Chapter 24 JUNIPER
The campus looked exactly the same as it always did — students rushing between buildings with backpacks slung over shoulders, laughter echoing across the quad, the distant thud of a bass line from some frat house party that started too early. Nothing had changed.
Except everything had.
I clutched the folded application in my hand like it was a live wire.
The paper was slightly crumpled from how tightly I’d been gripping it since I left the hospital this morning.
Drop-out form.
Simple black ink on white paper. Just a few signatures and I could walk away from tuition, from classes, from the future I’d been scraping together for years.
Dad was still in the hospital.
The doctors had confirmed it yesterday — Stage III pancreatic cancer.
Aggressive.
They wanted to start chemo as soon as possible.
The financial counselor had been kind but honest: even with every payment plan and assistance program, the bills were going to bury us.
I couldn’t keep pretending I could juggle full-time college and enough shifts to cover it. One of us had to bend.
So here I was, walking toward the registrar’s office like I was heading to my own execution.
Every step reminded me how exhausted I was — two days of barely sleeping in a hospital chair, surviving on vending machine coffee and sheer stubbornness.
I kept my head down, hood up, trying to disappear into the crowd.
The last thing I needed was small talk or questions.
I just wanted to hand in the form, go back to the hospital, and figure out how to keep us afloat without falling apart.
I was almost at the administration building when I collided with a solid chest.
Papers scattered across the pavement.
“Shit—sorry,” I muttered automatically, dropping to my knees to gather them before anyone could see the bold header at the top:
Application for Withdrawal.
A pair of expensive sneakers stepped into my line of sight — pristine white, the kind that probably cost more than my entire month’s rent and groceries combined.
I looked up, dread already pooling in my stomach.
Of course.
Of all the people on this entire campus, of all the moments in my life, it had to be him.
Knox Reyes.
He crouched down, long fingers picking up one of the fallen sheets before I could snatch it away. His eyes scanned the page, brow furrowing in genuine confusion.
“Drop-out application?” His voice was low, surprised.
“You’re dropping out?”
I yanked the paper from his hand, cheeks burning with a mix of humiliation and pure irritation.
“None of your business.”
He didn’t move, still crouched in front of me.
Dark hair combed neat, black button-down open at the throat, sleeves half-rolled in that effortless way that screamed money and privilege.
He wasn’t from our world.
He watched me like I was an equation he was trying to solve.
No flinch.
No smirk.
Just a steady, clinical assessment that made my skin prickle.
I stood up quickly, clutching the papers to my chest like a shield.
He rose too, towering over me, but he didn’t step aside.
“Why are you always so bitter?” he asked, sounding genuinely shocked, like the idea that someone wouldn’t immediately swoon at his feet was incomprehensible.
“I asked a simple question.”
Then he flashed that famous Knox Reyes smile — the one that probably made half the campus melt. The charm offensive. The one that said “I’m irresistible, trust me.”
My stomach twisted.
Heat rushed to my face, a mix of anger and something dangerously close to embarrassment.
I hated how easily he could do this — turn on the charm like a switch and expect the world to fall at his feet.
I wasn’t the world.
I was just a girl trying to survive the worst week of her life, and he was standing in my way like he had any right to.
I crossed my arms, refusing to let the smile affect me.
“Bitter? I’m not bitter. I’m busy. And exhausted. And currently dealing with things that don’t involve your ego or your need to be adored by every girl on campus. So forgive me if I don’t drop to my knees and thank you for the sudden interest.”
He blinked, the smile faltering for half a second, like no one had ever turned down the Knox Reyes charm offensive before.
“Wow,” he said, almost laughing. “Most girls usually—”
“I’m not most girls,” I cut in, stepping around him.
“And right now, I have actual problems that don’t involve your need for attention. So if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”
I felt myself tearing up, the sting sharp behind my eyes.
No. Not here. Not in front of him.
“Come on, at least tell me why you’re dropping out,” he pressed, voice still trying for that easy confidence.
“You seem smart. Like, really smart. Dropping out doesn’t fit the picture.”
“Go away.” I brushed him off and spun on my heel, rushing toward the nearest girls’ bathroom, papers still clutched tight to my chest like a shield. I hoped the door would slam shut behind me and he’d finally take the hint.
He didn’t.
The door swung open again almost immediately.
Heavy footsteps followed me in.
Seriously? Of all the places on campus, he had to follow me into the girls’ bathroom like some entitled shadow I couldn’t shake.
I tried to turn away, to grab a pen, or anything in my bag that could hide the tears threatening to spill.
My hands shook. I had an image to protect — the tough, sarcastic girl who didn’t cry in public, who didn’t let boys like Knox Reyes see her break.
He moved before I could.
Big hands bracketed my hips and lifted me, placing me on top of the sink counter.
He smelled clean and expensive, something crisp with pine, like winter in a bank vault. I stiffened.
What the fuck.
I adjusted my glasses with a shaky finger, trying to buy myself even a second of composure, then glared at him through the lenses.
