Friday arrives and I spend the day in a state of low-level anxiety. My morning class drags. My library shift feels endless. By thetime I'm back in my dorm room at five, I have less than two hours to get ready and I have no idea what to wear.
"It's not a real date," I mutter to myself, standing in front of my closet. "It's a contract obligation. What you wear doesn't matter."
But I still try on four different outfits before settling on leggings and an oversized sweater. Comfortable, like he said. Nothing that suggests I'm trying too hard.
I leave my hair down. Minimal makeup. My usual silver earrings—thrift store finds from freshman year.
At 6:30, my phone buzzes with texts from both Ivy and Lennox.
Ivy:Remember to text us. And keep your phone charged.
Lennox:Have fun but not too much fun. We need details tomorrow.
Me:You're both ridiculous.
Ivy:We're both concerned friends. There's a difference.
At 6:45 exactly, there's a knock on my door.
I take a breath. Check my reflection one more time. Grab my phone and keys.
This is it. Date three. Alone with Sebastian at the Legacy House.
Nothing to be nervous about.
Except everything.
I open the door. Sebastian stands in the hallway wearing jeans, actual jeans, not expensive slacks and a dark sweater. His hair is less styled than usual, falling slightly into his eyes. He looks... normal. Almost human.
"Ready?" he asks.
No. Not even close.
"Let's go," I say instead.
His car is waiting outside, that same black Mercedes that screams money. But when I slide into the passenger seat, I notice things I didn't before. A worn copy of a poetry collection in the side pocket. A coffee stain on the center console. Small imperfections that make it feel less like a show piece and more like something actually used.
"Nervous?" he asks as he starts the car.
"Should I be?"
"No. I promise tonight is just movies. No pressure. No games." He glances at me. "Just us figuring this out."
Us. There's that word again.
The drive to the Legacy House takes five minutes. I've passed it dozens of times but never been inside. It looms on the edge of campus, three stories of stone and history, windows glowing warm against the February night.
Sebastian parks in the private lot. Leads me to a side entrance instead of the front door.
"We're avoiding your housemates?" I guess.
"They're having a party in the main house. I thought you'd prefer privacy."
"You thought right."
He leads me up a back staircase to the third floor. Opens a door to reveal... not what I expected.
His room is huge—the size of my entire dorm suite—but surprisingly personal. Books everywhere. A desk covered in papers. Windows overlooking the campus. And in one corner, a leather journal I recognize from his texts.
