Page 37 of Safe Place

“Are you deaf? Are lions hard of hearing?” She’s closer now, her tone sharper.

I finally glance up. “Hi, Ella.”

She tilts her head, fake sweet. “Sylvie, do you need clothes? I can ask around the sorority house for some donations if you want.”

My stomach knots. I’ve never really had anyone target me before—I usually stay invisible. And I most certainly am never a threat.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I say quietly.

She steps closer, her voice dropping so only I can hear. “Listen. Micah’s a nice guy. But don’t get any ideas that someone like Micah Vale is into someone who rotates the same three outfits.”

Her words hit harder than I want to admit, and for a second, I freeze. It’s true. Of course I know that. Micah would never be into someone like me.

“Why the fuck do you keep ignoring me?” she snaps, her voice rising. “Did you two already fuck? Is that it? You think you’re above me now or something?”

My heart pounds, and I stumble over my words. “What? No, we’re just⁠⁠—”

She cuts me off, eyes sharp and way too close. “Maybe Micah’s just bored of girls like Hailey and decided to try out the quiet, desperate type for once. But it won’t last. He’ll move on the second he gets bored.” Her gaze sweeps over me, slow and deliberate. “And trust me, babe—that’ll be sooner rather than later.”

Her words sting, and I hate that they affect me. My hands curl against the desk, and I fight to keep my expression neutral. I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

Before I can even think of something to say back to Ella, a voice cuts through the tension.

“Wow. Beautiful weather today,” Grant says, strolling into the lecture hall. His smile is wide and playful, and he’s wearing a bright green Westcliffe Lions hoodie—the exact one I’m wearing today.

Micah’s right behind him, and my stomach does a little flip. He’s wearing a black Westcliffe crewneck, sleeves pushed up casually. His gray eyes sweep over me immediately, then down to my hoodie, and one corner of his mouth lifts like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Good morning, Sophie,” Micah says, voice lower, smoother than usual as he moves to stand just a little too close to me. “Great taste, as always.”

Grant leans against the desk beside me, pretending to inspect my hoodie. “Well, this is awkward. I thought I was going to be the only one matching Lenny today, but look at Vale here. Guess we all have an excellent eye for fashion.”

Micah doesn’t even look at Grant. His attention stays on me, and I swear my pulse stumbles under the weight of it. “Guess we do,” he says, his gaze locking with mine for a beat longer than necessary.

Ella lets out a sharp, mocking laugh, tilting her head. “Wow. So that’s your strategy? Playing the pity card. Make him feel sorry enough for you and fuck you? Smart move, Sylvie. Guys like Micah love a charity case. Community service, if you will?”

Micah’s expression darkens so fast it almost startles me.

“That’s it,” he snaps, stepping closer, his voice like ice. “You need to shut your damn mouth, Ella. What, are you jealous? Because she’s better than you without even trying? And here’s the truth—you could pull every trick, go through every guy, manipulate whoever you want, and I still wouldn’t give you a second glance.”

The room goes quiet, a few people turning to stare. Ella looks like she’s about to argue, but then her eyes flick to Micah’s glare—and she folds, muttering something under her breath as she drops into her seat.

Grant, breaking the tension with a grin, slides in next to us. “Damn, Micah. Didn’t even need coffee this morning to wake us all up.”

Right on cue, Declan walks in, glancing at all of us, confused. “What the hell? Nobody told me there was a dress code! I have the same one as Micah’s in my closet!”

Grant smirks, clapping him on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. Invite-only.”

Micah finally looks back at me, his expression softening instantly when his eyes meet mine. His voice lowers, meant only for me. “Hey, you okay?”

I nod, my heart still pounding, and manage a quiet, “Yeap. Thanks.”

For a second, just one, I let myself feel it. The way he stepped in without hesitating. How his voice went cold on my behalf.

Then the projector flickers on, and I look back at my notes. I know better than to read into it. But for that one second—it felt real.

There’s no way Ella could be jealous of me, no matter what Micah thinks. She’s the kind of girl people stare at when she walks into a room—long blonde hair, tall and willowy, bright blue eyes, a face straight out of a magazine. Her body is perfect, and she knows it.

And she’s right. Someone like Micah, who’s so far out of my league, shouldn’t even know I exist. Maybe it’s just pity. The poor girl who works three jobs. The girl who keeps getting into situations where she needs saving. He just happened to be there when Ella and Carter were being awful, and of course he stepped in. Because he’s a good guy. That’s all it is. He feels bad for me.