The door to my first class creaks open, and I slip in, trying not to attract too much attention—which is easier said than done, as several people turn to look at me. I fumble with the door handle before letting it swing shut behind me and glance around the hall.
The lecture room is bigger than I expected, with rows of seats curving upward like an auditorium. A few students are scattered throughout, flipping through notebooks or scrolling on their phones. I find a seat near the middle, close enough to pay attention but not so close that I'll feel under a microscope.
I gulp, my steps seeming loud in the quiet room.
I drop my bag next to the chair and start pulling out my things; pens, notebook, laptop. It all feels like a normal start to the day. Like any other first day of school. Except it's not. School? I nearly scoff. How ridiculous.
My hands rest on the table, fidgeting idly with a pencil while I wait for something, anything, to happen to distract me. I try to ignore the familiar tightness in my chest, the same feeling I've had since Andre mentioned Jade yesterday. I tell myself I'm overthinking. It was a mistake, whatever it was with her, for however brief. Being locked in a janitorial cupboard is hardly something to write home about. But it was something. It meant something to me. I think. I'm not sure.
She dismissed me the second anything happened, and she ran back to her boyfriend, Beck. He's a nice guy. Sweet and a real prince charming. From what I've seen plastered all over his social media, he's only gotten more handsome in the time between our very few hangouts. As for Jade... well, I've only seen pixels of her.
I nearly bash my head against the desk to shake away thoughts of her, but the door swinging open stops me in my tracks. I don't even have to look up to know it's her. The sudden shift in the air is enough. That magnetic pull I've been trying to forget makes my stomach drop, swirl, and backflip.
Jade West walks into the room like she owns it. As if she's above everyone and everything. Her black combat boots stomp across the floor, and the small, casual conversations happening around the room seem too dull. Even the atmosphere reacts to her presence. Why wouldn't they? I mean, look at her. She's beautiful, glorious. A perfectly crafted marble statue.
I gulp.
I force myself to look, but as soon as I do, I wish I hadn't.
She's the same, yet somehow even more intimidating. Dark clothes, perfectly smudged eyeliner, hair falling effortlessly around her shoulders, now tinged with purple streaks. Her expression is cold and unreadable, like a fortress no one dares to breach. The only person I've ever known who could break down those walls was Beck.
She glances around the room, scanning the crowd, and for a split second, her gaze lands on me. My heart skips a beat.
For that one moment, it feels like everything we've left unsaid is written in the air between us. But then, just as quickly, her eyes narrow, and her face hardens to stone. She looks through me, not at me. Like I'm not even there.
No words. No acknowledgment. Only pure ice.
She moves past my row without a second glance and takes a seat toward the back, where she's always been most comfortable - watching from a distance, keeping herself apart from the rest of the world. From me.
I try to steady my breathing, but I can't help the knot of anxiety forming in my chest. I'd prepared for a lot of things starting college, but seeing Jade again - like this - wasn't one of them. I didn't expect her to be warm, but I also didn't expect to feel like I was nothing more than a stranger to her. Less than that, even. Just another person in the room. I might as well be a bug to step on.
I'd hoped she'd say hi, so reconvening nothing other than a withering glare, stung.
It shouldn't hurt this much. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that we're past this, past us, whatever that even was. But the way she looked at me, or rather didn't, cuts deeper than I want to admit.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, forcing my attention to the front of the room.
The door opens again, and I jump, my nerves already on edge. The professor walks in, and I do a double-take. He's older, balding, with thick glasses perched on the tip of his nose, wearing a mustard-colored sweater vest over a white button-up shirt. He looks like a caricature of a college professor, shuffling papers and muttering to himself as he arranges his notes on the desk at the front of the room. His blue tie is slightly crooked, and when he looks up at us, his eyes squint as if he's forgotten his own glasses prescription.
"Good afternoon," he says, his voice gravelly but surprisingly loud. He taps the chalkboard—an actual chalkboard, not one of those fancy whiteboards or digital screens I was expecting. Crazy, right? "Welcome to Introduction to Creative Writing."
