I paced the room while Noah tried on the last suit. My feet moved without meaning, a slow circle around the scattered ties and open boxes.He stood near the mirror, tugging gently at the dark jacket, adjusting the collar like it was choking him.He looked… perfect.Sharp suit. Fresh haircut. Clean lines. My heart ached just looking at him.But his eyes—those told a different story.Nervous. Stiff. Scared.“You okay?” I asked gently.He gave a short nod, jaw tight.I stepped closer, folding my arms. “It’s just dinner.”He looked at me in the mirror. “It’s dinner with your mother.”His voice was flat, but not cold. Just tired. Like he was already carrying too much and this was one more weight on his back.I didn’t blame him.“She’s not going to bite,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood.He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it. Then I moved behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back.“She doesn’t
Cameron’s presence hit me like a slap.For one terrible second, I couldn’t breathe.The blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything else.Then I was on my feet before I even knew it, my chair screeching loudly across the marble floor.“What the hell, Mom?!” I shouted, my voice sharp and broken at the same time.The room went deathly still.Noah reached for me quickly, his hand brushing my wrist, his voice low and urgent.“Elena... don’t. Calm down.”But I couldn’t.I shook him off hard, blinking against the hot sting behind my eyes. My chest heaved as I looked at my mother.She just sat there, unbothered, like the commotion in front of her was nothing more than a breeze.I pointed a trembling finger at her, my anger spilling out faster than I could control.“You planned this,” I hissed, my voice breaking. “You had an agenda when you invited us. You set us up.”A sick, bitter laugh threatened to climb up my throat, but I swallowed it back.My mother didn’t flinch.Didn’t blink.Di
Six months later...The wind in North Dakota had a bite to it, but the sky stretched wide and endless, like a soft blue promise.The air smelled fresh, a little wild—like new beginnings.I stood by the window of our small off-campus apartment, cradling a chipped mug of hot cocoa between my hands.The windows fogged slightly from the warmth, and outside, the trees shivered, shaking loose the last stubborn golden leaves.Behind me, I heard Noah moving around—the heavy thud of books hitting the floor, the low, sleepy curses as he dug through his bag.It made me smile.“Your Psych book’s on the table,” I called out without turning.There was a beat of silence.Then the familiar sound of his bare feet padding closer.The next thing I knew, his arms were sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him.“You’re magic, you know that?” he murmured into the curve of my neck, his voice low and rough from sleep.I laughed softly, leaning into him, feeling the solid weight of his chest agains
The roar of laughter erupted like a thunderclap in Blackwood Academy’s cafeteria, rippling through the air and bouncing off the marble floors. It was the kind of laughter that fed off humiliation, the kind that kept the hierarchy intact.I leaned back in my chair, lazily swirling the tip of my straw in my sparkling water, my expression a perfect mask of disinterest. But inside? I was waiting for it. The inevitable moment when Noah Carter would scramble to his feet, cheeks burning, head down—just another nobody who knew better than to challenge the order of things.But he didn’t.He just… sat there.Noah Carter—the school’s charity case, the lone scholarship kid in a sea of privilege—was sprawled out on the floor, his pathetic excuse of a lunch scattered around him like a crime scene. A sad little sandwich, an apple rolling aimlessly across the tiles.My lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk. Too easy. A well-placed foot, a barely-there trip, and gravity had taken care of the rest."
