Chapter 25 Having Fun
“Lila?” a familiar voice called.
She exhaled part relief and part a new wave of fear.
She opened the door and Professor Mercer stood in the doorway, one hand still on the frame. The hall light cast a soft gold rim around him. He smiled faintly, that same gentle expression that made people trust him instantly.
“I knocked twice,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Her heartbeat didn’t slow. “ Prof, what are you doing here?”
“I was meeting with the department head,” Mercer said easily. “I saw your light on.”
His eyes drifted to the box on the desk. “You look shaken. Is something wrong?”
Lila hesitated. Her instinct screamed no, but she couldn’t lie fast enough. “It’s nothing.”
She opened her mouth to ask him something but Mercer stepped inside. His tone softened. “You need to be careful, Lila. Everyone’s on edge lately. The police think there’s some serial killer at work.”
He gave a low sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Campus feels like it’s holding its breath.”
Lila swallowed. “I’m fine,” she lied again.
His gaze flickered to her face to the faint dark circles under her eyes, the tension in her posture. His voice dropped, almost tender. “You remind me of your sister sometimes. She had that same look trying to carry too much.”
The words hit like a needle. “I know, right?”
Lila replied flatly.
Mercer watched her for a moment longer. Then he said quietly, “I’ll walk you to the dorm after class tomorrow. It’s getting dark earlier around here. Just don’t trust anyone you don’t understand yet.”
There was something deliberate in the way he said it, like the words were meant to mean more than they did.
He left before she could answer. The door closed with a soft click.
Lila stood in the stillness, staring at the door. She wanted to ask him how he got into the dorm. How did he know her room, but she didn't get a chance to do so.
The room seemed smaller now, the shadows longer. She turned back to the desk. The photo lay open where she’d left it, Serena's smile bright and oblivious, Beckett’s shadow looming behind her.
She looked closer. Her sister’s eyes were fixed on the camera but Beckett’s weren’t. She placed the picture on her desk and sat on her bed. Maybe it was time for her to leave here, she was getting more scared about everything. She wasn't even sure what would happen to her in the next few minutes, she might be dead before the end of the semester. Silently, she wished she had gone out with Ruby.
The next few days blurred into something almost ordinary.
Classes, cafeteria chatter, the thrum of students rushing between buildings with steaming coffee cups and half-finished essays. For once, Lila allowed herself to be carried along with it, the noise, the movement, and the illusion that life went on.
The morning air was crisp and bright, sunlight spilling over the quad in gold streaks. Lila walked beside Ruby, who was balancing her camera in one hand and a muffin in the other, talking a mile a minute about her new photography assignment.
“Candid emotion,” Ruby said, tearing off a piece of muffin. “Mercer wants shots that show the truth. You know, like fear, joy, jealousy, and the whole messy spectrum. So obviously, I’m stalking people with my lens now.”
Lila smiled faintly. “Sounds invasive.”
Ruby grinned. “It’s called art, babe.”
They found a spot on the wide stone steps outside the art building, where sunlight warmed the marble and laughter from nearby students echoed like music. Ruby unpacked a pint of strawberry ice cream from her bag.
“You seriously brought ice cream to class?” Lila asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ruby shrugged, unbothered. “If I have to listen to Mercer ramble about the ethics of photojournalism for two hours, I deserve ice cream.”
She dug her spoon in and offered some to Lila. “Come on. You look like you haven’t had sugar since the Industrial Revolution.”
Lila hesitated, then laughed. “You’re insane.”
“Thank you,” Ruby said proudly. “It’s my defining trait.”
Lila took a bite, it was cold, sweet, and perfectly ordinary. For a second, she let herself enjoy the simplicity of everything, the sunlight, the hum of conversation, and the easy company she had.
Ruby leaned back on her elbows, tilting her face toward the sky. “You know, I think I’m finally settling in here. The first few weeks were awful, my former roommate bailed before I even met her.”
Lila’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth.
Ruby didn’t notice. “Apparently she dropped out. Said the campus freaked her out. Something about strange noises in the dorms. But honestly, I’ve been fine.”
“Fine,” Lila echoed.
Ruby turned her head, smiling. “Yeah. I like it here. The people are weird in the best way. And you, you’re a mystery I’m determined to solve.”
Lila blinked. “A mystery?”
“Totally. You’ve got that whole brooding artist thing down. Dark eyes, secret past, and you probably write poetry at 3 a.m.”
Lila laughed, the sound surprising her. “I don’t write poetry.”
“Lies,” Ruby said, pretending to jot notes in the air. “Denial, that's step one of all tragic heroines.”
“Tragic?”
Ruby smirked. “Come on, Lila. You have tragic energy. It’s a compliment.”
Lila rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
Ruby grinned. “And yet, here we are having ice cream at 11 a.m. on a Wednesday. You’re welcome.”
They lingered there, sunlight painting everything gold. For a rare moment, the world didn’t feel heavy.
After class, they wandered toward the photography wing, Ruby’s sacred ground. The building smelled like chemicals and ink, the faint scent of photo paper mingling with dust and coffee.
Ruby led the way down a narrow hallway lined with framed student work. Black-and-white portraits, landscapes, and abstract light studies. Lila slowed in front of one, a girl laughing mid-spin, her hair a blur of movement.
“She looks alive,” Lila murmured.
Ruby smiled. “That’s the point. Catching someone in motion, that's when they’re real.”
Lila studied Ruby as she spoke, the way her eyes glowed when she talked about her craft. “You really love this, don’t you?”
Ruby’s smile softened. “It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. When I’m behind the lens, everything else goes quiet.”
Lila nodded. She understood that she needed something that silenced the noise.
They stopped outside the darkroom. Through the small red-lit window, Lila could see shapes moving, other students developing film with laughter muffled behind the door.
Ruby looked thoughtful. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you ever feel like some moments happen twice?” Ruby asked. “Like déjà vu, but heavier like you’ve been somewhere before, or someone’s watching it happen again, later?”
Lila’s pulse stuttered. “Why would you ask that?”
Ruby laughed, embarrassed. “Sorry that sounded creepy, didn’t it? I just meant, sometimes when I take photos, I swear I’ve seen the scene before. It’s weird.”
Lila forced a small smile. “Yeah, it should be weird.”
They joined the other students to develop films and discuss photography as a living passion. Lila swore she felt alive and happy, she no longer received the petals and chocolates. It felt like the nightmare was over and she was fully awake and back to reality.
Later, they grabbed coffee and sat under the oak trees behind the library, watching students pass.
Ruby was flipping through her camera roll, showing Lila some of her shots. “This one’s my favorite,” she said, handing the camera over.
Lila looked. It was a photo of the campus, sunlight filtering through leaves, a couple sitting close on a bench looking peaceful.
Then Ruby swiped to another. “And this, the reflection shot.”
Lila tilted her head. It was them, sitting on the stone steps earlier. Ruby mid-laugh, Lila smirking beside her. The sunlight caught the edge of Lila’s hair, turning it bronze.
It was beautiful.
Ruby grinned. “See? This is proof you can smile.”
Lila chuckled, cheeks warming. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Too late.” Ruby held the camera up again. “Come on, one more for memory.”
Lila groaned. “You’re relentless.”
Ruby leaned in close, their faces nearly touching, and snapped the shot before Lila could protest.
The shutter clicked, freezing the moment.
When Ruby looked at the preview, she frowned for half a second like something on the screen caught her off guard.