I shrug, trying to play it cool despite the tightness in my chest. I barely survived my first year here, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Trying my best. It’s not easy, though.”
Jared’s smile shifts, suddenly sympathetic, which feels… strange. In high school, we were more rivals than anything else,always at odds, especially after that one night we hooked up. Things changed after that, at least for me.
“You know,” he says, his tone friendlier now, “if you ever need someone to talk to or just want a break from all this”—he gestures toward the crowd around us—“I’m around.”
Okay, now something is up.
“Did Serena tell you to talk to me?”
Something flashes in his eyes, then he schools his expression, but that split second tells me enough.
“Ay, Dios mío, she did,” I groan, dragging a hand over my face. “I’m not a child, and I definitely don’t need a babysitter.”
“I never said you were a kid… but you’re sure acting like one now.”
I stomp my feet as a reflex. “I’m not acting like a kid. I just don’t need everyone swooping in to ‘help’ me. I’m perfectly capable of handling my problems.”
Jared’s eyebrow arches, his smile shifting into a full-blown smirk. “So, what are you saying? That you’re too grown up for a little help?”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I snap, crossing my arms defensively. “I can manage just fine.”
“Is that so?” Jared grins, a daring glint in his eyes. “Well, you were always the independent one back in middle school. Didn’t you ace that science project about watering plants with milk and water? Solo, no less.”
“Yeah, and I remember you were the one who blew up the lab with your experiment, not exactly the best role model. Seriously, who does Coca-Cola and Mentos as a science experiment?”
Jared laughs, shaking his head. “Hey, I learned from my mistakes. And I’m not here to blow up your world. Just offering a little help.”
“I don’t need help, I need space,” I say, turning away slightly. “Besides, I don’t need Serena telling you to watch over me like a hawk. I’m not twelve anymore, Jared.”
“Serena wanted me to check in on you.” His tone grows more serious. “It’s not about being a kid, it’s about having someone in your corner when you need them.”
“Oh, so now you’re the expert on my life?” I shoot back, my frustration making me more defensive. “God, who made you my dad?”
“Not an expert or your dad,” Jared yields, holding his hands up. “Just someone who cares. If you’d rather I disappear and let you handle it alone, that’s fine. But don’t act like you’re the only one who’s struggling here.”
I look at him, realizing he’s not just pushing my buttons. There’s genuine concern behind his words. He avoids my gaze for a few seconds.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I just… I don’t want to talk about my problems right now. I’m fine.”
“I get it,” Jared says softer, the usual smirk replaced with something quieter. “Look, if you change your mind, I’m here. No judgment, no strings attached. Just someone who gets it.”
“Fine, whatever,” I say, offering him a quick, tight smile. “I’ll see you around.”
With that, I continue my quest to find Olivia. I push through the crowd, finally spotting her energetic presence in the middle of the room. The noise of the party grows louder, but it fades intothe background as my anxiety creeps in. I force a smile as I chat with Olivia, who asks if I’m having fun, but the energy around me only feels suffocating rather than freeing. Every beat of the music amplifies the internal chaos spewing, making it harder to connect with the people around me. The room feels too hot and too loud, and I can’t shake the sense that I’m feeling out of place.
Despite my efforts to blend in and let loose, the anxiety clings to me like a shadow at night. No matter how much I try to be present, it feels like I’m just going through the motions, struggling to find any real connection in the midst of the crowd.
Chapter 5
Jared
Walking into the lab for the first time at Carolina Coast University, I’m already bracing myself for the tornado. The noise and the sheer volume of new faces are becoming too much. The lab’s packed with students already paired up, chatting and gearing up for the experiment like they’ve all been doing this for weeks. I’m standing here, wondering how they all make it look so easy.
I can’t believe Mr. Henderson managed to get me a seat in this class at the last minute. Usually, colleges don’t allow late students to join, but he pulled some strings due to myinteresting circumstances, as he’d called them. I appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t make the adjustment any easier.
I scan the room for an empty spot, and then I see a familiar face. She’s hunched over a notebook, scribbling furiously with a pen. I take a steadying breath, walk over, and ask, “Is this seat taken?”
