Dom didn't look at her again for the rest of the lecture. But I did.
She took notes sporadically, wrote only when something struck her. I figured that whenever she looked blank, that wasn't it—she was just selective. She didn't waste energy like the others. She leaned back often, like her body knew when she needed to listen and when she didn't.
I studied her posture, her hands, the tension in her brow when Dom spoke about the symbolism of virginity as both a covenant and a curse. She didn't flinch. But she didn't nod, either.
A few more minutes into this, no one else in that room mattered. Not to me.
I wasn't paying attention to the topic anymore. Until I heard Dom ask Eleanor directly: "What do you think is more dangerous: someone who wants everything from you… or someone who wants nothing at all?"
What the hell kind of question was that? He didn't just throw that out for class discussion. He aimed it like a dart, and it rattled me more than I wanted to admit. Was he talking to her? Or was he talking to me?
With two minutes left in the lecture, I rose and stepped out.
From the upper level of the campus courtyard, I leaned against the railing and tracked Eleanor through the crowd. A group had gathered at the picnic tables—girls, mostly. Some were pretending not to notice the boys watching them. Others were clearly hoping someone did.
Eleanor was seated at the edge, legs crossed, notebook open beside her half-eaten rice paper roll. Her get-up was modest by appearance, but somehow still turned heads. Was it confidence that did that? Or was it indifference?
She wasn't trying. That's what made her so watchable.
In fact, I wasn't the only one watching her. A few tables down, two guys were half-whispering, eyes locked on her like they had a stake in whatever she was doing.
One of them nudged the other. "That's Eleanor, right? The one who dated that rugby captain last year?"
"I heard she dated the other one before that, too. I reckon she dumped them both," the second muttered. "Girl's got a type."
"Not us. But who knows?"
They snorted at that, but didn't stop watching her.
I turned away, a little disappointed. Maybe I wasn't special after all. Maybe everyone looked at her like that. She was just one of those girls—the kind people followed without even knowing why.
I glanced back toward the tables again. And of course someone else was watching her. He was just standing behind one of the columns with his hood drawn low, gaze fixed on her. Strange.
I blinked and he was gone.
Probably another admirer. Popular girls always drew the weird ones out. Right?
As I watched her from afar, I heard it again—Dom's voice, echoing inside my skull: "What do you think is more dangerous: someone who wants everything from you… or someone who wants nothing at all?"
This time, it felt like a challenge. Because I didn't know which one I was, or which one she was. I only knew that I couldn't read her as much as I could the others.
"El," a girl named Elise called out beside her. A little too loudly. "Don't you think that outfit's a bit much for a Monday?"
Eleanor didn't react. She picked at her roll. "It's comfortable."
"Oh, totally," Elise said with a painted smile. "Just saying—if I had your legs, I'd probably cover them more. Save the mystery for when it counts, you know?"
Eleanor didn't dignify her with a response. That's my girl.
My phone suddenly buzzed.
Dom: Aspen skipped his second class. Again.
Dom: If you find him, tell him I'm not playing babysitter this semester.
I exhaled, thumbed a vague reply back, and slid the phone into my pocket. Great—one more variable I didn't need right now.
Aspen had one job. Audit the business course. I explicitly asked to appear normal and stay low. But ask the boy to blend in and he'll throw a concert in the lecture hall instead.
It didn't take long to guess where he'd be. Golden Cross had a student theatre that wasn't in use until late semester productions, but the rear doors were always half-unlocked.
Sure enough, I found him on stage and barefoot. He was tuning a second-hand electric guitar, which definitely wasn't university property, while a small group of students lingered in the back rows. There were mostly girls, and a couple of artsy boys, too.
He strummed lazily, then glanced up.
"Brother," he grinned, cocky. "Did you come to critique my chords or rescue me from admirers?"
"I came to ask why the hell you're not in class."
Aspen shrugged, pushing his hair back. "It's boring. I already know how to lie, manipulate, and file taxes. What else is there?"
"You promised."
He smirked. "I did. And look—I'm technically still enrolled. That counts."
"You'll be dropped if Dom reports your absence. And if you're dropped, we'll—"
I paused because I realized I was in the midst of his "supporters".
"We can't afford that."
"Relax," he said, slinging the guitar behind him like a backpack. "I'll show up tomorrow. Maybe. Depends on if the muse strikes again."
A girl in the crowd giggled. Aspen winked.
His charm was reckless, magnetic—barely kept in check even when he wasn't shifting. I narrowed my eyes. "Are you using your face?"
He tilted his head. "Not entirely."
Which meant yes.
I exhaled. "You're not here to play rockstar."
"No," he said, stepping off the stage and onto the aisle floor. "But you are, aren't you?"
I stilled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He slung an arm around my shoulders, all teeth and swagger. "You're sniffing after that girl like she's the last breath of air in a burning building."
I shoved him off. "Stay out of it, Aspen."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Not likely. Though I gotta say—she smells foul."
I blinked. "What?"
"I dunno. Her scent makes my skin crawl."
That threw me.
He shrugged. "There's something wrong with the way she smells. Like it's trying to hide something underneath."
I studied him carefully. Aspen wasn't the type to be unsettled by much. If anything, he was usually too curious for his own good. But now? He looked genuinely repulsed.
He rolled his shoulders. "Anyway. I'll show up to class tomorrow. Maybe. Just don't expect me to sit near that."
With a lazy wave to the girls still watching him, Aspen slipped out the side door—leaving me alone in the dim theatre, where the musty theatre air was still thick with something other than dust. Something I couldn't explain.
Dom's vague question, and that smell Aspen couldn't stand? It only made me more curious.