Chapter 43
Jackson's POV
I stared at my phone screen, at the tiny smiley face emoji Ellie had just sent. See you tomorrow. Such a simple message, but it made something warm unfurl in my chest.
"Dude." Jake's voice cut through my thoughts. "You're doing it again."
I blinked, looking up to find my roommate emerging from the bathroom, towel around his neck, hair still damp. "Doing what?"
"That!" He pointed dramatically at my face. "That goofy smile thing. You look like you just won the lottery or something."
Before I could respond, Ryan's head popped down from the top bunk, upside-down and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Nah, that's not lottery face. That's love face. Definitely texting a girl."
Heat crept up my neck. I set my phone face-down on my desk and grabbed my anatomy textbook, pretending sudden fascination with the musculoskeletal system. "You're both idiots. I was checking course notifications."
"Course notifications." Jake crossed the room in three strides, trying to peek at my phone. "Right. Because course notifications make you blush like a tomato."
I angled my body to block his view, keeping my voice level even as my face burned hotter. "Back off."
"Come on, Jackson." Ryan swung down from his bunk with practiced ease, landing beside Jake. They exchanged one of those obnoxious best-friend looks that meant trouble. "We're roommates. Brothers in arms. You can tell us."
"There's nothing to tell." I flipped a page in my textbook, not actually reading a single word.
Jake plopped into the chair across from me, propping his feet on my desk. "Okay, okay. Subject change. Halloween's this weekend, right? You planning to actually participate this year, or are you gonna pull another white-coat-from-class non-costume?"
"That was one time," I muttered.
"It was last year," Ryan pointed out, settling cross-legged on Jake's bed. "And you literally just wore your normal clothes and said you were dressed as a med student. Which, Jackson buddy, you already are."
Despite myself, I felt my lips twitch. "It was efficient."
"It was boring." Jake grinned. "But I'm noticing something interesting. You've been different lately. More... I don't know, alive? And love makes people do crazy things. Like actually put effort into Halloween costumes."
I leveled him with a flat stare. "I'm not—"
"Oh! Speaking of Halloween—" Ryan grabbed his phone, scrolling rapidly. His face lit up with that particular brand of mischief that made me instantly wary. "Lily just posted in the dorm group chat. Let me read this... 'Ellie's planning a graveyard aesthetic for her setup. She bought this gorgeous antique tombstone decoration but literally nothing else. We're telling her she needs to at least dress as a ghost to match, but she says she hasn't decided yet.'"
My hand stopped mid-turn of the page.
Ryan's grin widened. "Huh. Interesting reaction there, Jackson."
"I didn't react," I said evenly, but my mind was already racing. Ellie. Halloween. Ghost costume. Normally, I couldn't care less about costume parties—the whole charade of dressing up and pretending to have fun at crowded events had never appealed to me. But the image of matching costumes with Ellie, of coordinating something together, of having an excuse to spend the evening near her... that actually sounded interesting. More than interesting.
"You totally reacted," Jake accused. "Your whole body just went statue-mode."
"And Lily's your source?" I asked Ryan, trying to redirect. "Since when are you two so buddy-buddy?"
Ryan shrugged. "She helped me crack that encrypted database for my genetics project last month. We've been chatting since then. She's wicked smart with code."
Great. Another connection in the web I was trying to carefully monitor. Ryan knowing Lily, who was Ellie's roommate, who knew...
"So," Jake leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Ellie Green, huh? The girl from your dance rehearsals? The one you keep casually not-mentioning?"
"I never mentioned her," I said.
"Exactly." Ryan pointed at me triumphantly. "You keep NOT mentioning her. Which means you're thinking about her. Which means—"
"I bet he's already planning to buy a matching ghost costume," Jake interrupted, barely containing his laughter. "Oh my God, we could help you shop! Ryan, think about it—Jackson in a white sheet, cutting little eye holes—"
"With chains!" Ryan added, nearly falling off the bed. "Rattling chains! 'Ooooh, I'm the Ghost of Unrequited Crushes Past—'"
"Okay, stop." The words came out sharper than I intended. I closed my textbook with controlled precision and met their eyes. "One more word, and the midterm study guides stay in my laptop. Encrypted. Where neither of you will ever find them."
The room went dead silent.
Jake's feet slowly lowered from my desk. Ryan's mouth clicked shut.
"You wouldn't," Jake said, but his voice wavered.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Jackson." Ryan pressed his palms together in mock prayer. "Jackson, buddy, pal, brother. You know your study guides are legendary. Half the med students live and die by your notes. You wouldn't actually—"
"Try me."
Jake lunged forward, grabbing my shoulder. "We're sorry! So, so sorry! Right, Ryan?"
"So sorry," Ryan echoed immediately. "Your emotional life is your business. We respect that. We honor that. We'll never speak of it again."
"Good." I reopened my textbook, satisfied.
For exactly thirty seconds, blessed silence reigned.
Then Jake cleared his throat. "So, uh, completely different subject..."
I sighed. "What?"
"Student Council stuff." He shifted in his chair, suddenly businesslike. "You know Martinez family? The real estate development people?"
Ryan perked up. "The ones with like, projects all over the country? My dad's firm did legal work for one of their commercial builds in Seattle."
"Yeah, those Martinez." Jake nodded. "They're doing this massive mixed-use development project on the outskirts of town. We're talking high-end retail, residential units, the works. Big money."
"And this concerns me how?" I asked, though I was already connecting dots I didn't like.
"Student Council's broke," Jake said bluntly. "Like, seriously broke. Next year's budget has a hole the size of Texas in it. So when the Martinez people mentioned they're doing a publicity event for the groundbreaking, and they're open to sponsorship opportunities..." He spread his hands. "We jumped on it."
"Let me guess," I said. "They want entertainment."
"Bingo. A performance at their promotional gala. Professional, polished, impressive enough to make them want to associate their brand with CVU." Jake grimaced. "Problem is, Music Society's already booked for the regional competition. Drama Club has their fall production the same weekend. And literally every other performing group either has conflicts or isn't up to the standard these people expect."
Something cold settled in my stomach. I knew where this was going.
"The Dance Society," I said quietly.
Jake blinked. "I—yeah, actually. But they never do Student Council fundraising events. Taylor already told me they're focused on competition season and—"
"The Dance Society can do it."
Both my roommates stared at me.
"Wait, what?" Ryan leaned forward. "Jackson, you never agree to external events. You're always saying the team needs to focus on—"
"I said we can do it." I kept my tone level, final. "Tell whoever's coordinating to send me the details."
Jake and Ryan exchanged bewildered glances.
"Okay, but..." Jake hesitated. "Why? What changed? You're literally the person who turned down that charity showcase last month because quote, 'it would disrupt training schedules.'"
I met his eyes steadily, offering nothing.
The silence stretched.
"Right." Jake slowly stood. "Okay. I'll... I'll let them know. They'll be thrilled."
"Details by tomorrow," I repeated.