The smell of roasted chicken and fresh bread wafted through the air as I sat with TJ, at our usual table in the bustling dining hall. The place was loud, filled with laughter, clinking cutlery, and the hum of conversation. But despite the chaos, I felt at ease with TJ by my side, the only person who made this elite world somewhat bearable.
TJ stabbed her fork into her mashed potatoes, lifting a bite to her mouth as she grinned. "You've got to try this, Justine. It's the best thing this school has ever cooked."
"Hmm, that's really delicious!" I said to her as I took a bite from her plate.
We both laughed, comfortable in our little bubble of normalcy in a school that always felt overwhelming. I savored these moments when I could just be myself with TJ, without worrying about my scholarship status or my place in a world dominated by wealth and influence.
But that peace didn't last long.
Just as I was about to take another bite, the mood in the dining hall shifted. I sensed it before I saw it—a ripple of attention sweeping across the room, accompanied by soft whispers and stolen glances.
My heart sank.
"Here they come," TJ muttered under her breath, her gaze drifting toward the entrance. Sure enough, Nick Cortez and Eric Blackwood had entered the dining hall, commanding attention as they always did. The two walked with an easy confidence, their presence magnetic, like they owned the place. And in some ways, they did.
"I swear, he has radar for when I'm trying to avoid him," I whispered, my heart picking up speed. I glanced down, hoping Nick wouldn't notice me.
No such luck.
Nick's eyes found me within seconds, and his signature smirk crept across his face. He nudged Eric, and before I could react, they were headed straight for our table.
"Please, no," I muttered under my breath, bracing myself.
Nick didn't bother asking for permission to join us. He pulled out a chair with a dramatic flourish, seating himself across from me while Eric casually took the seat next to him. The entire dining hall seemed to go quiet, as if the air itself had thickened with tension.
"Ladies," Nick greeted smoothly, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. "Didn't think you'd be eating alone tonight. Good thing we showed up."
TJ raised an eyebrow, but I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks. I hated the way my body reacted to him, how just being in his presence made my heart race despite how much I wanted to punch him.
"Cortez," I said flatly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. "Don't you have better things to do than crash our dinner?"
Nick leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he eyed me with an unsettling intensity. "Crash? I thought we were invited. Isn't that right, Eric?"
"Absolutely," Eric chimed in with a grin, shooting a quick wink at TJ, who only rolled her eyes in response.
Nick's gaze flickered back to me, his smirk widening as he leaned in closer, invading my space. "But since I'm here, I might as well enjoy the view," he said softly, his tone laced with something darker, more intimate.
My stomach twisted. I hated how he could switch from obnoxious jerk to flirtatious charmer in a split second. It was confusing, infuriating, and—worst of all—made my pulse quicken in ways I refused to acknowledge.
"I think you've had your fun, Nick," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Why don't you take your little show somewhere else?"
Nick's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Why would I do that when you're here? Besides, I thought you liked the attention."
"I don't."
"Are you sure about that?" Nick's voice dropped an octave, and he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. The gesture was so sudden, so intimate, that it took my breath away. For a split second, the world around us disappeared, and it was just the two of us, locked in some strange, unspoken battle.
My heart pounded in my chest, but I pushed his hand away, my cheeks flaming with a mix of anger and something I couldn't quite place. "Don't touch me."
Nick's smirk didn't falter. If anything, he seemed more amused by my resistance. "Feisty, as always."
TJ, sensing my rising frustration, glanced between us, her eyes narrowing at Nick. "You're pushing it, Cortez. She's not in the mood."
But Nick didn't seem to care. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms casually, as if he had all the time in the world. "Oh, I think she is," he said with a lazy grin.
That was it. I had enough.
I shoved my chair back and stood abruptly, drawing the attention of half the dining hall. My pulse was pounding in my ears, and I didn't care who was watching anymore.
"I'm leaving," I announced, my voice tight with anger.
Nick raised an eyebrow, still looking infuriatingly amused. "Leaving already? And here I thought we were just getting started."
"Get started with someone else," I snapped, turning on my heel and marching toward the exit.
I could feel the eyes of the entire dining hall on me, but none of it mattered. My fists were clenched, and my chest burned with frustration. Nick always did this—pushed my buttons, flirted with me just enough to confuse me, then acted like nothing ever mattered.
I made it halfway to the door before I heard footsteps behind me.
"Justine," Nick called, his voice following me like a shadow.
I ignored him, walking faster.
"Justine, wait."
Before I could react, his hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. His touch was firm but not forceful, and when I turned around, my breath caught at the sight of him. His expression was different—less arrogant, more sincere, as if something real had finally cracked through his facade.
"Let go of me," I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
Nick didn't let go. Instead, he tugged me gently, pulling me toward the exit. "Come on," he said, his voice low and quiet. "Let's get out of here."
Against my better judgment, I allowed him to lead me outside the dining hall. Heads turned as we walked together, hand in hand, and whispers spread like wildfire. Everyone was watching, but what truly unsettled me was the pair of eyes burning into my back.
Vanessa.
I didn't have to look to know Vanessa Caldwell was glaring daggers at me from across the room. I could feel it—like ice crawling up my spine. And when I finally glanced back, my suspicions were confirmed. Vanessa's eyes were locked on me, radiating anger, jealousy, and something much darker. The death stare sent a warning straight to my gut.
Vanessa would come for me. Sooner or later, she would make me pay for this.
My heart raced, but before I could dwell on the impending threat, Nick's voice pulled my attention back to him.
"Don't worry about her," he said, as if reading my mind. "She's not important."
I wanted to argue, but I couldn't. Instead, I let Nick walk me through the darkened campus, my emotions swirling in a chaotic mess. We arrived at my dorm building far too quickly, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with something unsaid.
Nick stopped in front of my door, still holding my hand, his fingers wrapped around mine like he wasn't ready to let go. For a moment, he just stared at me, his dark eyes softening in a way that sent a dull ache through my chest, making it harder to breathe.
For a second, I was sure he might kiss me. My breath hitched, the air between us buzzing with tension so thick it was almost unbearable. His lips hovered just centimeters from mine, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath, and when his other hand gently tilted my chin up, my heart skipped a beat.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment his lips would meet mine. Every nerve in my body was on edge, ready for the kiss.
But the kiss never came.
I opened my eyes, blinking up at him, confused, my heart racing from the nearness of him.
And just like that, the tenderness in his gaze disappeared. His expression shifted, hardening, and that cocky, infuriating smirk I despised slid back into place.
"Goodnight, princess," he said, his voice dripping with that familiar arrogance, as if nothing had happened—as if he hadn't almost kissed me.
He let go of my hand, turned, and walked away, leaving me standing there, breathless, with my heart in turmoil.