I'm trying to focus on what he's saying, mumbling something about expectations for the course, assignments, and office hours. But my mind keeps drifting. I can't stop thinking about the other students, the ones who all look so sure of themselves. Am I supposed to be like them? Is there some unwritten college rulebook I missed? The idea of standing out for all the wrong reasons makes my stomach churn.
But all I can think about is Jade, sitting behind me, the weight of her presence pressing against my back like gravity.
Why does it still feel like this? Why does it feel like nothing's changed when everything should have?
I sneak a glance over my shoulder, but she's not looking at me. She's staring straight ahead, her expression stony, focused as if she's never even heard my name. It's a sharp contrast to how we used to be, back when even our silence had meaning, when the tension between us felt alive, charged with something we never quite understood.
But now? Now it's dead air. Cold and empty.
I turn back to my desk, gripping my pen a little too tightly, trying to convince myself that it doesn't matter. That it's better this way.
But deep down, I know I'm lying to myself.
I settle into my seat, glancing around the classroom, trying to take it all in. The faint hum of the overhead lights mixes with the rustle of papers and the clatter of laptops being opened as the professor continues to talk. Typing fills the room, and students take notes.
Everything about this space feels different from high school, more grown-up. And everyone around me seems so... together. They're all dressed like they belong here. Effortless and cool, like they know exactly who they are. A girl two seats over wears a sleek, fitted leather jacket over a graphic t-shirt, her long, straight hair parted perfectly down the middle. Next to her, a guy with shaggy hair and round glasses scribbles in a red notebook, his grey sweater hanging just right over ripped jeans. Even the girl in front of me, with her hoodie up and earphones in, somehow looks like she's meant to be here. She's naturally part of the scene.
I glance down at my own outfit: plain jeans, sneakers, and a lilac t-shirt that I thought was cute this morning but now feels embarrassingly basic. My stomach twists. I feel out of place like I didn't get the memo on how to look like a college student.
Maybe I'm overthinking it, but it's hard to shake the feeling that I won't fit in here.
Everyone else has already figured out who they are, and I'm just playing catch-up.
Always a step behind.
I reach for my pen, my fingers trembling slightly as I click it open. Maybe if I just take notes, I'll feel more like I belong. Scribbling down whatever the professor is saying might ground me. It might give me some sense of control over this whole new world I've been thrown into. But as I write, my mind keeps wandering back to the one thing I've been trying to avoid.
Jade.
I haven't looked at her since she walked in, but I can feel her.
Her presence is suffocating, even from several rows behind me, and no matter how much I try to focus on the professor's droning voice, my thoughts circle back to her.
What's she thinking right now? Does she care that I'm here, or am I just another face in the crowd to her? My heart races as I picture her sitting behind me, probably glaring at the back of my head with that icy stare she's perfected over the years. I tell myself I'm imagining it, but I can't shake the feeling of her throwing imaginary scissors into my brain.
I sneak another glance over my shoulder, careful not to be too obvious. Jade is slouched back in her chair, arms crossed, legs stretched out in front of her. Her expression is unreadable, but her whole vibe screams don't mess with me. She's wearing all black, as usual; a leather jacket, tight jeans, and combat boots that clunk against the floor. Her dark hair falls over her shoulders in messy waves, effortlessly gorgeous.
She doesn't even flinch when I look at her. She stares straight ahead, like I don't exist.
Cold. Distant. Like we've never met, and that nothing between us has ever happened.
The professor claps his hands together, interrupting my train of thought.
"Alright, everyone! Enough about the syllabus. Let's get to know each other, shall we? We're going to do an icebreaker." His voice reverberates around the room, grabbing everyone's attention. Nervous glances bounce from one person to the next.
I groan inwardly. I've never really enjoyed talking about myself, but here we go, I guess.
"Here's what I want you to do: move around, find a group of four or five people, and introduce yourselves. Share your name, where you're from, and why you chose this class. Simple, right?"
He grins at us, then sits at his small desk by the board, waiting for us to move around.
Not for me.
The room fills with the awkward sound of shuffling chairs, and the nervous buzz of students glancing around, unsure where to sit or who to talk to. I sit frozen for a moment, watching as people begin standing up and gravitating toward the familiar - groups of friends who must have already known each other, or maybe roommates from the same building. They lock together easily, slipping into conversation as if they belong here, like they know what they're doing.
