We’re almost at the quad when Sophie appears from nowhere. “Calder, honey.” Her voice is saccharin sweet. She somehow nestles between me and Elowen and latches onto my arm. “I said we’d meet the others in town.”
I unfurl her fingers from around my arm, conscious of Elowen’s presence. “Why did you do that?” I try to keep my tone light, but it’s a fine line; one wobble either way could make this situation a whole lot more difficult than it needs to be.
“I thought…” She glares at Elowen and Tyler and rolls out her bottom lip. “Why are you being like this?”
“Sophie, we went on a coffee date.”
The pout slides easily into a smile. “You said you wanted to do it again.”
I replay the date in my head. Sophie clung to my arm all the way back to campus from town, holding a one-sided conversation with herself. When she realized I was only walking her back and had no intention of entering the residence halls, she made sure her friends were watching, stood on tiptoes, and kissed me on the lips. They didn’t even save their squeals of excitement until I’d walked away.
“I…”I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends? I’m not an asshole. Both are true, but I settle for, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ve got a lot going on this year.”
She steps away, eyeing me up like I just grew horns. “Please tell me this has nothing to do with new girl.” Sophie doesn’t even look at her.
“My name is Elowen.” She stands her ground and juts her chin. “And you can leave me out of this.”
“You are in this though,El-o-wen.” Sophie enunciates each syllable with an unpleasant drawl. “I saw the way you?—”
“I think we’re done here.” I cut her off before she can say something we all regret. “And I don’t think I need a reason to say no to a second date.”
6
ELOWEN
Outside,late September is painting the campus in golds and ambers. The trees haven’t fully turned yet, but the promise is there in the cooler mornings, the earlier darkness, the quality of light that’s distinctly autumn.
In the Academy, something has shifted.
I feel it before I see it: an undercurrent in the air, subtle but persistent. The building hums the way it always does, but the rhythm is off.
I notice it first in my morning class.
The seminar room is half-full when I arrive, students scattered across the rows in their usual clusters. I take my seat at the side, the same spot I've claimed since the term began. But today, when I settle in, the beta beside me glances over. Her name is Lauren. We nod in passing, attend some lectures together, but haven’t progressed to making conversation.
Until now.
"You're working on the greenhouse, right?" she asks.
I pause, notebook halfway out of my bag. "Yes, I used to help my–"
"With Calder Ashford and Tyler Vale?"
"Yes." I don’t know where she is going with this.
But the professor arrives and she returns to her notes.
I try to do the same. But the awareness lingers, a gentle pressure I can't quite shake.I catch another student two rows up glancing back at me then looking away. I tell myself it’s nothing.
But by the time I reach the dining hall for lunch, the pattern is unmistakable.
Conversations pause a half-second too long when I pass. Glances linger, then slide away when I meet them. Not hostile. Just aware.
I take my tray to a quiet table near the window and sit, forcing myself to move at my usual pace. Rushing would feel like an apology, and I have nothing to apologize for.
Then Sophie slides onto the seat opposite me and rests her elbows on the table. “I know what you’re doing,” she says. “You think that because you’re fixing up the greenhouse, Calder will look at you.”
She tries to intimidate me by locking eyes and sitting up straight, giving herself the height advantage. But Grandma always said that bullies are cowards.
