I left before either of them woke up, went back to the dorm, showered, and now I'm in the library pretending to be a functional pre-med student. No early practice, no classes. Just me and page 312 of my anatomy textbook, which is making sense for the first time in weeks.
The diagram of the brachial plexus clicks into place like it's been waiting for me to pay attention, and I've read four pages in the last twenty minutes. A week ago, I spent an hour on the sameparagraph about the skeletal system and produced exactly two words of notes.
Three nights in Iris' nest will do that, apparently. My brain shuts off in that space in a way it doesn't anywhere else. I flip the page, mentally patting myself on the back as I reach page five only for my focus to be ruined by a chair across from me scraping against the floor.
Chad drops into it, his backpack hitting the table hard enough to rattle my highlighters. Kevin slides into the chair beside him a second later
"Q-man." Chad leans back, spreading his arms across the backs of the chairs on either side of him, taking up as much physical space as possible. "Studying hard?"
I look at him over the top of my textbook. "Yes."
"Cool, cool." He picks up one of my highlighters, turns it over in his fingers, and puts it back down in the wrong spot. "Must be nice to have all this free time. No girlfriend to worry about. No obligations."
Kevin snorts beside him, then tries to turn it into a cough.
I move the highlighter back to where it was. "Did you need something?"
"Just checking in, bro. Teammates look out for each other, right?" His eyes scan my face, searching for a crack he can pry open. "You seem different lately. Lighter. More relaxed. People are talking."
"People should find better hobbies." I hate that going to college only became highschool for adults. Still some of the stupid ass Alpha posturing and everyone trying to figure out what’s best for them while stepping on everyone else.
"It's just interesting, is all. You and your brother, spending a lot of time with the coach's daughter after that auction." He leans forward, lowering his voice like he's sharing a secret. "Look, I'm not judging. But Iris is... she's a different league, you know?She's an Alpha. ArealAlpha. The kind that needs someone who can actually keep up."
"And that's you." The words come out flat. I manage to swallow a laugh as I grab my pen and underline a random sentence.
Chad drops his hand to the table, harder than necessary as I look up to meet his gaze. "I'm just saying, a Beta doesn't have the biology for it. No offense. It's just science." He shrugs, palms turning up like he's delivering an unfortunate truth. "Omegas are one thing, they've got the instinct to submit, it's natural. But a Beta trying to match an Alpha? That's like bringing a bicycle to a drag race."
Kevin laughs. "Good one, bro."
I close my textbook. The motion is slow, on purpose, and I take my time squaring my notes on top of it before folding my hands and giving Chad my full attention. He mistakes this for engagement, his posture shifting forward, his smile widening. I shouldn’t provoke the guy but I’m really tired of his bullshit. "You've asked Iris out forty-seven times," I say.
His smile falters. "I don't think it's been that—"
"Forty-seven. She's said no to every single one. You even proposed with a protein shake." I hold his gaze. "You wrote 'Be My Gainz' on it. It was chocolate-flavored."
Kevin's mouth opens and closes. Chad's neck is starting to flush.
"She threw it away without opening it," I continue. "You told the locker room she was 'considering it.' She wasn't." My arms cross over my chest. "So when you talk about biology and leagues and keeping up, I want to make sure I'm understanding correctly. You're the authority on what Iris wants. You, specifically. The man she's rejected forty-something times."
The flush spreads from Chad's neck to his face, a muscle jumping beneath his jaw as Kevin drops his gaze to the table.
"That's what I thought." I pick up my textbook and open it back to page 312. "Don’t let the door hit you on your way out."
Chad stands so fast his chair screeches against the floor. He grabs his backpack, knocking my highlighters out of alignment again, and stalks toward the exit. Kevin follows a few steps behind, glancing back at me once with an expression that's harder to read than Chad's.
They disappear around the stacks, my focus now shot.Fucking assholes.A few deep breaths doesn’t help regain my composure so I just start reorganizing my highlighters again. Knowing Chad and Kevin, they’re going to try some shit at a later point. I just hope it isn’t with Iris.
At some point, Milo drops into the chair Chad vacated, two coffees in hand, his hair still wet from a shower. "You’restillhere? Library at nine p.m. on a Thursday. You really know how to live, Q."
He slides one of the coffees toward me, then immediately tilts his head to look at my notebook. "What are you—" He stops. His eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "Are those drawings?"
My hand moves to cover the margin, but it's too late. He's already seen the small, absent shapes I didn't realize I was making while I read. The curve of a bead, repeated three times. Something that might be a jawline. A pair of lines that could be braids or could be nothing, depending on how much credit you give my subconscious.
"It's nothing," I say.
"That's Iris' beads." He's grinning now, pulling the notebook toward him despite my attempt to hold onto it. "And that's — Q, is that my jaw? Did you draw my jaw?"
"I was taking notes."
