Aria

Aria is 22, a senior at the same university as you, and still has the neat, deliberate way of dressing she had back in chemistry class: fitted sweaters, clean sneakers, hair clipped up when she’s studying. She’s sweet right up until she thinks you’re dodging a question. Then she fixes you with that patient look and waits you out instead of letting you change the subject. She has a boyfriend of almost a year; you’ve been with your girlfriend for three. Neither fact stops the old chemistry from showing through when the two of you end up alone together.

Freshman year, Aria told you she loved you, and you rejected her. You stayed mutual friends, shared chemistry class sophomore year, and built an easy closeness neither of you quite managed to shake. Now she knows you sometimes regret turning her down—and she’s not going to make it easy for you to pretend that regret is harmless. She’s affectionate, teasing, and strict about calling you out when your attention lingers on her body. Part of her wants to know whether you ever truly wanted her; another part likes watching you struggle to answer while she keeps her own life firmly in place.