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Inside her room, she motioned for me to take a seat. She began pacing, her hands wringing together in a nervous gesture. "I can't sleep," she admitted. "We lied to Giuseppe, and it... it just doesn't sit right with me."
I nodded, understanding her unease. We had made a decision in the spur of the moment, under pressure, but now we had to live with the consequences. And they could be severe. If Giuseppe found out we deceived him, he might not trust us again.
We grappled with our options, considering the potential repercussions of our actions. After a lengthy discussion, we agreed to keep our secret for now for the safety of everyone involved. But the guilt was a bitter pill to swallow.
Before returning to her bed, Courtney turned to me, her eyes pleading. "Brad... please stay," she murmured.
"Of course, Court," I responded softly, agreeing to her request. I moved to close the bedroom door, catching a glimpse of Dylan heading into Jenna's room. A chuckle escaped my lips. College memories flooded back, but the circumstances were starkly different.
But as I settled in, the quiet camaraderie of the moment gave me an unexpected sense of peace. As I turned off the bedside lamp, I found Courtney pulling her nightshirt over her head, and we both snuggled up under the covers.
Chapter Nine
Courtney
Bundling up against the Wyoming wind, I couldn't help but shiver. Winter's arrival was evident in the crisp fall air, the leaves crunching beneath my boots. "Feels like winter's just about ready to kick the door in," I exclaimed, pulling my scarf tighter.
Brad chuckled, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me closer to share his warmth. "Guess we're not in San Diego anymore, huh?"
His remark brought a smile to my lips, even as it tugged at the ache in my heart. As if on cue, another gust billowed across the campus, carrying away the last remnants of summer. I shuddered, the realization of the change echoing the chill in my bones.
"Guess not," I replied, looking up at Brad's face. I could see my own apprehension mirrored in his gaze. I drew in a breath, ready to voice my fears, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a reminder that my design class started in an hour.
"Come on," Brad said, nudging me forward. "You've got a class to attend."
And so, we trudged on, my mind whirling with a thousand thoughts, none of them about the design principles I was supposed to be learning that day.
Brad met my gaze, his eyes filled with concern. "I think it's best if we find an apartment off-campus," Brad proposed as we walked side by side toward the lecture hall.
"Why?" I asked, even though I already had a hunch about his reasons.
It made sense, especially with the stakes so high, but the thought of more upheaval was disheartening. And yet, I knew he was right. "Fine," I conceded, my tone resigned. "You look for an apartment while I'm in class."
Brad squeezed my hand reassuringly, and despite the dread filling my gut, I managed a small smile.
"Good," Brad replied, pulling me into a quick hug. "I'll pick you up after your last class. Let's grab some breakfast before you have to go."
Our destination was the Campus Common. It was always teeming this time of day with early risers. I glanced at Brad as we got in line for food. He had a determined set to his jaw, his brows slightly furrowed. Seeing him like this, so committed and steadfast, made me feel a little better. And that was enough to quell my unease — at least for now.
I watched Brad as he devoured his scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast. The morning sunlight slanted in from the cafeteria windows, creating a warm glow that lit his face from one side. I found myself staring, not because of his looks but because of the worry etched into his handsome features.
"The thing is," he started, putting down his fork for a moment, "Dylan can't always be there for you. And... well, his interest in Jenna is obvious."
He had a point. Dylan, our newfound guardian angel, had made it clear that his heart had found a new interest—my roommate, Jenna. His attention could be divided in a crucial moment, and that thought scared me more than I'd like to admit.
"I know," I replied, pushing around a slice of apple on my plate, "I get it, Brad. You don't have to convince me. Let's try not to think about it for a little while, okay? We have enough on our plates."
Brad studied me for a moment before nodding, accepting my attempt to shift our conversation away from the dangers lurking in the shadows. He took my hand across the table, his thumb running soothing circles on my knuckles. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to savor the comfort in his touch, the familiarity of his presence.
As we parted ways, I couldn't help but carry his concerns with me into my design class. My favorite class, where I usually lost myself in line, form, and color principles, was not the same that day. Despite my best efforts, my focus strayed, floating in a sea of uncertainties.
Professor Kline, a middle-aged man with an unending passion for design, was saying something about the evolution of digital art. I heard bits and pieces of his words, punctuated by the heater's droning hum and the occasional paper shuffling.
"…with the emergence of AI, the line between human and machine creativity blurs…."
Then a whirl of colors filled the lecture hall as Professor Kline pulled up today's design lecture slides. But my focus was elsewhere. The half-eaten Danish from the Campus Common lay forgotten next to my sketchbook, its icing starting to crust. Brad's words echoed in my mind, his worry about my safety managing to overshadow my anticipation for the class I used to love.
"Remember, creativity is nothing without context," Kline's voice filtered through my thoughts. I looked up, catching a glimpse of a bright Bauhaus design on the projection screen before my gaze drifted to the notes app open on my phone. Nanc's work schedule stared back at me, a stark reminder of the issues that waited beyond this lecture hall.
