After Jason guided me through the campus like some overly enthusiastic tour guide—though I won't say it wasn't charming—fatigue hit me like a freight train.
All I wanted was to collapse into bed and surrender to what I liked to call a "restorative beauty coma." Jason had things to do, so he wasn't around, and while a part of me savored the rare moment of stillness without his infuriating commentary, the silence felt... a little too quiet.
Still, I relished the solitude. Mostly.
I made a beeline for the bathroom, craving the clarity only a steaming shower could provide. The warmth cascaded over me, soothing the ache in my limbs. I lingered longer than necessary, half hoping that by the time I got out, I'd feel renewed. I didn't. But at least I was clean. I brushed my teeth meticulously afterward, as if erasing the day's fatigue from my molars. When I finally padded back to my room, I found myself inexplicably annoyed by my pajama set. It was too cute. Too pastel. Too... not tonight. So I slipped into an old oversized T-shirt instead—Jason's, actually. Not that I'd admit that to anyone.
A soft knock broke the silence.
Ugh. I really didn't want to move, but apparently, I had to. Jason was still MIA, and whoever this was clearly didn't get the memo that I was off-duty.
Dragging myself to the door, I opened it—and blinked at the radiant girl standing on the other side. She was effortlessly pretty, the kind of pretty that didn't need mascara or a filter. Warm brown eyes, glowing smile, the whole "girl-next-door with Disney princess charm" package.
"Oh! Kate!" I said, trying to sound more awake than I felt.
"Hey! I'm here to see Jason," she chirped with such delight I almost checked to see if a bouquet of roses would magically appear in her hands.
"Oh, um, actually—" I started, but of course, the universe intervened. Jason appeared behind me like some shirtless apparition conjured by her presence.
His face lit up at the sight of her. Beamed, even.
Perfect.
Before I could even process the exchange, she brushed past me and threw her arms around him. Just fabulous. Now they were cuddling. In my dorm. On my floor. In my reality. I stepped back, feeling like an unwelcome extra in their romantic reunion scene.
"I'll just… be in my room," I muttered, retreating like a defeated villain in a melodrama, though with slightly more dignity. Maybe.
Behind my closed door, the soft murmur of laughter filtered through the wall. Their laughter. I couldn't tell what they were saying, but I imagined it vividly anyway—inside jokes, flirty whispers, probably the occasional sigh as she gently touched his arm. God, why was I thinking like this?
Jealousy prickled, uninvited and irritating. I wasn't even sure where it came from. It wasn't like Jason was mine. We weren't... anything. Not really. But still, the image of her tucked against him on the couch, giggling at whatever dazzling nonsense he was surely saying, refused to leave me.
The silence eventually grew heavy. Too heavy. I stared up at the ceiling. What were they doing in there?
Before I could rationalize it, I was out of bed, padding silently down the hallway like some ridiculous sleuth in a rom-com. Standing in front of his door. Why was I even here? What, exactly, did I think I'd gain from this?
I leaned in. Just a little.
And then—"Are you eavesdropping?"
I jerked to my left. Someone was standing just beyond the dining area. I ignored them.
"Hold on a second," I whispered, trying to act like they weren't even there.
Then—again—"Are you attempting to listen in?"
The voice. His voice. Of course it was Jason.
His soft chuckle filled the space, warm and infuriating.
I froze, embarrassment washing over me like a cold shower.
With an exaggerated motion, I pretended to look at the floor. "I, uh—I think I dropped something."
Jason folded his arms across his bare chest—because naturally he was shirtless, and I couldn't not notice. "Oh? Are you sure about that?"
"Yes," I said, entirely unconvincingly.
"Seemed a lot like you were eavesdropping." His smile curled into that devilish smirk I hated. Mostly because I liked it.
"Your eyes must be deceiving you," I countered.
"If you're worried about Kate, she's gone. That is why you're creeping out here, right?"
I rolled my eyes with so much force I nearly gave myself a headache. "Did you think I'd actually care that much?"
"Oh, definitely." He stepped closer, casual and smug.
I instinctively stepped back.
He passed by me, sauntering into his room, laughing to himself. Smug bastard. Relief hit me like a wave—I wasn't sure what I thought was going to happen, but I was glad it didn't.
Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed, thoroughly mortified. What were you thinking, Marie? Honestly, how had I gone from beauty sleep to eavesdropping in the span of an hour?
A yawn escaped me. I was drained. Not even thirsty anymore. I imagined getting water, choking, ending up in the ER. Nope. Bed it was. I turned off the lights and slipped under the covers, reaching for my phone. A few missed calls from Mom. Some unread messages. I smiled. Her name alone felt like a hug.
Just as I tapped on the text thread, the screen lit up. She was calling.
"Hey, Mom," I answered, voice soft.
"Hey, darling," she replied, her voice instantly soothing. I could hear her smile.
"I miss you."
"I miss you too. Your dad's on a business trip."
Of course he was. The eternal mystery that was Dad's 'business.' Half my childhood was spent watching him vanish into the night while Mom brushed it off with vague excuses. I still didn't know what he did.
"Back to earth, honey. What's wrong?" Mom's voice broke through my spiral.
"Sorry, I—what did you say?"
But before she could answer, another knock tapped softly on the door.
"Mom, I'll call you back."
I ended the call, turned on the light, and dragged myself across the room toward the door—my limbs heavy, my thoughts heavier still.