But Theo’snotCole. I know he’s not. He’s kind, and complicated, and everything I shouldn’t want. But I do. God, I do.
I sit alone in the classroom, the clock’s ticking louder than it should be. The overhead lights hum above me, the room too bright for so early in the morning. My pulse hums even louder, the sound echoing in my ears. Every second that passes stretches and pulls until it feels almost unbearable.
Then the door opens.
“Oh, shit!”
Theo startles so hard he nearly drops his coffee. His voice cracks a little, and he lets out a breathy laugh as he catches it just in time. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here this early. Class doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.”
I smile before I can stop myself, my chest growing warm. He looks different today. Tired. His curls a bit messier than usual, his eyes a bit dimmer, like maybe he didn’t sleep much either. His shirt is crisp, but hands loose, untucked, like he’d gotten dressed in a hurry. Something about him looksoff.Maybe he’s unraveling, just like me.
My gaze travels down the hard lines of his body, taking in the faint outline of his undershirt through the white cotton. I imagine touching him again, just for a moment. My hands gliding over warm skin, my lips brushing his neck. I have to bite my cheek to stop myself from doing something stupid.
When my gaze returns to his face, I see the heated, hungry look in his eyes. He’s staring at me. Hard. Looking right into the depths of my soul. Silence hangs heavily between us, the air charged with things left unsaid.
“Sorry for scaring you.” I say, working hard to make my words sound casual. “Woke up early this morning. Figured I’d get a head start.”
“You didn’t scare me,” he says quickly, narrowing his eyes and scowling at me. “I was just startled.”
“Same thing,” I shoot back, lips tipping up into a smile.
“Sure isn’t, Trouble.”
His voice dips when he says the wordtrouble, and my heart lurches in my chest. That nickname… it says everything he can't, or won’t, say out loud. With just one word.
He stiffens, his eyes widening like he hadn’t meant to use it aloud. Especially not here. Not now. Not at school. We are playing a very dangerous game.
“So…” I say, standing up slowly, letting the word hang between us. I cross the room toward him, every step deliberate. “Did you have a good weekend?”
His shoulders rise and fall with a deep, heavy sigh. One that tells me he’s not just tired, he’s exhausted. Tortured by this. Byus.
“Sophie…” He eventually says. “Yes. I had the best weekend I’ve had in a long time.”
The confession hits my chest like a breath of air after almost drowning. My heart flutters, traitorous and hopeful. “Me too,” I whisper softly.
He’s quiet for a beat too long. It stretches in the air between us. I find myself holding my breath until he speaks again.
“Look…”
And just like that, the air turns cold. I don’t move as I brace myself for impact.
“We…this…it’s not going to work. It can’t work.”
The words slice clean through me. I feel them in my throat, my ribs, my spine. Ithurts.I look away, blinking fast. Feeling the backs of my eyes burn, tears threatening to fall.
My voice cracks. “I’m so close to graduating. Just a couple of months. And then none of it will matter.”
“It mattersnow,” he says, staring at the floor like he can’t even stand to look at me. “It’s too much.”
He drags a hand through his hair, fingers trembling enough for me to notice. “I need you to hear me,” he says, voice softer now. “I can not do this with you. My job, my life… I’d lose everything. And you…” He stops himself, jaw tight. “You’re too young. For this, for me. It’s wrong. We’ve crossed a line we can’t uncross, but it can’t go any further.”
Fuck. It’s worse than I’d expected. Not because of what he said, but because of the careful way he said it. Like this is killing him. Like he means every word, even though he wishes he didn’t.
He won’t even look at me.
I stand there, heart splintering in real time. Then, I reach for the nearest sticky note and scribble my number down on it with shaking fingers. It’s barely legible. I slap it down onto his desk, not bothering to meet his eyes.
“Just in case you change your mind,” I say.
