3

Chapter

Three

Arilyn

We were here.

Riverside was slightly bigger than Green-Hill. The first thing I noticed when we stepped off the bus was the large initials 'R.U' engraved at the top of the building, framed by an intricate crest of a soaring eagle and crossed laurel branches. The university's emblem seemed almost regal, imposing in a way that reminded me this was a new beginning.

The car ride has been around one hour, but it felt longer. I had waited outside my house for Logan, hoping he'd come say goodbye. He never showed. I kept checking my phone, expecting at least a message, but nothing came. Eventually, I left without saying goodbye.

My dad wasn't home when I went to pack either. I shot him a quick text, telling him I was leaving, but like Logan, I didn't hear back. As I got in Olivia's car, it felt like I was leaving more than just Green-Hill behind.

Olivia and I were buzzing with excitement as we entered Riverside, our eyes wide with wonder. The hallways were bustling with students, and I felt a surge of energy, knowing this was the start of something new. We could hardly contain our enthusiasm as we navigated through the crowd, laughing and chatting about our fresh start.

Our first stop was the dean's office, where we would be sorted into our dorms. The air was filled with the faint scent of polished wood and fresh paint, giving the space a welcoming feel. After a few minutes of waiting, we were called in. The dean, a friendly woman with kind eyes, handed us our dorm assignments and a timetable filled with colorful blocks of classes. My heart raced as I scanned the sheet- I was supposed to be in my biology class right now, I had English Lit next, calculus and P.E last.

Classes had to wait.

When we finally made our way to our dorm after asking a few students to point us in the direction of the dorms building, I let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, Olivia and I were assigned to the same room. The small space was cozy, with two beds pushed against opposite walls and a window overlooking the bustling courtyard. We quickly unpacked, tossing clothes onto the beds as we squealed with delight, excited to share this experience together. As we settled in, I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me.

No more of my dad.

No more abuse.

No more pain.

"We should go to class?" Olivia asked, fixing her makeup.

I nodded. "We have biology right now."

"Let's go then," she took my hand, and I grabbed to bag then we went to find where our biology class was.

It didn't take us long to find it. Some students were nice enough to show us, some just scowled at us and acted like they didn't understand what we were saying.

As we approached the classroom door, my stomach twisted. I dreaded entering a class that was already in full session, bracing myself for the weird looks that would undoubtedly come our way. With a deep breath, I pushed the door open and we stepped inside.

Immediately, all eyes turned to us- like I predicted seconds ago. The chatter hushed as we stood at the entrance, scanning the room. The only seats available were in the middle of the classroom, surrounded by a cluster of curious faces. My cheeks flushed under the weight of their stares.

Olivia squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked toward our seats, the whispers and sideways glances following us like a wave. It felt as if I entered a spotlight, each step echoing my uncertainty as I made my way to the empty desks. The professor, an old woman with glasses perched on the edge of her nose, welcomed us with a nod, but it did little to ease the weight of scrutiny around me.

The professor continued with her lesson, droning on about concepts I had already mastered. I seized this moment to scan the classroom again. All unfamiliar faces looked back at me, some rolled their eyes, some were staring as if trying to figure me out or intimidate me. Some girls at the back were only smirking at me, painting their nails in class like they couldn't bother about their surroundings or if the teacher was watching them. She looked like she didn't care about those girls and I didn't need a genius to tell me that those girls were the ones I was to keep my distance from. The redhead raised a brow at me, then whispered something in her friend's ears and they both snickered.

Typical.

I rolled my eyes at both of them and turned my attention back to the teacher who was going on about something regarding bacteria.

"Let me guess—the high school bullies?" Olivia said, nodding toward the group of girls clustered at the back of the classroom. Their exaggerated laughter cut through the air like a blade. "Some things never change."

I was about to agree—maybe even launch into a story about how some people never outgrow their worst traits—but then it happened. Living, undeniable proof of her statement walked through the door.

Xander Hale.

He didn't just walk. He strode in with the kind of confidence that made it impossible not to look. He didn't bother glancing at the teacher, the chattering students, or anyone else in the room. No, Xander freaking Hale acted like the entire world existed on his terms. And maybe it did.

I felt my breath catch as my gaze followed him, tracing the path I already knew by heart. Of course, he made his way to the back of the room, dropping into a chair with practiced ease. His friend greeted him with a casual fist bump, and Xander met it without even looking up, his smirk sharp enough to cut. The girls who were no doubt talking about me earlier looked his way, greeting him.

But before he sat down, his gaze flickered to me—just for a moment. Dark, unreadable, piercing. The kind of look that held you in place, no matter how much you wanted to look away. And then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone, leaving me with the familiar knot in my chest I thought I'd outgrown.

