Chapter 21 Overstep
Phoebe
I raised a brow at him, questioning his sudden interruption. He leaned casually on the edge of the table, his tone confident as he mentioned the strategy meeting for the tournament. The moment he said it, I seized the opportunity, snapping my notebook shut and apologizing to Tyra for cutting our session short. Though reluctant, she nodded in understanding before I hurriedly gathered my things and followed Finley out.
Once we were out of earshot, I glanced at him. “You didn’t really need me for this, did you?”
Finley smirked but didn’t look at me, his hands shoved casually in his pockets. “Maybe I did. Or maybe I just saved you from a painfully awkward tutoring session.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do I feel like you enjoyed that so much?”
“Because I did.” His grin widened as he glanced sideways at me, his hazel eyes practically glowing with mischief.
“Great. So now I owe you?”
“You could say that.” He stopped suddenly, forcing me to turn to face him. “But don’t worry, I’m not unreasonable. One little favor, and we’ll call it even.”
Something about his tone made my stomach twist—half in curiosity, half in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”
His smirk deepened. “Oh, nothing major. Just be my good luck charm for the tournament.”
I blinked. “Good luck charm? What does that even mean?”
“Just show up. Maybe cheer a little. You know, make it look like you care.”
“Make it look like I care?” I echoed, my voice laced with mock offense.
“Well, you don’t exactly scream ‘team spirit,’” he teased, leaning back against the wall with a casual ease that somehow made him even more infuriating.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. “Fine. But if your strategy fails, it’s not my fault.”
“Deal.” Finley pushed off the wall, his expression momentarily softening. “Thanks, Phoebe.”
For a second, I thought I saw something other than mischief in his gaze—something warmer, more genuine. But before I could be sure, he turned and strode away to the stairs, leaving me standing there wondering if I’d just made a deal with the devil—or someone far more complicated.
The dormitory corridor was dimly lit, and I let out a sigh of relief as I approached my door. At least here, I’d have some peace.
Or so I thought.
“Phoenix!” Tyra’s voice rang out, startling me. She was leaning casually against the wall near my room, her smile as bright as ever. “I thought I’d wait for you. You shouldn’t walk alone at night.”
My mouth opened, then closed. “Tyra, that’s... thoughtful, but unnecessary.”
“Nonsense. It’s what friends do,” she said cheerfully.
Before I could respond, Finley appeared from the shadows, his expression dark. “What are you doing here?”
Tyra blinked at him innocently. “Walking Phoenix back. Why? Is that a problem?”
Finley stepped closer, his tone sharp. “It is when you overstep.”
“Overstep?” Tyra repeated, her smile faltering.
“Finley,” I interjected, trying to defuse the tension. “It’s fine. She was just—”
“It’s not fine,” he cut me off, his eyes never leaving Tyra. “Phoenix doesn’t need you hovering.”
Tyra’s gaze narrowed. “And who are you to decide that?”
“I’m someone who knows when to back off,” he said coldly.
The air between them crackled with tension, and I felt trapped between their glares.
“Okay, enough!” I snapped, stepping between them. “Both of you, stop. This is ridiculous.”
Tyra looked at me, her expression softening. “Sorry, Phoenix. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just wanted to help.”
I tried to steady my breath, trying to keep the tension from tightening around my chest. Tyra’s smile was too knowing, too sharp, and I could feel her eyes digging into me, probing for something I wasn’t ready to reveal. I had to keep things calm, had to keep this situation from spiraling. But somehow, every word I spoke felt like it was getting lost in the air, swallowed by the weight of her presence.
Then, Tyra said it.
“I’ve always been drawn to you, Phoebe—oh, sorry, I meant Phoenix.”
Phoebe. My heart skipped a beat. The world around me seemed to slow as those words wrapped themselves around me, coiling tight. It was like the ground beneath me shifted. Phoebe. My real name. I couldn’t breathe for a second. My pulse hammered in my ears, drowning out everything else.
How did she know my name?
My chest tightened as panic started to creep in, a cold sweat forming along the back of my neck. I was standing there, exposed. How does she know that? How much does she know?
Tyra’s gaze never wavered. She didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, and her smile only deepened, like she was savoring this moment. The words she had let slip felt like a slip of a mask, something far more dangerous hiding behind them. And she was watching me, waiting for my reaction.
I could feel the walls closing in, the weight of her gaze pressing on me from all sides. I opened my mouth, desperate for some kind of response, but nothing came. My mind was racing too fast for words to form. All I could think was that I’d just been seen. By Tyra. In a way I wasn’t ready for.
Before I could even process what had just happened, I felt a shift in the air—a shift so sudden, so strong, that I almost didn’t register it until a solid figure stepped between Tyra and me.
Finley.
His presence was like a wall, strong and unyielding. He didn’t speak, but his eyes flashed with something fierce and protective as he glared at Tyra, warning her with every inch of his stance. “Back off,” he growled, his voice a low threat that made the space between us crackle with tension.
Tyra stepped back, but that damn smile didn’t leave her lips. It was a small thing, but it sent a chill down my spine. She was enjoying this, I could see it. But even as she backed off, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just unraveled something, something I wasn’t ready to face.
Tyra’s steps echoed down the hall as she turned to leave, but before she was completely out of sight, she shot one last look over her shoulder. Her voice was soft, almost teasing. “See you tomorrow, Phoenix. Or should I say, Phoebe?”
The words hung in the air, like an invisible weight pressing on me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. My heart was still pounding in my chest, still reeling from everything that had just happened.
I turned to Finley, but my throat tightened, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were searching mine like he was waiting for me to explain. The tension between us was palpable, thick with the questions I knew were swirling in his mind.
I couldn’t give him the answers he wanted. I couldn’t even explain it to myself.
The silence stretched between us, and I felt more exposed than I ever had before. I knew there was no way I could avoid it now—the truth, whatever it was, was closing in. And there was no way to stop it from unraveling.