I slammed my fork into the porcelain plate, the sharp clatter slicing through the silence of the dining room."Elena, darling, must you make such a racket?" My mother’s voice, smooth as silk but just as sharp, cut through the morning air. "You’ll wake your father."I bit back a retort, knowing full well that my father was long gone, likely engrossed in some high-stakes deal to further solidify our family’s fortune. Instead, I stared at my plate, gripping my fork until my knuckles turned white. "I apologize, Mother. Just… not very hungry."She barely spared me a glance, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her silk dressing gown unwrinkled, her plate of meticulously arranged fruit untouched. "Nonsense. You need to keep your strength up. You have a charity dinner today, and you know how important it is to leave a good impression."I sighed, already dreading the afternoon’s forced smiles and hollow conversations.Then came the inevitable. "Speaking of outings, Cameron called yesterday. He’s
I slammed my textbook onto the scarred surface of the teacher's desk, the abrupt thud echoing in the nearly empty classroom. Mr. Harrison, a man whose patience rivaled the vast, flat landscape of North Dakota itself, looked up from his stack of papers, his brow furrowed with a weariness I knew I was adding to."I need a new partner," I stated, my voice tight with barely contained frustration.Mr. Harrison sighed, the kind of sigh that carried years of managing teenage egos. "Elena, I can’t change your partner.""But Mr. Harrison," I persisted, my fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the desk, "Noah and I are just not compatible. We can't work together.""Everyone can work together, Elena. It’s a group project, and cooperation is part of the learning experience." He set down his pen and gave me a look that bordered on amused patience."Besides," he added, his tone softening slightly, "Noah is a very bright student. I think you could learn a lot from him."I bristled at the impl
The day of our presentation came faster than I expected, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I was going to ruin it.Noah had put everything into this project, carrying the weight of our partnership, while I had contributed little more than glares and silence. And now, that effort would be my weapon of choice.The projector screen flickered in front of me, a distorted reflection of the presentation we—no, he had spent weeks perfecting. The class sat waiting, a sea of expectant faces. Mr. Harrison stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, and a faint, knowing smile played on his lips. He saw right through me; I was sure of it. But that didn’t matter. I just needed to make this believable.I cleared my throat, putting on a bright, overly cheerful smile."Okay, so," I began, my voice just a touch too high-pitched. "As you can see, our initial projections regarding social class were slightly... exaggerated."I trailed off, feigning confusion. The room was silent, save for the low
The air inside the country club felt stifling, thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and overpriced cologne. I pushed my lobster ravioli around my plate, barely tasting the creamy sauce that once would have been my favorite.The laughter, the clinking glasses, the effortless chatter of people who had never known real struggle—it used to feel like home. Now, it just grated.Across from me, Cameron reached for my hand, his tanned fingers curling around mine with the same easy confidence he carried in everything he did.Once, that touch had been comforting, like that was all I needed. Tonight, it felt like a weight, a heavy weight."Everything alright, Elena?" he asked, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He was concerned, genuinely so, and that only made the guilt of my thinking twist tighter in my stomach."I'm fine, Cam. Just tired," I said, pulling my hand away to swirl my fork through the mess of sauce and pasta on my plate.It was a lie, one I had been telling so often late
Six months later...The wind in North Dakota had a bite to it, but the sky stretched wide and endless, like a soft blue promise.The air smelled fresh, a little wild—like new beginnings.I stood by the window of our small off-campus apartment, cradling a chipped mug of hot cocoa between my hands.The windows fogged slightly from the warmth, and outside, the trees shivered, shaking loose the last stubborn golden leaves.Behind me, I heard Noah moving around—the heavy thud of books hitting the floor, the low, sleepy curses as he dug through his bag.It made me smile.“Your Psych book’s on the table,” I called out without turning.There was a beat of silence.Then the familiar sound of his bare feet padding closer.The next thing I knew, his arms were sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him.“You’re magic, you know that?” he murmured into the curve of my neck, his voice low and rough from sleep.I laughed softly, leaning into him, feeling the solid weight of his chest agains
Cameron’s presence hit me like a slap.For one terrible second, I couldn’t breathe.The blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything else.Then I was on my feet before I even knew it, my chair screeching loudly across the marble floor.“What the hell, Mom?!” I shouted, my voice sharp and broken at the same time.The room went deathly still.Noah reached for me quickly, his hand brushing my wrist, his voice low and urgent.“Elena... don’t. Calm down.”But I couldn’t.I shook him off hard, blinking against the hot sting behind my eyes. My chest heaved as I looked at my mother.She just sat there, unbothered, like the commotion in front of her was nothing more than a breeze.I pointed a trembling finger at her, my anger spilling out faster than I could control.“You planned this,” I hissed, my voice breaking. “You had an agenda when you invited us. You set us up.”A sick, bitter laugh threatened to climb up my throat, but I swallowed it back.My mother didn’t flinch.Didn’t blink.Di