I don't know what I'm doing.
That's nothing new.
I swallow hard, glancing over at Jade. Maybe I should sit with her? She's still sitting in her seat, arms crossed, making no effort to move. Not that I expected her to. Her whole posture screams, don't even think about coming near me. And, of course, no one does. People drift by, forming groups of their own while she sits there, completely untouchable, staring out the window with those emerald eyes.
Fine.
If Jade wants to sit out and pretend she's above all this, I'm not going to let it get to me.
She can sit by herself for all I care. I'm here to meet new people. I force myself to stand up on shaky legs, scanning the room for a group that look friendly and approachable, who won't make me feel like an outsider.
Before I can second-guess myself, I spot a few students gathering chairs near the front of the room, and I walk over. I recognize one of them from earlier, the pretty girl with the leather jacket, looking effortlessly cool. A pang of jealousy hits me, but I swallow it down as I approach. There's a guy with blonde shaggy hair sitting next to her, and across from him is another girl flipping through her notebook absentmindedly. They glance up as I approach, and for a split second, I feel like turning back. But I don't.
"Mind if I join you guys?" I ask, my voice coming out more tentative than I intended.
The girl in the leather jacket looks up and smiles. "Sure, go ahead. I'm Sam." She gestures to the blonde guy. "This is Aiden, and that's Liv." The girl with the notebook gives a small wave and returns to writing.
"Tori," I say, settling into an empty chair. "Nice to meet you all."
The chair creaks underneath me, and I glance back at Jade, who's still not participating.
Oh well.
We start with the usual introductions. Where we're from, and what brought us to this class. Sam's from Chicago and is studying creative writing with a focus on screenplays.
They've had a creative knack since they were a child, and their parents always encouraged it. How nice for them.
Aiden is a musician, of course, because there seem to be musicians everywhere. Preferring the piano and violin. He's here because he wants to write song lyrics that actually tell a story. He reminds me of Andre with his quirky grin and positive attitude.
Liv is quieter. She says she's an English major and she's "just here for fun," though she says it with a small, nervous laugh like she's not used to talking about herself. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and drums her fingers on the paper. She mentioned she likes to write thriller books, and had a fondness for the macabre. I shivered at that.
When it's my turn, I hesitate for a second, feeling that familiar flutter of anxiety. I know this is new, but it still feels strange saying out loud. I gulp for the millionth time, hoping to swallow my nerves. "I'm from L.A.," I begin. "And I guess I chose this class because... well, I want to figure out what kind of stories I want to tell. I've always been drawn to performance and writing, but I've never really... I don't know, committed to it, I guess?" Yes! Great work Tori. You did it without throwing up! I mentally pat myself on the back.
The words feel clunky as they leave my mouth, but Sam nods. "Yeah, I get that. This is the place to figure it all out, right?"
I smile, grateful they're not judging me for my awkwardness.
The conversation gets easier after that. We talk about the usual things - where we're staying on campus, how overwhelming it feels to be here, and how we're all pretty much winging it. Liv is in the same building as Cat and me, so we'll probably see her around soon. Sam and Aiden live across campus. They're friendly, and it feels good. Nice and normal. For the first time since I got here, I don't feel like I'm standing on the outside looking in. I'm finally on the other side of the glass.
But every few minutes, my gaze flickers back to the corner of the room where Jade is sitting. She's still alone, still not engaging with anyone, her arms crossed and eyes fixed somewhere on the floor. Her expression is blank, but I know that look. She's checked out, tuning out the world around her. It used to drive me crazy how she could just shut down like that, especially when things got too real between us. She'd disappear into her head, consumed by her own thoughts, and after that, well, she'd turn into a glacier. Building a wall so thick and hard around herself that I could never dream of breaking it.
I try to shake the thought of her. She's not part of my life anymore, I remind myself. She's made that clear, and I've got my own life to figure out. It's stupid to keep letting her affect me like this.
