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Summary
“This is so dumb,” Zoey says. And then, just because she needs to say it out loud: “I hate this. I hate chord progression, and I hate professor Han. God, I wish I went into something easier一like rocket science!”
“You said professor Han was nice,” Bobby points out, ignoring the rest of her rambling.
“Yeah, that was before the semester started.” And before she saw his rate my professor reviews. And before he assigned them a giant group project, and then stuck her in a group with Rumi, who just so happens to be so hot that Zoey can’t think straight when she’s around her.
Haha. Straight. Her brains laugh.
Shut the fuck up, she thinks back, furiously scribbling notes on her music sheet.
Or: Zoey is kind of in love with her best friend's mortal enemy. It gets a little complicated.