A smirk tugged at my lips as I endeavored to conceal my embarrassment upon witnessing his reaction.
It was evident that he wasn't receptive to the notion of me harboring romantic feelings for him. His demeanor gave no indication of joy upon hearing my accidental confession, prompting me to swiftly retract my words. I needed to redirect the accidental course my feelings had taken. It was possible he cared for someone else.
Someone who wasn't me.
If this was unrequited love, I wanted no part in it—I feared being smothered by my own emotions.
I wished it were as easy to erase these feelings for Friedan as it was to blink an eye. I could just shut my eyes to avoid things I didn't wish to witness, yet my heart remained unyielding, persistently feeling things I didn't want it to.
I mustered a restrained smile as I gazed at his handsome face, then I spoke, "We grew up almost like siblings, Friedan. I love you like a brother. Do you not love me as your sister?"
His expression twisted into confusion, as if he was expecting something—a response that I failed to provide. His eyes searched my face, seeking answers in the movements of my facial muscles. "I care for you more than you'll ever know," he chuckled, his minty breath wafting towards me once again. "Of course I love you, you are my little sister, Kiera. I may not say it often, but my actions always convey how much I care about you. If I falter, Dad would undoubtedly pull me over to where he is right now."
I managed a forced smile, my chest feeling heavy, burdened by emotions almost too weighty to bear. I was a sorrowful figure dancing before the man I loved, a man who would never reciprocate those feelings in the same way.
"Happy birthday, Kiera," he whispered softly, enveloping me in a tight embrace—a bear hug. His warmth seeped into my body. I closed my eyes and returned the hug. Perhaps I would leave my feelings for him hidden away.
It was a choice that shielded me from further pain.
Perhaps.
***
I strode into the school grounds earlier than usual, avoiding the kitchen like the plague. I refused to risk an accidental encounter with Friedan. The battle against my feelings for him was ongoing, seemingly endless. While my avoidance might raise eyebrows, it was a small price to pay for my sanity. I left him a carefully penned note expressing gratitude for his delightful surprise last night and falsely claimed an early school start due to an impending project.
A web of lies.
My note served as a shield, a means to dodge an awkward moment with him, and an attempt to distance myself from the feelings that refused to loosen their grip. We hadn't even formalized our relationship, there were no commitments, and he hadn't even officially pursued me, yet my heart was bruised by the simple act of moving on from a feeling that was mine alone.
He would never be mine.
That reality was etched into my mind when he professed his love for me as a sister. Every tender and harsh action he'd ever taken was either duty-bound or tied to a promise he'd made to his father, Dr. Roberts. His actions weren't fueled by romantic passion shared between a man and a woman; he didn't view me in that light. To him, I was a younger sister in need of his protection and guidance. That was the boundary, and it was up to me to acknowledge and contain it.
My reflections were abruptly interrupted as enthusiastic cheers erupted from a group of girls near the university's entrance.
Shifting my focus, I realized I was seated beneath a towering tree on a bench. I shook my head and made a mental note to concentrate on Phelan. Unearthing the truth behind the events in the basement was imperative. Why did a contingent of outcross individuals perform an elaborate ceremony prior to the lunar eclipse? Why did I feel a kinship to Phelan's experience?
My conjectures indicated that Phelan's parents might have been outcross too. It was conceivable that my parents were urions. As the adage goes, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
However, my life's events, Phelan's occurrences—none of it followed the norm described in the books detailing the lives of outcross and urions. There seemed to be a thread binding us, a connection defying explanation. Our shared experiences hinted at a deeper linkage between us. While it held significance, it wasn't information to be casually divulged to the LOU just yet.
My reverie was broken as I entered my first class. Settling into a seat at the back, I found the professor's lecture on World Literature failing to pique my interest. Leaning back, I closed my eyes, permitting the ambiance to envelop me. The energy of my fellow students and the rhythms of the university hummed around me, revealing an odd sensation lingering in the air.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" a female voice chimed beside me. Another figure occupied the seat in front of me.
Rumina and Kelvin!
My eyes snapped open, attuned to the presence of Rumina and Kelvin. But what brought them to this classroom?
Rumina, clad in a sleek black blouse, skinny jeans, and classic Chuck Taylor sneakers, clutched a bag and a textbook. "We're your classmates!"
"What?" I exclaimed, taken aback.
Kelvin, seated in front of me, grinned and looked back, verifying Rumina's statement.
My pupils dilated with surprise. What in the world were they doing here?
"You're in need of protection, Kiera. Sirius sent us," Rumina explained with a mischievous glint. "It's going to be quite the adventure!"
"Why would Sirius send you? I can handle myself! I can protect myself!"
"The LOU dispatched us. They've sensed heightened outcross activity post the lunar eclipse. We're here to safeguard and serve," Kelvin interjected. "But we're strictly prohibited from taking any further action."
Rumina chuckled. "The LOU secured our enrollment without a hitch. And guess what?" She playfully dangled the information.
"What? C'mon, Rumina, I despise suspense!"
"The old professor for this subject—the one you've been secretly praying would retire—has vanished!" she exclaimed, gesturing towards the entrance as the new World Literature professor sauntered in.
A hush settled over the room as the new professor entered. Her attire, hugging her curves provocatively, emphasized her figure. Her lips were a bold shade of crimson, and her fiery red hair cascaded freely past her shoulders. Walking with an air of regality, she might as well have been a queen on the runway. Her eyeglasses couldn't obscure her identity.
"Good morning, class?" Her voice had an unsettling allure, sending shivers down my spine. Her gaze homed in on me, rendering me immobile in my seat.
"V-Vega..."