"So," Sam says, pulling me back into the conversation, "what do you think of the campus so far? It's pretty big, right?" They raise an eyebrow, waiting for one of us to respond.
I nod, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, it's definitely... overwhelming. I nearly got lost on my way to my dorm last week." I chuckle.
Aiden grins. "Yeah, me too. It's crazy."
I laugh, feeling a little lighter. Maybe this is exactly what I need. New people, new experiences, a chance to get over it. Maybe I don't need to worry about Jade or where we stand. Maybe I can let it go.
But as we continue talking, I can't help feeling a pull toward her. It's wrong, I know that. For one, she has a boyfriend who's actually a great guy. If Jade could realize that. And two, well, I don't know. It shouldn't be this hard.
We stuck in our groups for the next hour, and by the end, my nerves had all but disappeared. At first, the conversation is a bit stilted, everyone's still feeling each other out, unsure of what to say, or how to present themselves. But slowly, the awkwardness begins to melt away as we dive into different topics, sharing stories from our hometowns, talking about music, movies, and whatever random things pop up. The icebreaker game actually works. By the halfway mark, we're laughing about Aiden's disastrous attempt to cook in his dorm kitchen, and Sam's horror story about getting lost in the library basement on a tour.
As the minutes pass, I feel myself relaxing, no longer overthinking every word I say. It feels nice, easy even, to connect with people who don't already know me inside and out, who have no idea what my baggage is, or what I went through with Jade. For once, I'm not trying to live up to anyone's expectations or mend the pieces of a relationship that fell apart.
By the end of the hour, I feel lighter, I can actually breathe again.
The knots in my stomach, which had twisted so tightly the moment I stepped into this room, are gone. I'm finally beginning to settle into this new chapter of my life, finding my rhythm with people who seem genuine and kind. It's a small victory, but right now, it feels huge. And I'll take it.
As the professor wraps up the class, he gives a few final words about upcoming assignments and deadlines, but I barely hear him. My eyes keep drifting back to Jade, who's still sitting at the back of the room, her head down as she lazily taps her pen against her notebook. Is she even paying attention? Chiz. I should be paying attention.
I keep telling myself to focus, to stop obsessing over her, but there's this nagging feeling in my chest. Maybe it's stupid, but I want to talk to her. I can't just sit in the same class and ignore her. I'm not like her. Even if it's just a simple hello, to see if there's any chance we can be... well, not friends, but something. I don't even know what I expect, but the idea of leaving things like this, cold and distant, feels so wrong.
"Alright, that's it for today," the professor says. "Make sure to check the course portal for next week's readings, and feel free to stop by during office hours if you have any questions."
Chairs scrape against the floor as everyone starts packing up, shuffling out of the room in groups or on their own. I stuff my notebook into my bag, my pulse quickening as I glance over at Jade again. She's moving slowly, gathering her things like she's in no rush, which gives me a sliver of hope.
Maybe I have time to catch her before she leaves.
I zip up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, mentally preparing myself to approach her. My heart pounds, nerves crawling up my spine, but I keep telling myself I can do this. It's just Jade. I've known her for years. I've had tougher conversations, right?
But then, as I'm about to stand, she gets up, slinging her black leather bag over her shoulder. Without a glance in my direction, she strides toward the door with that same effortless, confident walk she's always had. My stomach twists.
No. Not yet. I can't let her walk out without at least trying.
I grab my bag and hurry toward the exit, dodging the other students milling around. I catch a glimpse of her disappearing through the doorway, and my heart sinks. By the time I reach the threshold, she's already gone.
I push through the crowded hallway, scanning for any sign of her, but it's like she's vanished into thin air. I stand there for a moment, feeling foolish for even thinking I could catch up to her. Jade's always been good at leaving, at slipping away when things get too complicated.
I sigh, leaning back against the wall as the hallway empties around me. I don't know why I thought today would be any different. Of course, Jade wouldn't stick around for a conversation. She's never been the type to linger in awkward situations, especially not with me.
"Hey, Tori!"
I turn to see Sam and Aiden walking toward me, waving. I force a smile.
"Wanna come with us?" Sam asks, their voice casual like we've all known each other forever.
