Chapter 46
Ellie's POV
The morning sun barely broke through the mist when Dad loaded the last bag into his dark blue Jeep. I adjusted my CVU hoodie and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail, watching him work with the methodical efficiency that came from years of preparing for unexpected situations.
He slid into the driver's seat. "Ready, sweetheart?"
"Ready." I buckled in, and he started the engine.
As we pulled out of Mapleton, Dad switched on the radio to an indie folk station. The familiar melody of a song I'd loved since middle school filled the car, and some of the tension in my shoulders eased.
"Your mom outdid herself with those blueberry pancakes this morning," Dad said, glancing at me with a smile. "I swear she added extra butter just to sabotage my workout routine."
I laughed. "You ate three, Dad. That's on you."
"Three and a half," he corrected solemnly. "Let's be accurate about my sins."
We fell into easy conversation—the new coffee shop opening downtown, Mom's latest garden project, whether the Packers had any chance this season. Normal. Safe. Exactly what I needed after weeks of drama at school.
But as we merged onto the highway toward Cedar View, I caught Dad's fingers tapping the steering wheel in that particular rhythm that meant he was thinking about something specific. Something he wanted to ask but wasn't sure how.
"So," he started carefully, "how's school actually been? Your mom mentioned some... complications."
My mind flashed through everything that had happened over the past few months—the betrayal, the incident, the confrontations, the dance performance. "It's fine."
"Ellie."
I sighed. "Okay, it's been complicated. But I'm handling it."
"The Miller boy?"
"Is no longer my problem." The words came out sharper than intended, and I softened my tone. "Sorry. I mean—yes, that situation is resolved. We're not friends anymore, and I'm okay with that."
We drove in silence for a while after that, watching the landscape shift from small-town streets to open highway. I leaned my head against the window, letting the vibration of the road lull me into a kind of meditation.
By the time we reached CVU's main entrance—Oak Avenue, with its signature autumn leaves creating a golden canopy—the clock read 9:45. Students streamed across campus, laughing with friends.
"I'll help you unload," Dad offered, pulling into a visitor spot.
"It's okay, I can—"
I stopped mid-sentence. A silver-gray Audi was parked just ahead of us, and I watched Lucas step out of the driver's side.
He moved to the passenger door, opening it with careful attention. Samantha emerged, her blonde hair catching the morning light, and she immediately reached for his hand.
Lucas's head turned toward our Jeep. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second.
His expression shifted—surprise, then something almost like hope. His hand lifted slightly, as if to wave or acknowledge me. But the gesture froze, became awkward and uncertain.
Samantha noticed immediately. Her gaze followed his, landing on me, and her fingers tightened visibly around his arm. She said something I couldn't hear, tugging him toward the dormitory with deliberate force.
Lucas looked back once. Just once. And in his eyes, I saw a mess of emotions—guilt, confusion, maybe regret. Then Samantha pulled harder, and he let himself be led away, his shoulders hunched in that defeated posture I'd learned to recognize.
"Well," Dad said beside me, and I jumped slightly, having forgotten he was watching. "That was enlightening."
I turned to find him wearing the most unimpressed expression I'd ever seen on his face. His lip curled slightly, his eyes narrowing in unmistakable disapproval.
"Dad—"
"No, no. Don't mind me." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Just cataloging that particular display of backbone for future reference."
Despite everything, I snorted. "Stop."
"I'm just saying, if I ever acted like that with your mother—literally running away from acknowledging someone—she would've left me in a snowbank."
"It's complicated."
"It's cowardly." He said it matter-of-factly, without heat. "But not your problem anymore, right?"
"Right."
We sat there for another moment, and I could feel the weight of his concern. His protective instinct was probably screaming at him to march over there and give Lucas a piece of his mind. But he wouldn't. He respected my boundaries too much for that.
Then Dad surprised me.
"Hey," he said suddenly, turning to face me with a deliberately casual expression. "I haven't seen your campus properly yet. Mind if I hang around for a bit? See where my brilliant daughter spends her days?"
I blinked. "You... want to tour CVU? Now?"
"Why not?" He checked his watch. "It's not even nine. I don't have to be back until this evening. Unless you don't want your old man cramping your style."
The offer was so transparently aimed at distracting me from the Lucas encounter that it should've been annoying. Instead, warmth flooded through me. He was trying. Trying to turn an uncomfortable moment into something better.
"I don't have class until after lunch," I admitted. "And I know you're dying to see Pioneer Arena. You've been asking about the basketball facilities since I got accepted."
His face lit up—genuine enthusiasm mixing with relief that I'd accepted the deflection. "Excellent! I've been wanting to see those courts since—" He stopped mid-sentence, and I saw the flicker of something darker cross his expression. Since I thought Lucas would be playing there with me someday. The unspoken words hung between us for a heartbeat.
But then Dad shook his head, deliberately brightening. "Well, no point dwelling on disappointments. Let's go see what all the fuss is about!"
We climbed out of the Jeep, and I grabbed my bag. The morning air was crisp, carrying that particular autumn smell of fallen leaves and approaching winter.
"So," Dad said as we started walking toward the main path, "give me the tour. What am I looking at here?"