Firstly, this whole academic pairing thing with Marley was really happening. And secondly, there was that strange, jittery feeling that showed up every time I knew I would be anywhere near her.
I had been trying not to think about why I kept noticing certain things about her. The way she held her pen during lectures, her fingers relaxed but clean in their motion. How she barely took notes and still knew exactly what to say when the professors called on her. Or was it the confident way she walked across campus.
Gosh.
These weren’t things you noticed about someone you disliked, were they?
Heaven help me, but I sincerely had no idea why. Maybe I just admired confident people, I reasoned quickly. That had to be it. There was absolutely nothing deep or strange about it.
Yes, it was admiration. That definitely explained it.
I got to one of the tables and looked around, this part of the library was completely empty and my annoying course mate slash project partner hadn't even shown up yet.
“Four o’clock indeed,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I dropped my bag on the table and pulled out a chair.
After sitting down, I brought out my laptop and the few textbooks I had brought for our research. I had selected a textbook on cultural adaptation and one on gender expression. As I waited, curiosity got the best of me.
Within five minutes, I had started reading the first chapter of the book titled Beyond the Binary: Exploring Fluid Identities in Contemporary Society.
The text was dense but fascinating, discussing how gender expression existed on a spectrum and not in rigid categories. I found myself genuinely absorbed, taking notes in the margins when I heard footsteps approaching.
“Well, well. Look who’s already doing homework.”
I looked up to find Marley standing to my left, beside the table, her backpack slung over one shoulder, hair slightly mussed, probably from running her fingers through it. She was wearing a dark green Henley that somehow made her eyes look brighter, paired with those same black boots from our first meeting.
She looked… good.
The thought hit me unexpectedly. The Henley fit her perfectly, outlining the strength of her shoulders.
I caught myself staring a beat too long before quickly looking back down at my book.
“You’re late,” I said, checking my watch. “It’s already quarter past four.”
“I overslept,” she said with a shrug, dropping into the chair across from me.
Not even an apology.
“Well, try not to oversleep next time. Besides, I’m not doing homework,” I added, closing the book a little defensively. “I’m preparing for our project.”
“Beyond the Binary,” she read from the cover, raising an eyebrow as she settled in. “Interesting choice. Getting familiar with enemy territory?”
“It’s not enemy territory, it’s called research… ever heard of that?”
“Research,” she repeated, pulling out her own laptop. Even that felt calculated when she did it. “And what groundbreaking insights have you discovered about people like me since you started reading it?”
There was an edge to her voice that made me look up from my notes.
“People like you?”
“Gender nonconforming individuals. Butch women. Whatever category you want to stick on me for your little academic notes.”
I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
“I wasn’t trying to label you. I was trying to understand the theoretical framework we’ll be working with.”
“Uh-huh.” She leaned back in her chair, studying me with those penetrating green eyes. The library lights caught gold flecks in them, and for a second, I forgot what I was supposed to say.
“And what does the textbook tell you about identity, princess?”