"Yeah," I reply, trying to push thoughts of Jade out of my mind. "Sounds great."
Sam links their arm with mine as we navigate through the bustling building, a vibrant mix of students hurrying to their next classes. The corridors are lined with large windows that allow streams of natural light to flood in, illuminating the colorful artwork hanging on the walls - paintings and photographs that reflect the creative energy of the campus. The faint sound of laughter and chatter echoes around us, blending with the soft hum of conversation and footsteps against the polished floors.
The warmth of the summer air greets us like a warm blanket the moment we step outside.
nNd just my luck, there's a coffee cart stationed right outside, adorned with bright banners boasting an array of drinks. The cart is a small, cheerful fixture amidst the larger backdrop of the campus, decorated with whimsical illustrations of steaming cups and beans. A small line has formed, but it's manageable.
As we approach, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, rich and inviting. I catch sight of the man running the cart, an older gentleman with a warm smile and a weathered blue baseball cap perched atop his head. He moves with a practiced ease, expertly pouring coffee and steaming milk, creating a comforting rhythm as he interacts with each customer.
"Do you want anything?" Sam asks, glancing up at me, their bright eyes glinting with excitement.
"Just a coffee, I think," I reply, feeling the exhaustion from the day starting to creep in. "I could use the caffeine boost."
Aiden walks ahead, animatedly discussing his latest music project, his voice a lively counterpoint to the serene atmosphere. I let my mind drift a little, absorbing the vibrant surroundings. The lively chatter of students, the sunlight filtering through the trees outside, and the enticing scent of coffee combine to create a warm and welcoming environment. It feels like a breath of fresh air compared to the heaviness I felt in class, especially with Jade lingering in the back of my mind.
As we reach the front of the line, I can't help but observe the variety of drinks available.
The cart is adorned with colorful posters showcasing everything from simple black coffee to elaborate lattes topped with intricate designs. I glance over at Sam, who seems completely at ease.
"What do you usually get?" I ask, curious about their preferences.
"Oh, I'm a bit of a vanilla latte addict," Sam replies with a chuckle. "I need a little sweetness in my life, you know?"
I smile, appreciating their easygoing nature. "Maybe I should try that. Sounds like a good way to treat myself after today."
Once we reach the front of the line, I order a plain coffee with a dash of vanilla, while Sam enthusiastically places their order for a vanilla latte. Aiden goes for a caramel macchiato, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
While we wait for our drinks, Sam nudges me playfully. "So, how did you feel about class? I mean, aside from the awkwardness."
I shrug, trying to gather my thoughts. "It was a great. I was nervous at first, but once I started talking to you guys, it felt a lot easier. Still... there's this thing with an old friend hanging over me. You might've seen her in class, she sat at the back."
Curiousness lights Sam's eyes, and they raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Do you two know each other? I thought she was in the wrong class, to be totally honest. She felt out of place."
I take a deep breath, wrestling with my feelings. "We did. It's just... complicated now. I thought maybe I could reach out, but it seems like she wants nothing to do with me. She practically ran away before I could get a word in."
The barista hands us our drinks, and I take a moment to savor the warmth of the cup in my hands. The man behind the cart smiles as he hands me my coffee, his eyes crinkling with kindness.
"Just take it one step at a time," Aiden chimes in. "As Shakespeare said, If it's meant to be, it will be. Actually, don't quote me. Who said that?" He starts to ramble before stopping himself. "Besides, you've got new friends now. Focus on that!" He winks at me and pats my elbow in passing.
"See you chica's later, gotta bolt." He gives us a lazy wave and wanders off down the winding path through the trees.
As we step away from the coffee cart, I take a sip of my drink, allowing the warmth to seep through me. The campus is alive with energy, and maybe today won't be so bad after all.
Thanks so much for the warm welcome with this story!
Especially Invader Johnny, Lushcoltrane and alex02! Thank you guys for you reviews, I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! :)
I'm thinking of sticking to this chapter length, around 4k words, how does everyone feel about that? Would you prefer them longer? Shorter? Let me know.
Comments, constructive criticism and any helpful words would be appreciated!
Until next time :)
