The next few days were a blur of quiet, obsessive work. I stayed buried in the art wing, nursing my projects as if they were the only things keeping me tethered to the world. With senior year looming, the "real world" felt less like a promise and more like a threat. I wanted to make a name for myself, to build a life so loud and vibrant that the cold shadows of my parents could never reach it. Somewhere deep down, I still nursed the impossible hope that they might be proud of me,just once. It was a childish wish, the kind that never dies no matter how many times you bury it.
Professor Hugh was out for the week, which meant Psychology was canceled. It was a mercy for my nerves; I didn't have to worry about "accidentally" running into Liam in the lecture hall. Surprisingly, my phone had stayed silent since the night he sent the photo of the steak. I wasn't sure what to make of the sudden void, but I tried to convince myself I preferred the peace.
By Friday afternoon, Charlie and I were tucked away on the library's back steps. The early April sun was a rare gift, and we were determined to soak in every drop of it. I was munching on an apple, trying to focus on a textbook, while Charlie was in a full-throttle gossip mood.
"You know the 'Elite Circle,' right?" she said, nudging me. "Edd says he's practically being initiated. He's been hanging around the guys more often. He really admires Liam, despite the reputation apparently, the guy is just on another level when it comes to the game."
I paused mid-chew at the mention of his name. My heart did a traitorous little skip, but I kept my eyes on the page, hoping Charlie wouldn't notice the sudden stillness in my posture.
"There's a game tonight," she continued, her tone shifting into her 'persuasion' voice. "Edd isn't starting, but he's on the bench, and he managed to snag us prime seats. Come on, Eve. You're an introvert, not a hermit. Let's go?"
I looked at her, weighing the mountain of work on my desk against the look of genuine hope on her face. Charlie had plenty of other friends, but she always made sure I wasn't left behind. I appreciated her more than she probably guessed.
"Let me see if I can manage it," I said, which we both knew was a "yes."
"Perfect! You promised!" she chirped, grinning like a cat that had caught a canary.
We spent the rest of the evening at my apartment freshening up. I kept it simple: baggy jeans and a oversized jacket Stormy had lent me since she was headed to the same event. I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror and winced, my mother would have had a stroke if she saw me looking this "unpolished." I couldn't help but wonder if my sister, Mia, would be there. She was usually at these high-profile campus events, her dimples working overtime.
The arena was a sensory assault. It was packed to the rafters for the game against a rival college, the air thick with the scent of floor wax, popcorn, and adrenaline. We spotted Edd near the court, and naturally, Adam was standing nearby. Edd waved us over with a bright grin, but Adam just gave me a stiff, awkward nod before looking away. He was clearly still nursing the bruise I'd left on his ego a week ago, and I had no intention of being the one to heal it.
As we settled into our seats, I let my eyes wander. I found the "Elite Rows" almost instantly, the section where people like Marissa sat. She was leaning back, surrounded by her inner circle, looking every bit the campus royalty Charlie described. I must have been staring, because Marissa suddenly scanned the crowd as if she felt a prickle of heat. I whipped my head away so fast I felt a twinge in my neck. I really have to stop being found out.
Then, the cheers shifted from a murmur to a roar. The Lions were out.
I found him immediately. In the blue jersey and shorts, Liam looked... dangerous. It was a different kind of presence than the one he had in the dark hallways. He moved with a fit, feline grace that made the other players look like they were moving in slow motion.
My heart hammered wildly in my chest when I realized his eyes were scanning our section. I prayed the distance and the crowd would hide me, but his gaze stopped right on me. He didn't look away. He just smirked, whispered something to a teammate, and then turned his focus to the court. My cheeks felt warm somehow.
The game was a blur of high-speed energy. I tried to focus on the ball, but I couldn't stop watching him. He was a force, quick and entirely dominant. But as the clock ticked down, the opposing team began to target him. They were riling him up, throwing elbows and whispered provocations under the whistle.
I could see the anger building in him, a physical tension that seemed to radiate from his shoulders. After a particularly foul exchange, Liam snapped. The whistle blew, the crowd erupted in boos, and just like that, he was slapped with a technical and sent to the bench.
It felt intentional, a calculated move to get the Lions' best player out of the way. With Liam sidelined, Edd finally got his moment to shine, playing with a desperate energy that helped carry the team to a narrow victory.
Charlie was bouncing, screaming her lungs out for Edd, and I forced a laugh to match her energy. But in the back of my mind, I couldn't stop looking at the empty space on the bench. Marissa was gone from her seat, too.
A strange, hollow sensation settled in my stomach. The victory felt loud and bright, but as the crowd flooded the floor, all I could think about was the dark silence that usually followed Liam Lincoln wherever he went.