I paced the room while Noah tried on the last suit. My feet moved without meaning, a slow circle around the scattered ties and open boxes.He stood near the mirror, tugging gently at the dark jacket, adjusting the collar like it was choking him.He looked… perfect.Sharp suit. Fresh haircut. Clean lines. My heart ached just looking at him.But his eyes—those told a different story.Nervous. Stiff. Scared.“You okay?” I asked gently.He gave a short nod, jaw tight.I stepped closer, folding my arms. “It’s just dinner.”He looked at me in the mirror. “It’s dinner with your mother.”His voice was flat, but not cold. Just tired. Like he was already carrying too much and this was one more weight on his back.I didn’t blame him.“She’s not going to bite,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood.He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it. Then I moved behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back.“She doesn’t
Noah froze the moment the words left my mouth.“My mother wants to meet you.” I said again.His mouth dropped open, his eyes wide like I’d just told him I was pregnant with triplets or something. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stood there, blinking like someone had knocked the air out of him.I couldn’t help it—I nearly laughed. The look on his face was priceless.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said, smiling gently.He blinked again, his brows pulling tight. “I just… why now?”His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t even talking to me, more like he was trying to solve a puzzle out loud.I could see it—the way his mind was spinning, trying to make sense of it. His fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to run them through his hair. His lips moved like he was still calculating something he couldn’t quite figure out.I stepped closer, my bare feet soft against the floor, and cupped his face in my hands. His skin was warm. Familiar. Mine.“It’s just dinner,” I whispered.The
I woke up to the chill of an empty bed.Noah was gone.The pillow beside me was cold, like he’d been up for hours.My chest felt heavy. A slow ache started to bloom there, right behind my ribs. I stretched beneath the blanket, trying to shake it off. But it didn’t help. I knew exactly why I felt like this.I had to tell him.About my mother. About the invitation to dinner. The one that had been sitting in my phone like a bomb I was too afraid to open.But I didn’t know how to say it. It felt… wrong. Strange. Like pulling him into a world he’d finally escaped. And yet, it mattered. Maybe not to him, but to me. Because things were starting to feel real between us, and if we were going to survive this—us—then I had to be honest.I sighed and pushed the covers off me. The floor was cold beneath my feet, the silence in the room louder than it should’ve been.I pulled on one of Noah’s sweatshirts hanging on the chair. It still smelled like him—woodsy and clean, like pine after rain.I padde
I woke before the sun.The sky outside was still dark, painted in shades of grey and blue. The kind of quiet only early morning knew.Elena was curled up beside me, her hand resting lightly on my chest, her breath warm against my shoulder. Her face was soft in sleep. Peaceful. Safe.For a moment, I didn’t move. Just watched her. I let myself feel the weight of her trust—how far we’d come, how close I’d almost lost her.But something inside me twisted. A heavy knot I couldn’t shake.Like I’d left something undone. Something important.I needed to close that door before I could fully stand in the one she had opened for me.I moved slowly, careful not to wake her. I slid out from beneath the blanket, freshened up, and got ready to leave.On a piece of scrap paper, I scribbled:Be back soon. Needed to close a door.I folded it and left it by her phone.I stood there for a moment, staring down at her sleeping form. My heart tugged, wanting to stay. Wanting to forget the past and just live
Noah sat quietly beside me, one arm resting on the window, the other curled around the bag of cookies on his lap. He'd eaten three already. I teased him about it earlier, and he just smirked like he always did and said, “Fuel.”I laughed. Really laughed. The kind that shook the quiet from my chest.But it didn’t last.My phone buzzed on my lap, and the screen lit up with one word that made my stomach twist.Mom.My laughter faded.The car didn’t feel so warm anymore.I stared at the screen until it stopped ringing, the silence that followed pressing heavy against my chest. I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just… froze.Noah didn’t say anything right away. He didn’t need to.He glanced at me—just once—and then kept his eyes on the road. Like he understood that whatever this was, it hurt.“I’m not ready to talk,” I said softly, the words barely making it past my lips.Noah reached over and placed his hand on mine.It was that kind of touch that didn’t demand anything. No questions. No pushin
The moment I stepped into the building, I knew I was in the right place.It smelled like fresh paint and old wood, like something new beginning inside something timeless. There was the faint scent of books too—paper and ink and glue—all of it weaving into the kind of comfort I didn’t expect to find.The walls were covered in past student projects. Sketches framed in gold, mood boards pinned with care, and models of rooms and houses displayed with pride. Like someone had once stood where I was standing and felt proud of what they made.For the first time in a long while, my chest didn’t feel tight. My fingers didn’t shake. My breath didn’t catch.I felt like I belonged here.I took another step forward.The registration desk sat just ahead, where a few students were already gathered. Their voices hummed low, full of curiosity and nerves. I walked up slowly, unsure, but trying not to look like it.A girl turned toward me. She had dark curls and soft eyes and offered a small, kind smile.
3 WEEKS LATERI woke slowly, the soft morning light slipping in through the curtains, painting the room with a gentle glow.For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was. But then, I felt it—the warmth beside me. Noah’s body, solid and real, pressed close to mine. His arm was draped over me, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back.The scent of cinnamon and fresh coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the warmth of his skin. It was peaceful here, in a way I wasn’t used to. I wasn’t used to waking up in a house that felt so... normal.Stretching slowly, I blinked the sleep out of my eyes. The events of the night before were still fresh in my mind.The way Noah’s touch had made me feel—safe, wanted, like I was finally starting to fit somewhere, even if just for this moment. I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. I hadn’t felt like I belonged.Noah stirred beside me, and I turned to find him already watching me, his