I didn’t turn around.I stared at a complex derivative, willing the numbers to make sense, but my brain was entirely focused on the acoustic data behind me: denim sliding over skin, the click of a belt buckle, the snap of a fresh T-shirt being shaken out.Finally, I heard the creaking sound of his box springs as he sat back on his bed.I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Cardiovascular beats pulsed from his earbuds, faint but insistent.Luke bounced a rubber ball off the wall—tap, catch, tap—keeping rhythm with the track.My eye twitched at the disruption, or maybe just the proximity, but he stopped after three and pocketed the ball.
“Too loud?”he asked.
“Rhythmic.Unexpected.Reminds me of a metronome.”I gathered my stuff and stood to head back out.
He nodded, then zipped the ball into a small cloth pouch and set it inside his skate.Contained.
“Headed to lecture?”he asked.
“Calc II.The professor has a pop-quiz today to see what the students remember from last semester.I’ll be grading quizzes.”I slung my backpack.“You?”
“Film study.”He was massaging his foot.He saw me looking and added, “My toes are still numb from the ice bath.”He made a face.“If they fall off, you get the bigger closet.”
“Generous trade.”I opened the door.
As I left, he called, “Austen—thanks for being chill.”
I paused in the threshold.Chill.I gave a short nod and let the hallway swallow me.
TA duty ended at five sharp.Thankfully, most of the students remembered at least a fraction of what they’d been taught in the previous semester.A few, well, they had forgotten simple addition over the summer.I detoured by Blue Mug and ordered two iced coffees—one extra large.I didn’t examine the purchase until I was halfway back to Stony Creek, cups sweating through cardboard sleeves.
Our door stood ajar.Voices drifted: Luke’s low rumble and another, lighter—female?
I nudged the door wider.
Luke sat cross-legged on his bed, laptop open to game footage.The visitor stood beside him, ponytail flipping as she turned toward me.Blonde, North Ridge letterman jacket.
“Hey,” she said brightly.“You must be Austen.”
“Depends.Who’s asking?”
“Devon’s girlfriend,” Luke clarified.“Kayla.She’s borrowing my psych notes.”
I held up the cups.“Coffee run.That one’s yours if you want.”
Luke’s brows climbed.“Serious?Lifesaver.”He hopped up, took the large, and sipped.“Perfect.”
“Personally, I’m caffeine-cutting,” Kayla said.She tucked a USB into her pocket.“Thanks, Luke.”
She exited with an easy wave.
Luke set the coffee on his desk, dragging in the rich scent.“I owe you.”
“My friend Maya said I needed to be nicer to you.Call it my version of a grand gesture.”
He laughed, surprised.“Fair.”He closed the laptop.“You good with company popping in?I should’ve texted.”
“It’s your room too.”I flipped my notebook open, uncapped a pen.“But if you give notice, I’ll steer clear.I can always hang out in Ridgeway Hall or the library… if you need privacy.”
“Deal.”He stretched, shoulders cracked.“But privacy?I seriously doubt I’ll need privacy.I don’t have time for that in my life.I’m meeting the guys for dinner at six.You hanging out in the room?”
“Probably.”I gestured at the stack of graded quizzes.“Still need to log these into Canvas for the professor.”
“Cool.I’ll grab my stuff.”He grabbed his wallet and phone before throwing on a baseball cap.Then he hesitated at the door.“You need anything from the dining hall?Cookies?Those weird energy bars?”
“Blueberry oat if they’re stocked.”
