Ella POV:
"None of your business," I snapped at Dylan, trying to redirect the attention. "And if you have nothing better to do, I suggest you find soone else to bother."
Dylan chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Don’t bite my head off."
I turned to leave, hoping against hope that Jason wouldn’t say anything. That he’d just let walk away and pretend last night never happened.
But of course, because fate hates , he spoke up. "Ella."
His voice was softer than I expected, almost hesitant. I paused, my back still to them, before reluctantly turning around. "What?"
He studied for a mont, his gaze steady but not invasive. "Did you sleep okay?"
My stomach flipped. Damn it, Jason. Why did he have to say things like that? Why couldn’t he just go back to being the arrogant, insufferable jerk I knew how to deal with?
"I slept fine," I said curtly, tugging my hood lower. "Not that it’s any of your concern."
A small smile tugged at his lips, and for a mont, he looked almost... boyish. Like the Jason from last night, not the cocky rich kid I’d spent months trying to avoid.
"Good," he said simply.
Before I could process that—or the weird fluttering feeling in my chest—Max jumped in again. "Wait, wait, wait. What’s going on here? Did I miss sothing? Why is Jason asking about your sleep? I was suppose to ask that. My beautiful angel how was your night " His eyes lit up with excitent, like a dog catching the scent of drama.
"Awful " I said quickly, my voice a little too sharp. "And it’s none of your business anyway."
"You’re all insufferable," I muttered, turning on my heel and stalking off down the hallway. "Don’t follow ."
As I walked away, I could feel Jason’s gaze on my back, warm and steady, like a quiet promise.
And damn it, I hated how much I wanted to turn around.
It’s either I have the worst luck in the universe, or Fate is so cosmic an girl with a grudge. Today? A total rollercoaster of emotions, with way too many loops and no seatbelt.
After first class, I made it my mission to avoid you-know-who. At least until I could get my nerves back on track and feel like my usual, slightly less frazzled self. And where’s the perfect hiding spot? The library, obviously. Quiet, peaceful, Jason-free—perfect.
Or so I thought.
Because guess who found ? Nope, not Jason. That would’ve been too easy. It was Dylan.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t all bad at first. The librarian, who was in full-on dragon mode, was stalking around the aisles muttering her deadly "shush" on repeat. She was even reshelving books right next to my table, so I figured Dylan couldn’t bug too much with her breathing fire nearby. But oh, how I underestimated him.
He was carrying... wait, was he holding a novel? Dylan? A novel? I never would’ve pegged him as the reading type. But there he was, plopping down in the chair next to , flashing that grin of his—the kind that always ant trouble for .
He opened the book, leaned over, and pointed to a word on the page.
"Hey," it said.
Before I could roll my eyes, he pointed to the next few words.
"I. Need. To. Tell. You. Sothing."
Oh, great. This wasn’t going to end well. Not with that mischievous glint in his eyes.
I shot him a look and jabbed my finger at the next words on the page: "Maybe. Later."
Subtle enough, right? I wasn’t in the mood for boy drama—not today, not with Jason drama still hanging in the air. But Dylan wasn’t one to take a hint. He flipped to another page, this one with a bunch of words circled in red.
"I. Like. You."
Seriously?! Wasn’t Jason enough drama for one girl? Apparently, Fate thought I needed a double dose.
Dylan looked up at , eyes expectant, waiting for... what? A confession? A swoon? A full-on rom-com mont?
Thankfully, I didn’t have to say a thing, because boom! Enter the librarian, like an avenging angel of library justice.
"Did you write in a library book?" she barked at Dylan, her fury practically crackling in the air.
I hadn’t even seen her coming, but boy, was I grateful. She was livid, and Dylan had suddenly beco her favorite punching bag.
For once, Fate was on my side. Sort of.
Yeah, I know—it was a little bitchy of . But co on, you all know how much I hate attention.