“Get out,” I snapped, voice sharper than I felt.
“This is the girls’ bathroom. If anyone sees you in here, my reputation is going to take a hit I can’t afford right now. So do us both a favor and leave.”
Knox didn’t move.
Instead, that infuriating cocky smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth — the one that probably worked on every other girl on campus.
“Girls love it when I corner them,” he said, voice low and teasing, like he thought this was some kind of game.
“Especially in places they’re not supposed to be caught in.”
I glared harder, even as I felt the tears burning hotter behind my eyes. I refused to let them fall.
Not in front of him.
“Oh, wow,” I said, my tone dripping with mocking sweetness.
“How original. The big, bad quarterback corners a girl in the bathroom and expects her to melt. Newsflash, Reyes — I’m not one of your usual fan girls. I don’t swoon. I don’t giggle. And right now, I’m two seconds away from kneeing you in the balls if you don’t back the hell up.”
He blinked, the smirk faltering for a split second, like he wasn’t used to anyone pushing back this hard. Good. Let him be shocked.
I tried to slide off the counter, but his hands were still on my hips, holding me in place — not hard, but firm enough that I couldn’t easily escape without making a scene.
A sharp knock rattled the toilet door.
My heart jumped into my throat.
“If you’re done, can you come out? I need to go,” a girl shouted from outside, voice impatient.
I gave Knox a what-the-fuck look, eyes wide.
“You locked the fucking door?”
He shrugged, completely unbothered, that cocky smirk returning like this was all some hilarious game to him.
“Yes. I needed to talk to you.”
The doorknob rattled harder.
“Hello… open the damn door,” the girl outside called again, sounding more impatient now.
“Fuck off!” Knox called out, loud enough for her to hear.
“We’re busy.”
I stared at him in horror, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Busy? They’ll think we’ve been… No. No. No…”
“Knox… is that you?” the girl outside asked, her voice shifting from annoyance to curiosity.
“Yes… now go take a piss somewhere else,” he replied, still sounding annoyingly amused.
“You’re unbelievable,” I whispered-hissed, glaring daggers at him.
He leaned in a little closer, that trademark smirk deepening, the one that probably worked on every other girl on campus.
“Usually girls say I’m unforgettable. Not unbelievable. But I’ll take it.”
let out a short, bitter laugh, the sound sharp even to my own ears.
“"You’re actually incredibly forgettable. The only thing memorable about you is how quickly you turn every conversation into something about your ego. The only thing unforgettable about this encounter will be how fast I’m going to knee you in the balls so hard you’ll remember me in your nightmares… "
He blinked, the smirk faltering for half a second, like no one had ever turned down the Knox Reyes charm offensive before.
Good.
Let him be shocked.
“Rude… but anyway,” he said, ignoring my threat like it was cute, that cocky smirk still firmly in place.
“Let’s get to the main point. Why are you dropping out of college?”
Before I could answer, the squeal I knew would come penetrated through the door, the giggle racing down the hall like wildfire.
“Oh my God, Knox is in the girls’ toilets and he’s locked it,” someone stage-whispered.
“He’s probably fucking some girl in there right now.”
The whispers spread instantly — giggles, shocked gasps, phones probably already out recording. I could hear footsteps hurrying closer, more voices joining the chorus.
I closed my eyes, mortified heat flooding my face. Perfect. Just perfect.
Now the entire campus would think I was another one of Knox Reyes’ quick bathroom conquests.
And I still had to drop out.
Knox, for once, actually looked a little surprised by the commotion.
His smirk faltered for half a second before he shrugged again, like this was just another Tuesday.
“Guess everyone thinks we’re fucking,” he muttered, almost amused, like this was all some hilarious game.
I shoved at his chest, voice a furious whisper.
“This is not funny. Get out there and fix it. Tell them nothing happened, you moron.”
He didn’t move.
Instead, he looked at me with those stupidly intense eyes, the cocky mask slipping just enough for something almost like concern to show through.
“Speckles—”
“My name is not Speckles,” I hissed, but of course he ignored me.
“Why are you really dropping out?”
I glared at him, tears still burning behind my eyes, the weight of the last few days crashing down all at once.
“Like I said, it’s none of your damn business,” I snapped, pushing him away and sliding down from the sink counter.
He grabbed my hand before I could storm past him, his grip firm but not painful.
“Why are you dropping out?”
I yanked my hand back, but he didn’t let go completely.
The frustration boiled over.
“Not all of us were born with a golden spoon and trillions to our name,” I said bitterly.
“Some of us actually have to fight to make ends meet.”
He frowned, still not letting go.
“Then why drop out of college? Get a job tomorrow—”
“I have two fucking jobs already!” I exploded, the words tearing out of me.
“But it’s not enough. My dad has Stage III pancreatic cancer.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
The gossip outside the door faded into background noise.
Knox stared at me, his usual cocky expression completely gone, replaced by genuine shock.
“Do you hear me?” I snapped, the words finally breaking free, raw and trembling.
“My dad has cancer. Stage III pancreatic!!"