All the worst-case scenarios flashed before my eyes. Of course, out of all the TAs, it had to be him.

Julian Carter, my childhood friend, two years older than me.

Everyone at school thought our connection was adorable, like something out of a Hallmark movie. If only they knew the chaos lurking beneath.

Most people think "childhood friends" is a sweet and beautiful thing, but for me and Julian, it was basically a recipe for disaster.

Our history was a long string of bickering, pranks, and getting each other grounded. Pretty much everything but romance.

We'd been at odds since we were kids.

Every holiday, every birthday party, every sleepover—Julian was there, usually annoying me or getting us both in trouble.

When I was four, I tattled to Julian's mom that he secretly borrowed my allowance to buy gifts for some girl.

He tried to bribe me with half a Twix bar, the caramel sticking to my teeth, but I was a snitch and proud of it. His mom grounded him, and he spent a week plotting his revenge.

Julian lost my favorite Barbie, so I got back at him by breaking his favorite Hot Wheels car.

The memory still makes me smile—the plasticky smell of his toy, his little face crumpling in shock, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. I felt guilty for a second, but he totally deserved it.

At six, Julian ranked first in the entire grade, and I was the unlucky one—my mom made me look at my godmother's son every day as an example.

Every time the report cards came out, it was the same thing: "Why can’t you be more like Julian?" Chalk dust hung in the classroom air at parent-teacher night, and I learned to dread those meetings.

At seven, Julian told my mom I secretly kissed another boy.

The rat! He’d caught me under the playground slide, holding hands with Tommy Pierce, and wasted no time tattling.

Not only did my mom lecture me for ages, but she also separated me from the cutest boy in class. I cried in my room for days.

I didn’t talk to Julian for a week. But honestly, he was the only one who tried to cheer me up, bringing me my favorite peanut butter crackers even though I refused to eat them.

But as it turned out, that boy soon kissed another girl.

The playground gossip spread fast. The new girl, Cindy, got all his attention the minute she transferred in. Typical.

Because of this, Julian teased me for a long time.

Every time I passed him in the hallway, he’d make fake kissing noises. The worst was at recess, when he got half the class in on it.

Now, falling into his hands, I had no idea how he'd mess with me.

Every time Julian had the upper hand, things got chaotic. My luck with him was the opposite of winning the lottery—but he always showed up, even when he drove me nuts.

To avoid this misery, I decided to beg.

A true hero knows when to yield. I, Autumn Lane, can take it or leave it!

I straightened my shoulders, channeling all the puppy-dog eyes I could muster. Even if it meant swallowing my pride, survival was key.

"Julian." I turned off the faucet, bit my lip, and tugged at his sleeve pitifully. "Be the bigger person and let me off the hook? Tell the professor to assign someone else to guide me?"

I even tried the pout my mom always used to get Dad to cave on shopping trips. Desperation looked good on me, I hoped.

Julian shot me a look, raising an eyebrow. "Autumn, am I really that bad?"

His voice had a teasing edge, but I caught the flicker of something genuine. He was waiting to see how I'd react, probably planning his next comeback.

Tsk, that's not what I meant.

But if that's what you think, I guess I'll just accept it.

I stood there, waiting for him to agree.

Just then, I heard a voice from the bathroom—probably my roommate Camila Rivera coming out—so I let go and took a few steps back to keep some distance from Julian.

Camila saw Julian in the mirror, smiled, and greeted him. "Hey, Julian."

She was always the cool one, unfazed by drama, adjusting her matte-black Warby Parker frames and giving a quick wave. I envied her calm in moments like this.

Julian nodded, leaning forward to leave, but before going he said, "Come to the lab at three tomorrow afternoon. I'll start guiding you on the experiments."

You.

That sentence was both a notice and a clear sign he had no intention of switching seniors for me.

He might as well have stamped a big red "No Refunds" sign on my forehead. The decision was final, and my fate was sealed.

So infuriating.

My fists clenched at my sides, itching to throw something—maybe a marshmallow at his head, maybe my dignity. Julian knew just how to push my buttons.

I wanted to punch and kick him.

But I settled for muttering under my breath, resisting the urge to hurl my shampoo bottle.

On the way back to the dorm, Camila finally couldn't hold back. She adjusted her glasses and asked, "Autumn, do you know Julian Carter?"

We walked side by side past Kendrick Hall toward the quad, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum in our building, her curiosity barely contained. I didn’t expect her to be so direct.

I didn't expect her to ask that, and blurted out in surprise.

My voice cracked, louder than intended, and I glanced over to see Camila smirking. She was sharper than she let on.

"When the professor introduced him, I saw surprise—and then despair—in your eyes," she explained.

She had the knack for noticing the tiniest details. Sometimes I wondered if she should major in psychology.

Wow, how did I never realize Camila had this superpower? She could read my mood so clearly.

It was both impressive and slightly unnerving. Note to self: never play poker with Camila.

"And," her eyes sparkled, like she'd discovered something huge, "I just noticed, your name and Julian's name together sound like 'autumn joy.'"

I blinked. How had I never noticed? It was the kind of matchy thing boomer parents love, like a Hallmark movie title or a Golden Girls bit. Camila looked ready to write a dissertation on it.

Amazing, truly amazing.

I couldn't help but give her a mental round of applause. Now I finally understood why Mariah called her Sherlock Holmes.

It was true. Camila missed nothing—no wonder Mariah joked about her detective skills.

All our friends who'd known us since childhood never noticed that.

Not once at a birthday party, not even during those endless family dinners where the grownups gossiped and the kids played video games.

Julian's mom and my mom had been close friends since middle school. They agreed to get even closer after marriage, so Julian's mom became my godmother, and my mom naturally became Julian's godmother.

The two of them were inseparable, always plotting ways to keep us together. My mom—Grace—and his mom—Lisa—liked to joke we were a packaged set. I grew up calling close family friends Auntie, so “Auntie Lisa” stuck hard.

I don't know if it was my mom or my godmother who insisted on tying my name to Julian's.

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was just wishful thinking. Either way, it made me roll my eyes.

The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got. My name, Autumn Lane, was made to match Julian Carter's.

I imagined them poring over baby name books together, giggling about their little "autumn joy." Did they ever think we might hate each other?

Why? Why? Why?

No joke—my mom absolutely just engineered this.

Every time I asked my mom, she always answered, "Autumn joy—that's our best blessing for you two, and we hope you'll get along well."

As if happiness could be engineered. Lately she’s softened her old no-dating rule, though—“as long as he’s a good guy,” she’d said—like that made this any less obvious.

Ugh, who wants to get along with him!

If only my mom knew half the things Julian had done over the years. Maybe she’d rethink her grand plan.

Meeting Julian Carter was just my bad luck!

At least that’s what I told myself. Destiny had a wicked sense of humor.

"I'm not close to him." Thinking of this, I replied angrily, "It's just that our moms are close."

I crossed my arms, trying to put as much distance between us as possible, even as Camila raised an eyebrow.

Julian's smile flashed through my mind, making me even more annoyed. "Don't mention Julian unless you have to. Just hearing his name annoys me."

My voice echoed in the hallway, dramatic and exasperated. Camila grinned, clearly enjoying the show.

Seeing how upset I was, Camila laughed even harder. "Are you sure you two aren't close?"

She poked me in the side, her laughter ringing down the corridor as she slung her sticker-covered tote over one shoulder. I groaned, but couldn't help smiling.