So, while the librarian was busy declaring war on Dylan, and poor Dylan was flailing to defend himself, I did what any self-respecting avoidant queen would do: I quietly gathered my things and slipped out.
People were already starting to notice. Curious stares, whispering, a few bold ones inching closer like vultures circling the scene of a juicy scandal. Nope. Not for .
Call it self-preservation or just being over it, but I wasn’t about to stick around and let myself get dragged into that circus. Dylan would survive. Probably.
Thank God my next class was about to start—one tiny rcy in this day from hell. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the sa for Dylan.
With my hoodie pulled low and my mask snugly in place, I pushed through the swarm of students, slipping into class and sliding into a seat at the very back. All I could do now was pray—like, really pray—that Jason wouldn’t co and sit next to like he’d started doing lately.
But let’s be real. Ever since I set foot on this campus, life has had it out for . So, of course, the second Jason walked in, he dropped into the seat next to like it was his God-given right. Max plopped down in front of us, completing this little tableau of my personal nightmare.
Jason turned to with that casually intense gaze of his. "Have you seen Dylan?"
Before I could even figure out how to answer, Dylan strolled into the room. His eyes imdiately locked onto mine, and, like the coward I absolutely was, I darted my gaze away faster than a rabbit in a fox’s den.
Jason’s eyes flicked to Dylan, then back to , his brow furrowing like he was putting together a very ssy, very annoying puzzle.
Boy drama. Of course. Because what else could my day possibly need?
Dylan swaggered in like he owned the place and slid into the seat next to Max. But, of course, he couldn’t just leave it at that. No, he turned around to face , his grin as wide as ever and just as infuriating.
"Can’t believe you left to face the music solo," he said, his tone dripping with mock betrayal.
Oh, boy. Here we go. I could already feel the temperature in the room rising.
Before I could even muster a response, Max, being Max, jumped in. "Wait—you were with Dylan?" His voice carried just enough surprise to catch Jason’s attention.
My stomach dropped.
Jason’s gaze snapped to , then to Dylan, and then back to . I didn’t need a mirror to know his jaw was clenched tight. I could practically hear the gears grinding in his head as he pieced together so drama-fueled scenario that probably didn’t even exist.
Fantastic. Just fantastic.
I wanted to scream into the void or maybe sink through the floor and vanish entirely. Why couldn’t I catch a break? Seriously, Fate was probably lounging in her celestial beanbag chair, tossing popcorn into her mouth while watching my life implode like it was her favorite reality show.
"I an," Dylan added, clearly enjoying the chaos he’d unleashed, "I get it. You hate attention. But leaving there to deal with the librarian? Cold, Ella. Really cold." He shook his head, but his grin never wavered.
Max’s eyebrows shot up. "Wait—what librarian? What exactly were you two doing?"
Jason shifted in his seat, his silence sohow louder than all the other noise. He wasn’t saying a word, but his body language scread a thousand questions.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I muttered, barely above a whisper. My voice didn’t have its usual bite—it ca out more like soone who was just done with everything. Because I was.
Dylan chuckled, clearly amused, and leaned back in his chair like he had all the ti in the world to tease . "Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about."
Max turned to Jason, who still hadn’t spoken but looked like he was seconds away from exploding—or imploding. "This is getting interesting," Max said, clearly too entertained for his own good.
anwhile, I was ntally writing my resignation letter from this entire life. Dear Universe: I quit. Effective imdiately.
Just when I thought I couldn’t handle another second of this unfolding soap opera, the door swung open, and the lecturer walked in.
I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and silently thanked God for small rcies. Saved by academia—who would’ve thought?
The room imdiately quieted down as everyone shuffled to look busy, flipping open notebooks or pretending to care. Jason leaned back in his seat, his jaw still tight, but at least he wasn’t staring at anymore. Dylan turned around, thankfully leaving alone for now, though I could still feel his amused energy radiating from a few feet away.
It wasn’t much, but it was a reprieve. And I was clinging to it like a lifeboat in a sea of boy drama.
User Comments
0 comments from readers