chapter 1

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                        Sophia

The 73rd Attempt to Be Friends with Mattia Gallenttini

I’ve tried seventy-two times. This is the seventy-third. And still—nothing.

I sent him a gift, just like the others, hoping this time would be different. I even followed him on Instagram. But, as always, he ignored me. Completely.

I know what people say about him—careless, arrogant, a player. But I see more. There’s got to be more.

He’s my neighbor, after all. I’ve seen him up close, watched him through my window as girls come and go. Every. Single. Day. New faces, new smiles.

But... there’s that one moment. The moment he saved me. I remember it like it was yesterday—those guys who tried to touch me. He showed up, and he didn’t just walk away.

He’s twenty, but he looks older. Taller than anyone around, more muscular. His presence fills the space before he even speaks. And, damn, he’s hot.

But I don’t want him like that. I just want to be friends. Or maybe something more? No, no, friends. Definitely.

“Soph, you’re still in bed?” My mom’s voice jolts me from my thoughts. “It’s 11 AM! You’ve got college.”

“Just five more minutes, Mom!” I shout back, knowing she’s not buying it.

“Five minutes? Really?” The frustration is clear in her voice.

“Maybe five... I hope,” I say, leaping out of bed. I pull on my favorite baggy black pants and an oversized gray shirt. A quick glance in the mirror, and I run a brush through my hair.

“Sophia!” Mom calls again, louder this time.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I rush downstairs, catching her angry glare.

“Oh my God, who is this sexy lady in my kitchen?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

She rolls her eyes. “Stop flirting with me and take my car. You’re late.”

“Want me to bring you something? Drugs? A pack of smokes?” I laugh, but she’s not amused.

“Just. Go.”

I grab the keys and head out. As I slide into the driver’s seat, I spot Mattia. Black motorcycle, leather jacket, that effortless cool vibe he always has. He doesn’t even glance my way. Not that I expected him to.

My phone buzzes—Mom again. “Still here? Seriously, Soph, it’s 11:40. You planning on arriving at 3 or something?”

"MOM! I'm leaving!" I snap, revving the engine and pulling out of the driveway, off to endure another day of awful college life.

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