Chapter 19: Nineteen

I was running late.

Not dramatically late, but late enough to be doing that brisk walk that is almost a jog that screams I definitely meant to leave earlier but life had other plans. My hair was still a little damp from my shower, and I was gripping my notebook close to my chest as I walked fastly.

The sun was so bright because it was almost noon, and I hadn’t had my coffee yet.

As I rounded the corner toward the building, I slowed. Whenever i ran through college I was always worried I would bump into someone and cause a scene.

Declan was standing just outside the entrance, near the benches under a tree that was seeing its old days. And he was not alone.

There was a woman with him. She was laughing at something he said, one hand resting lightly on his forearm. Her nails were painted red. She was really tall, even without heels. And her hair was gorgeous - curly and thick and glossy. Like a magazine cover.

I couldn’t hear the conversation, but I didn’t need to.

I knew that laugh. I knew that hand. I knew that lean.

She was flirting with him.

And he wasn’t exactly pulling away.

My steps faltered, but I didn’t stop. I just walked past them like I didn’t see anything. Anyway, it was none of my business.

But in my inattentive state, I accidentally dropped my notebook. It fell to the floor with a slapping sound. Declan and the woman’s turned to me. I pretended not to notice. I just bent down and picked up my notebook, and began to walk inside class. His voice caught just as I reached the doors.

“Miss Whitefield.”

I turned, slowly. Calm. Composed. Completely, totally not thrown. Not like my heart was ready to come out of my chest.

“Hi,” I said.

His eyes flickered, just slightly, like he wasn’t sure how to read my face. “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” I faked a laugh, “Haha, I’m so clumsy.”

The woman beside him glanced between us with raised eyebrows and a small, assessing smirk. She didn't move her hand from his arm.

“This is Cora Hunterton,” he said, gesturing. “She teaches in the Political Science department. She has a great elective next summer you might want to consider.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Hunterton,” I said, with what I hoped passed for a polite smile. I turned back to Declan. “Class is starting.”

He hesitated for a second. “I’ll be right in.”

I nodded once and walked inside, the weight of it all weighing on my chest heavily.

It wasn’t that I was angry.

Not exactly.

And its not like I was jealous.

He was allowed to talk to whoever he wanted. To flirt. To smile. To be flirted with.

I slipped into my usual seat, pulled out my notebook, and told myself it didn’t matter.

But I already knew I wouldn’t be able to hear a single word of the lecture.

As he began to teach, I couldn’t focus.

The words on the slides might as well have been in a different language, and Declan’s voice faded into the background, like static. I sat stiffly in my chair, fingers digging into my pen, pretending to take notes but barely hearing a thing. Jacob and Mara were seated with me, and they were deeply engrossed in the lecture. I had read this material and had thoughts on it in the morning, but now…

Every time he moved across the room, I could still see her.

Cora. Her red nails. The way she touched his arm like it was hers to touch. The way he let her.

I hated how ridiculous I felt. How juvenile. How jealous.

But there it was, and this crazy, alien, consuming feeling was filling my insides. It felt like my skin was crawling, and my vision was hazy with the vision of him with her.

He hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really. But after everything; after the kiss, the quiet breakfast, the words he’d said about how things could’ve been different; it stung.

Friends, he had said. God. How could I be friends, or even be cordial with him after all that had transpired? The positivity and hope I had felt after that breakfast was slowly crashing into nothingness.

God, my heart hurt.

Worse than it should have.

He looked at me once during the lecture, just a flicker of a glance while responding to a question Mara had asked. Our eyes met, briefly, and I looked away before he could read anything on my face.

Because there was something. I could feel it radiating off me.

Jealousy, disappointment… stupid, raw hope.

And I didn’t want him to see it.

I kept my head lowered until class ended, pretending to take notes when in reality I was just drawing circles on paper.

The scrape of chairs, the shuffling of students; everyone getting up, laughing, zipping bags, shook me awake. Jacob lightly touched my back and gestured to come out.

I moved quickly, shoving my notebook into my tote and hoping to slip out before I was interrupted.

“Miss Whitefield,” Declan said, low and quiet, just as I reached the door.

I paused but didn’t turn. “Yes?”

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

I finally looked at him. He was leaning against the edge of his desk, arms folded, brow furrowed. I took a few steps toward him. We waited until everyone had filtered out.

I straightened. “What is it?”

He seemed to be taken aback by my tone. “You seemed a little off today,” he said gently. “I just wanted to check in. If there’s anything I can do. Are you struggling with the material, or?”

“I’m fine,” I cut in, too fast. Too sharp.

He blinked. “Okay.”

I exhaled slowly, trying to dial it back, but the tension was already stretched too tight between us.

“I’m just tired,” I added, forcing my voice flat. “I’ll catch up with you. Thank you for the offer.”

He didn’t move. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

The air felt heavy again, like it always did around him, but this time there was no softness under it. Just something unspoken and cold.

I turned before he could say anything else and walked out of the room without looking back.