My back is to it, but I don’t need to look. I know. The entire atmosphere in the room shifts, like the pressure has suddenly dropped. The easy chatter falters. A cold weight settles in the pit of my stomach.
I turn slowly.
Raiden.
He’s standing just inside the doorway, dressed in black jeans and a dark grey hoodie, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looks… exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his jaw is tight with a tension that seems to vibrate through the whole room. But he’s here.
My heart gives a single, painful lurch of hope.
He’s here. He came.
Our eyes meet across the room, and for a split second, I see something desperate in his gaze. Then it’s gone, shuttered away behind a mask of cold indifference. He doesn’t smile and doesn’t nod. He just scans the room, his gaze gliding right past me as ifI’m not even there, before walking over to the far side of the rink to talk to Marlon.
The hope inside me dies. It withers and turns to ash.
So this is it. This is the end game. He got what he wanted—me lying to the professor, securing his alibi. And now he’s here to make an appearance, to solidify his role as a helpful volunteer in front of witnesses before the big event tomorrow. And to make sure I understand, definitively, that whatever happened between us meant nothing. That it was all a lie to get me to cooperate. To laugh at my naivety, my innocence.
A cold, hard fury begins to build where the hope used to be.
“Artie?”
I’d forgotten Chase was still standing there. He’s moved even closer, his arm brushing against mine. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
I finally see it clearly now, the way he’s looking at me isn’t just friendly. It’s predatory. The subtle touches, the intense eye contact… he’s interested. The realization makes my skin crawl. He must have seen my coming out speech to my friends.
“I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth, my eyes still fixed on Raiden’s back.
“So,” Chase says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Got any plans for after Christmas? Once this whole party thing is done? Maybe we could… grab a drink somewhere? Or a movie?”
I should say no. Just that I’m not interested and walk away. But as he speaks, I see Raiden turn his head slightly. He’s watching us. He’s listening. His face is a dark mask of fury, his eyes blazing with a dangerous light from across the room.
And a petty, ugly, self-destructive part of me rears its head.
You want to pretend I don’t exist? Fine. Watch this.
I turn my full attention to Chase, forcing a smile onto my face that feels brittle and fake. “I’m not sure yet,” I say, deliberatelyletting my gaze linger on him a little too long. “But yeah, maybe we can think of something.”
I feel, more than see, the sheer force of Raiden’s anger. It’s a palpable wave of energy radiating across the room. I’m half expecting him to storm over, to grab me, to say something. Part of me, the pathetic part I despise, is hoping for it. A grand, jealous gesture. A sign that he cares.
But he doesn’t move.
He just watches us, his entire body rigid, his expression growing darker and more aggressive by the second.
Then, with a final, searing glare that promises violence, he turns his back on me completely and goes to the common room without a word to anyone.
The door slams shut behind him. The sound echoes the slamming of a door in my own heart.
The sick, hollow feeling that floods my body is worse than anything I’ve felt before. He’s gone. It’s really over. And I’ve just sunk to his level, using this creepy guy I have no interest in as a pawn in a game I’ve already lost.
I mumble an excuse to Chase and flee, skating be damned, practically running back to my dorm. I don’t believe I could stoop so low. My silly fantasies… that a jealous Raiden would rush to win me back from Chase, that my affection could tame the beast… they crumble into dust, revealing the pathetic, naive loser underneath.
~ ~ ~
Christmas Day arrives not with a bang, but with a grey storm.
I wake up late, the dorm building eerily quiet. Everyone who had a home to go to is already gone.
I spend the day in a miserable haze, not painting, not sketching, just… existing.
