CHAPTER SIXTY TWO

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO
Chapter Sixty-Two

“Just admit it already,” Clara whispered, her grin mischievous as she leaned closer to Aurelia.

They sat cross-legged outside their tent, the campfire glow faint in the distance, their voices low but full of energy.

Aurelia frowned, hugging her knees. “Admit what?”

“That Caelum is crushing on you.” Clara smirked, eyes dancing.

Aurelia nearly choked. “What? Clara, don’t start. That’s not even funny.”

“I’m not joking,” Clara pressed, nudging her shoulder. “Think about it. Out of everyone here, who did he pick as a partner? You. Who does he actually talk to? You. Who did he wrap his jacket around after swimming? You.”

Aurelia shook her head quickly, cheeks heating. “That means nothing. He probably just—he’s just… I don’t know. Being decent.”

“Decent?” Clara snorted. “Please. Caelum doesn’t look at anyone, doesn’t even blink at Chloe, and that girl throws herself at him every five minutes.

But when it’s you suddenly he notices. Suddenly he moves.”

“You’re reading too much into it.” Aurelia tried to sound firm, but her voice cracked slightly. She pulled at the grass by her feet. “Besides, even if he was—which he isn’t—I’m not interested. End of story.”

Clara only grinned wider. “Uh-huh. Keep saying that. But you should see the way he watches you when you’re not looking. That guy’s eyes follow you like—”

“Clara!” Aurelia shoved her lightly, laughing despite herself. “Stop it already.”

Unbeknownst to them, Piper stood just a few feet away, hidden by the dim outline of another tent. Her phone in hand, recording every word.

Her jaw was tight, her lips pressed in a thin line. Hearing Clara tease Aurelia about Caelum made her stomach churn.

By the time she slipped away, Aurelia and Clara had gone back to chatting about random things. Piper’s mind, however, was already racing. She didn’t hesitate.

Back inside her tent, she played the recording once, smirked, then uploaded it anonymously to the school group chat.

Within minutes, the notifications blew up.

> “Did you hear that? Aurelia has a crush on Caelum?”
“LOL Clara said he’s crushing back.”
“This is too good.”
“Chloe’s gonna lose her mind.”
“Aurelia is such a simp. Imagine crushing on someone who doesn’t even care about you.”

Chloe’s comment came not long after:

> “Called it. She’s been trying too hard to get his attention. Pathetic.”

More laughing emojis followed. More “simp” comments. The group was buzzing, and Aurelia had no idea.

Caelum, however, noticed.

He had been sitting by himself, far from the chatter of the others, staring at the ground like he always did when his thoughts got too heavy.

He hated those little devices humans clung to, hated the endless noise they carried. But a soft vibration against his pocket made him fish it out.

He barely used the thing, but tonight, curiosity pulled him in.

The first thing that greeted him was the flood of messages. His name. Aurelia’s name. And a voice recording.

He pressed play. Clara’s laughter spilled out, followed by her teasing words: “Just admit it. Caelum is crushing on you.”

Then Aurelia’s flustered denials.

Then more laughter.

Caelum’s brows drew together. He scrolled through the replies, reading the mockery, the jabs, Chloe’s sharp comment. His jaw tightened.

He wasn’t the type to care about gossip. But the words—they were tearing at Aurelia, even if she didn’t know it yet. And for some reason, he didn’t like it.

Without thinking too much, he typed. His fingers hovered, but once he began, he didn’t stop.

The words glared back at everyone from the group chat:

“Yes, I’m crushing. Is that a problem?”

For a heartbeat, silence. A pause that stretched, long enough for everyone staring at their screens to wonder if they’d read it wrong.

Then the flood came.

> “Wait, WHAT?!”
“No, no, no—this has to be fake.”
“Somebody hacked his account, right?”
“No way he actually typed that.”

Chloe’s hands trembled as she held her phone, eyes widening so much it almost hurt. She blinked rapidly, reading the message again and again, hoping the letters would shift into something else.

Anything else. But they stayed there, sharp and clear, mocking her.

Her chest tightened. “No,” she whispered under her breath, voice cracking. “He can’t… he wouldn’t…”

Meanwhile, Liz and Mandy sat nearby, both with their mouths hanging open. Liz let out a laugh—more out of shock than amusement. “Oh my God. He really said it.”

“About Aurelia?” Mandy whispered, her tone dripping with disbelief. “Her? Out of everyone here?”

Their voices weren’t exactly loud, but they carried. A few other students around them snickered, muttering under their breath.

“Did you see that? Caelum actually confessed.”

“Never thought I’d live to read the day.”
“And it’s Aurelia, of all people. The quiet one.”

Phones buzzed across the camp like wildfire, the glow of screens lighting up faces in the dark.

Groups of students huddled together, showing each other, gasping, laughing nervously, some already typing out their own comments in the group chat.

> “Ohhhh this camp just got interesting.”
“Clara called it earlier—she said he looks at Aurelia differently.”
“Chloe’s gonna be sick.”
“Simp or not, Aurelia won. Game over.”

Chloe’s face burned red, but not from embarrassment alone. It was rage. A deep, ugly heat that spread from her chest to her fingertips.

She wanted to throw the phone into the fire pit, wanted to scream, wanted to claw that smug little answer right off the screen.

The comments rolled in, one after the other, some in disbelief, some in pure chaos.

Caelum dropped the phone back into his lap and leaned against the wooden pole of the tent. His face didn’t change much, but his mind was restless.

He didn’t care for their words. He only wanted them to stop dragging Aurelia’s name through the mud.

Piper sat in the shadows by her tent, phone still in hand, her thumb trembling over the screen

She had expected laughter. She had expected Aurelia’s name to be dragged through the mud, to see her cheeks burn red with shame the next morning when the whole camp looked at her differently.

That was the plan.

But that wasn’t what happened.

The group chat, which should’ve been mocking Aurelia, was now filled with a different kind of noise.

> “Ohhh this is official. Caelum said it himself.”

“I’m still shocked. He never types, never replies, and the first time he does—it’s THIS?”
“Aurelia got the coldest guy in class to admit feelings. She’s untouchable now.”

Piper’s stomach dropped. She scrolled faster, her eyes widening as more comments poured in.

Instead of Aurelia being the joke, Aurelia was being lifted higher suddenly the girl everyone whispered about with wide eyes, the girl Chloe couldn’t compete with.

This wasn’t the script Piper had written in her head.

Her nails dug into her palm as she gripped the phone harder. She wanted Aurelia humiliated, not protected.

She wanted her exposed, not shielded by Caelum’s name. Yet here it was—his one sharp line, typed out in a few careless seconds, undoing everything Piper had tried to build.

She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t expected him.

And Aurelia? Aurelia hadn’t even seen the post yet. She was still inside her tent with Clara, clueless, laughing at some silly comment her friend had made.

And worst of all, it seemed like fate itself kept throwing Caelum and Aurelia together no matter what Piper—or Chloe, or anyone—did to stop it.