"Holy god," Olivia muttered, leaning in slightly. "Who is that?"

I couldn't answer right away, not with my stomach twisting the way it was. It had been years since I'd last seen him, but the effect was the same. He'd changed, sure—he was taller, his jaw sharper, his presence even more commanding—but there was no mistaking him. Not for me.

"We grew up together," I said finally, my voice low. "We were friends—once."

"Friends, huh?" Olivia raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What happened?"

"He left," I replied simply, keeping my eyes on him. "One day, he just... disappeared. Moved to Riverside without saying goodbye."

And now, here he was, sitting in the same classroom, acting like he didn't even recognize me. Acting like none of it ever happened. Like we were never friends.

I hated how much it still bothered me. For years, I had tried to bury it but the ache lingered like a scar that refused to fade. Ever since Xander left Green Hill, part of me had felt hollow, broken in ways I didn't know how to fix.

Yes, I was heartbroken when he left without saying a word. He'd been my best friend, my safe space—and then he was gone. Just like that.

And then, as if the universe did not hate me enough, my mom died a week later.

I had never felt lonelier in my life. My dad barely seemed to grieve, throwing himself into the bottle instead. Day by day, he unraveled, drowning in alcohol and anger, and I became his outlet. His temper became my prison, and the abuse turned my home into a battlefield I couldn't escape.

My life was a living hell, and I blamed Xander for all of it.

If he had stayed, maybe things would've been different. Maybe I wouldn't have been so lost. Maybe I wouldn't have felt so abandoned. I hated him for leaving me behind, for walking away like I didn't matter. I hated him even more for not telling me he was going.

"You liked him, didn't you?" Olivia's voice pulled me back to the present. Her sharp eyes studied me, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.

"I did," I admitted quietly, my voice softer than I intended. I didn't dare say the rest. That I had loved him. Truly, deeply. Every teenage girl has that one crush—the one that consumes you, that feels like it could be everything.

Xander Hale had been mine.

But crushes don't leave you feeling like an important part of you had been ripped away.

Before Olivia could press further, the professor clapped her hands to get the class's attention. I sighed, burying myself in whatever was in front of me, trying to distract myself from him.

I didn't need to look at Xander to know he was there. I could feel him, the same way I always had. His presence carried a weight only I could sense.

And despite everything, part of me still wanted answers. Part of me still wanted to confront him and demand he explain why he left. Especially why he never came back.

But the bigger part of me wasn't ready for what he might say—or worse, what he wouldn't.

The teacher's sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts as she dismissed us. Students shuffled out of the classroom, their voices filling the room as they gathered their belongings, ready to get out. Olivia gave me a quick smile before slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"See you at lunch?" she asked, pausing at the door.

I nodded absently. "Yeah."

With yet another smile, she went off to her next class while I stayed behind, rooted to my seat, staring blankly at the notebook in front of me. The students were gone quickly, leaving only me in the classroom. Or at least, I thought I was the only one who remain seated until I felt someone's gaze on me.

I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

Xander hadn't left.

He was still seated at the back of the room, his posture lazy but his eyes fixed on me. My pulse was racing at this point and as much I wanted to ignore him and stand up to walk away to my next class, my legs refused to move. Instead, I met his gaze, my heart pounding in a way that made me angry.

Angry at him. Angry at myself.

"What?" I finally snapped, my voice harsher than I intended.

He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You've changed," he said, his voice low and calm, as if we were old friends catching up.

The audacity of it hit me like a slap. I've changed?

"Yeah, well," I said, gathering my things and standing up, "A lot happens when someone disappears without a word."

His smirk faded, replaced by something harder to read.

Regret?

Guilt?

It didn't matter. I didn't want to see it. I didn't care. Did I?

I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the door, my chest tightening with every step.

"You didn't text or call," he said, stopping me in my tracks.

I froze, gripping the strap of my bag so tightly my knuckles ached. Slowly, I turned to face him, my anger bubbling to the surface.

"I didn't text or call?" I repeated, my voice rising. "You left, Xander. You left without saying goodbye. And you expect me to be the one to reach out?"

For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression unreadable. Then he stood, taking a step closer, and suddenly the room felt much smaller.

"I didn't have a choice," he said quietly.

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning I didn't understand. But before I could ask, before I could press him for the truth, the professor walked in, looking at us with raised eyebrows.

"Class is over," she said pointedly.

Without another word, I turned and left, my heart pounding and my mind racing with questions I wasn't sure I wanted the answers to.