Page 50 of Written in Scent

Maybe Adrian is onto something after all.

Jamie’s grin turns downright mischievous. He nudges Adrian with his elbow, eyes sparkling with trouble only he can get away with.

“So,” he says, voice light and teasing, “the last time you and Elodie were alone in the library together, things got a little… heated. Should we be worried you two are going to accidentally start another spike tomorrow?”

Adrian’s cheeks flush the faintest shade of pink, but he laughs under his breath, shaking his head.

“Very funny,” he mutters. Then his expression turns thoughtful again. “Actually, I think Sophie might be the key here. Elodie’s roommate. Did you see how invested she was in pushing us to spend time together? She basically set up the study session for me right in front of Elodie. She kept jumping in, answering questions, encouraging the whole thing. I got the feeling she is very much on our side.”

I raise an eyebrow.

Adrian keeps going, that analytical mind of his already turning the situation into a strategy.

“She seems protective of Elodie but also genuinely excited about the idea of her spending time with us. If we can win Sophie over, she might be the one who helps Elodie see us as safe instead of overwhelming.”

Jamie is nodding along, his hope fully back in his eyes.

I stay quiet, but I feel the shift in all of us. One study session might not seem like much. But with Sophie in our corner?

It could be the beginning of something.

By that point Alex has finished with the team and comes walking over to join us. He’s still in his lacrosse gear, helmet tucked under one arm, hair messy and jersey dark with sweat. He carries that natural command in every step, the kind that makes the rest of us straighten without thinking.

We quickly catch him up on everything that just happened. Jamie fills him in on spotting Elodie at the railing, Adrian explains how he somehow landed a study session with her tomorrow in the library, and I grumble about how she took one look at me and ran. Again.

Alex listens carefully, nodding as the pieces come together. When we finish, a knowing smile spreads across his face.

“Well,” he says, voice low and steady, “we’ll need to make sure Adrian is properly prepared to treat Elodie like a queen during that study session. No half-measures. She deserves the full experience.”

He looks at Adrian with a raised eyebrow. “You hear me? Flowers, coffee, whatever she likes. Make her feel like the most important person in the room.”

Adrian straightens, a determined glint in his eyes. “I can do that.”

Jamie is already grinning again.

I just shake my head, but even I feel the shift in energy.

Alex has spoken.

And when our apex decides on a plan, the rest of us fall in line.

This study session just became a hell of a lot more important.

After the noise and chaos of the lacrosse scrimmage have faded, I let the evening take me to where I am most at home, and slip into the archives.

The building is barely populated on a Saturday evening, the long hallways empty except for the low hum of the air system. I let the heavy door close behind me and feel the familiar calm settle over my shoulders the moment I step inside.

My lab desk waits for me in the back corner, everything exactly where I left it. Several drawers of specimens are already waiting, neatly labeled and ready to be pinned and cataloged. I set my bag down, roll up the sleeves of my cardigan, and pull out my tools. The routine is automatic. Forceps, pinning board, labels, the click of the insect pins.

The emptiness of the lab is comforting, no footsteps or voices, just the gentle glow of the overhead lights and the faint cedar scent of the old wooden cabinets. I connect my phone to the small speaker on the corner of my desk and start a mellow playlist. The music fills the space, low and soothing. I find myself singing along under my breath as I work, the melody helping to calm the thoughts that refuse to behave.

For a while, it works. The careful motions of pinning, the precise placement of each label, the small satisfaction of another specimen properly preserved. But my mind keeps drifting to tomorrow. To the library. To Adrian.

My hand shakes. The tweezers slip and I almost tear the delicate wing of the moth I am working on. I drop the tool with a clatter and step back from the table, pressing both palms to the cool surface as I take a deep breath.

If Adrian were a beta, I could let myself be excited about tomorrow.

That’s what I’ve always wanted. A simple beta partner who wouldn’t pull me away from my studies. Someone easygoing and low maintenance, like the nice boy I dated in high school. We were never deeply attached. He fit neatly around my schedule, and that worked perfectly. I was hoping for the same thing here at Rosewood, maybe in sophomore year.