Penelope's POV.
I was waiting outside the dorm for Felicity, popcorn in one hand and a juice box in the other—my idea of a serious talk kit.
When she finally arrived, she looked embarrassed and stressed, like the weight of the world was sitting on her shoulders. I opened the door, and we went inside.
"So," I said, sipping my juice box like it was fine champagne, "tell me—if you had to pick… Alex or Chris?"
Felicity nearly spat out her tea. "Excuse me?!"
"Don't act like I'm asking you to solve world peace. It's a simple question." I leaned back on the couch in the downstairs room, crossing my legs with exaggerated elegance. "Two boys. Both ridiculously obsessed with you. Both walking Greek statues. Who would you choose?"
Felicity groaned, burying her face in a pillow. "Penelope…"
"Yes, darling?"
"This is not a game."
"Oh, it's absolutely a game." I leaned closer, whispering dramatically. "And you, my dear, are the prize."
She peeked at me with a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "I'm not a prize."
"Fine," I corrected, waving my straw like a wand. "You're the heroine. They're the contestants. I'm the host. Welcome to Who Wants Felicity's Heart—the messiest reality show never aired on TV."
"Penelope!" she hissed, but her cheeks were pink. Bingo.
Before she could protest again, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, groaned, and bolted up. "Library run. I have to grab those books before class."
I smirked. "Books… or boys?"
"Books!" she snapped, already heading for the door.
I followed anyway, skipping along. Because obviously I wasn't about to miss the next episode.
The library doors creaked open, and Felicity stumbled out with a tower of books stacked so high she couldn't even see where she was going. Naturally, that was the exact moment the strap of her bag decided to give up on life and snap clean off her shoulder.
"Ugh—seriously?!" she groaned, wobbling like a penguin on roller skates, looking less like a college freshman and more like someone auditioning for World's Strongest Student. Perfect timing.
"Need a hand?" A voice asked smoothly.
Alex appeared like some golden retriever in human form, rescuing it to save two books from falling. He flashed that sunshine grin that could probably cure depression. "Here, let me carry these."
But before Felicity could answer, another hand darted in—snatching the top three books right out of Alex's arms.
"I've got it," Chris said firmly, his jaw tightening as his eyes locked on Alex.
Alex's smile didn't falter, but it definitely sharpened. "Really? Because last I checked, she hasn't asked for help yet."
Chris didn't blink. "I don't need to wait for her to say anything. I already know she prefers me carrying her books."
I gasped dramatically. Oh, we're doing this.
Felicity nearly dropped the rest of the stack. "Excuse me? Since when?!"
"Since forever," Chris said smoothly, striding ahead with half the pile like it weighed nothing.
Alex fell into step on her other side, flashing her a wink that made me choke on my juice. "Don't worry, Felicity. I won't let him bully you into choosing. You can always count on me."
Meanwhile, she was stuck between them, red as a tomato, juggling what was left of the books while students passing by were eating this up like free popcorn:
"Wait—are they both helping her?"
"Is this a love triangle in real life?!"
"Place your bets, people!"
I, of course, popped up beside them like a gremlin.
"Oooh, first challenge: Who Can Carry Felicity's Books Without Looking Like They Want to Murder Each Other. Five stars. Excellent entertainment."
Felicity groaned. "Kill me now."
By the time we escaped the library steps, she was ready to drop out of Oxford and join a monastery.
Unfortunately, Chris and Alex had other plans. But the show wasn't over. Oh no. Because then came the walk-home war.
"Obviously, I'll walk her back," Chris announced, still holding half my books, his voice brooking no argument.
Alex snorted. "You mean obviously I'll walk her back. She's not your responsibility, mate."
Chris's eyes narrowed. "She's safer with me."
"With you?" Alex laughed, all warm and mocking. "She's happier with me."
And just like that, they both grabbed Felicity's bag strap at the same time.
"Unbelievable," she muttered. "You two are ridiculous. Actually, I don't need either of you to walk me," she snapped, clutching her bag tighter. "I'm a grown woman. I have legs. Perfectly functional legs."
"Ridiculously in love with you," I sang under my breath, earning a death glare from her. Totally worth it.
Chris arched an eyebrow. "Functional? You tripped on flat ground last week."
Alex chuckled, low and warm. "Yeah, and don't forget the time you got lost trying to find the dining hall—"
"OKAY!" she cut in, cheeks blazing. "No need for my greatest hits!"
As they walked on either side of her, I had my phone out, commentating like it was the Oxford Olympics.
"Contestants: Chris, Mr. Dark-and-Broody, versus Alex, Mr. Sunshine-and-Smooth. Challenge: Escort the damsel to her dorm without combusting from sexual tension. Place your bets!"
"PENELOPE!" Felicity hissed.
But too late. Chris offered his arm like some Regency drama hero. "Shall we, Felicity?"
Before she could react, Alex slid in smoothly on the other side, grin devilish. "Or shall we, Felicity?"
Chris, brooding like Mr. Darcy. Alex, glowing like Prince Charming. And me? I strutted along behind them, sipping my juice box like it was movie popcorn.
Students trailed after us, whispering and giggling like this was a live K-drama. Some shouted, "Team Chris!" Others yelled, "Team Alex!" A few brave souls cried, "Shut up, she's clearly confused, give her space!"
At one point, Chris reached for her bag again, but Alex snatched it first, slinging it over his shoulder with a grin. "Got it."
Chris's jaw ticked. "Give it back."
"Make me."
The tension. The drama. The sheer secondhand embarrassment radiating off Felicity could have powered the entire campus.
Finally, she snapped. She stopped dead in the walkway, books in her arms. "Enough! Both of you. I can carry my own things. I can walk myself home. I don't need either of you fighting over me like I'm—like I'm some prize!"
The crowd gasped. Silence. Chris blinked. Alex froze. I sipped.
Then, softly, Chris said, "You're not a prize, Felicity. You're… everything."
Alex didn't miss a beat. "And you deserve someone who makes you laugh, not just brood. Someone like me."
Felicity's face turned scarlet. "I'm—going inside. Alone."
And with that, she stormed off, leaving both boys stunned in her wake.
Naturally, I grinned like the little chaos demon I was. "Welp," I announced, "episode one of Who Wants Felicity's Heart is officially a wrap! Tune in next week for—"
"PENELOPE!" she screamed from the door.
I bowed. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all semester."
And just like that, I found myself walking across campus with two ridiculously handsome guys—one holding my books, the other holding my pride hostage—while students cheered like it was a boxing match.
Chris leaned down, voice soft but teasing, just for her. "Careful. People might think you enjoy this."
Alex caught that and whispered in her other ear, "Or maybe she does."
Cue: me, combusting on the spot.