Chapter 4
Seven years ago
Carter
Midnight wasn't coming fast enough and Carter Evans badly wanted to get out of the library.
The weather outside was perfect. Aurelia University during early October reminded him why he loved the fall in Boston so much.
Cold night air drifted through the old stone buildings, carrying the smell of fallen leaves, hot chocolate and rain soaked pavement.
The entire campus glowed under strings of golden lights wrapped around trees for Founders Day celebrations while students crowded the courtyards in heavy sweaters and scarves. Nobody was sleeping tonight. Aurelia looked elegant and intimidating in that old-money, centuries-of-tradition kind of way.
Unfortunately, beneath all that picturesque autumn magic, Aurelia students were currently behaving like violent raccoons.
Carter Evans checked his watch again and sighed.
11:15 PM.
Forty five more minutes.
At this point he was starting to believe time had physically slowed down just to test him.
He leaned farther back in the chair and stretched his sore shoulders carefully, trying not to make noise.
He had been hiding inside the faculty archives section of the library since a little after six in the evening.
His phone battery was dying, his neck hurt, his eyes burned from studying all week, and at this point he honestly would have traded the Founder’s Medal for six uninterrupted hours of sleep and a decent burger.
Unfortunately, leaving now would probably end with him getting tackled by half the freshman class.
Founders Day at Aurelia University was apparently what happened when an elite institution with too much money and centuries of tradition decided students needed “character building.”
Every year after midterms, the first year student with the highest examination score received the Founder’s Medal at dinner. The medal itself was mostly symbolic, an old silver piece hanging from a dark green silk ribbon embossed with the Aurelia crest.
The problem was what happened after.
From dinner at six o’clock until midnight, the entire first year class was allowed to steal it.
At midnight, whichever student still physically possessed the medal officially won the honor of House of Laurel, meaning their portrait would hang permanently inside the east hall beside generations of alumni who had gone on to become judges, politicians, CEOs, diplomats and embarrassingly successful hedge fund managers.
According to Aurelia’s very dramatic history department, the game symbolized ambition, perseverance and “the burden of achievement.”
According to Carter, it was an excuse for rich college students to commit organized crime in formalwear.
Everyone already knew he would get the medal before the results were even officially announced. Aaron Archibald thought the whole thing was hilarious.
“You know people are taking bets on where you’ll hide tonight?” he said earlier that afternoon while walking back from economics class. “Somebody offered me two hundred dollars for information.”
As if the richest boy on campus needed more money.
William Harrington looked up from his phone. “I accepted three offers personally.”
Carter stared at him. “You sold me out?”
William shrugged calmly. “Relax. I gave everyone different locations. One group currently believes you rented a boat.”
Carter chuckled.
That was the strange thing about college. He genuinely hadn’t expected to become close friends with either of them. Both of his roommates came from old money.
Aaron Archibald was nice but didn’t talk much and somehow knew everybody on campus within two weeks.
William was the rebel of his family, chose to be a lawyer in a family full of businessmen. He was smooth and unreadable half the time until he randomly said something so dry it caught people off guard.
Meanwhile Carter mostly just studied, worked out, attended classes and tried keeping the other two from getting arrested.
Somewhere between late night takeout, impossible deadlines and surviving freshman year together, the three of them had become inseparable.
Usually.
Tonight all loyalty had temporarily disappeared for sport.
Which was exactly why Carter couldn’t simply lock himself inside his dorm room and wait this out peacefully.
Aaron wanted the title because he liked winning things.
William wanted it because the rest of his family was there. His dad, both of his brothers— Alex and Nick. He felt left out.
Carter wanted it because he had spent most of his life fighting for spaces people assumed he didn’t belong in.
That part mattered more than he admitted out loud.
The medal rested safely inside his jacket pocket now, cool silver pressing against his chest every time he shifted slightly. He pulled it out for a moment, letting the green ribbon slide through his fingers thoughtfully. The Aurelia crest gleamed faintly beneath the desk lamp.
House of Laurel.
It sounded dramatic.
Maybe because Aurelia still didn’t entirely feel real to him sometimes.
Many students walked across campus with the easy confidence of people who had never once questioned whether they belonged somewhere.
Carter admired that feeling.
He just never grew up with it.
Back home in South Boston, nobody expected him to end up at the most prestigious University in the country.
His mother still sounded slightly shocked every time she talked about it on the phone.
Carter had arrived here with two scholarships, financial aid, secondhand furniture and enough ambition to become genuinely unhealthy if left unsupervised.
So he worked.
Harder than everyone else if he had to.
Top grades. Becoming Class representative. Joined the debate team. Hockey team at six in the morning . Professors liked him. He got along with all of his batchmates.Half the campus came to him for notes before exams.
Outside the library windows, wind rustled through trees glowing orange beneath the streetlights while students laughed somewhere in the distance.
The faculty archives remained quiet around him, hidden deep inside the older wing of the library where almost nobody came willingly after dark. Tall bookshelves stretched across the dim room, filled with ancient leather bound books and records nobody under seventy probably cared about anymore.
Honestly, it was the perfect hiding place.
Nobody expected him to choose the library because it seemed too obvious.
Besides, after surviving midterms, Aurelia students avoided this building like it was on fire.
Carter had helped his chances further by posting an Instagram story earlier from O’Malley’s Bar downtown.
The blurry photo showed him holding fries beside the glowing neon sign.
Taken three days ago, obviously.
Judging from the angry messages flooding his phone all evening, at least twenty people were still searching for him there.
He smirked slightly and checked the time again.
11:39 PM.
Close enough to survival.
Then footsteps echoed outside the archive room, disrupting the calm in the library.
Carter straightened immediately.
A second later came the soft electronic beep of a keycard unlocking the restricted entrance.
His brows pulled together.
Nobody except faculty, librarian and a handful of student representatives had access here.
The heavy door opened quietly.
Then came a sound that was either a cane rattling or the sharp click of heels against marble flooring.
Carter frowned before stepping silently behind one of the tall bookshelves, peering through the narrow gap between rows.
A girl walked inside carrying an enormous stack of books against her chest.
Even from across the room he could tell she absolutely did not belong in the library at midnight carrying half the building’s inventory like this was a normal evening activity.
Long golden hair fell almost to her waist, swaying softly with every step.
The sleeves of her maroon sweater slipped slightly over delicate fingers struggling to keep the books from toppling over completely.
The fitted black pants and heeled boots probably cost more than Carter’s annual budget, though somehow the whole outfit still looked effortless instead of intimidating.
She paused near the desk with a small frustrated breath, trying to shift the pile higher against her chest before one book nearly slid sideways.
Carter watched her catch it awkwardly with her elbow.
Okay.
That was actually kind of adorable.
Then she stepped fully beneath the light and Carter finally saw her face properly.
Elena Waldorf.
Well.
That explained the designer sweater.
*****
The girl half the university was obsessed with.
And unfortunately, Carter understood why.
She just had this effortless hold on the campus.
The finance guys were obsessed, the art majors were constantly sketching girls who looked exactly like her, and even the professors were uncharacteristically nice to her.
Even when she was completely exhausted after a long lecture, she still looked like she belonged in a high-end perfume ad.
Carter had never actually spoken to her before.
That didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed her. Everyone noticed her.
His eyes had followed her across campus more times than he’d ever admit out loud.
In lecture halls. At parties. Walking through campus with coffee in hand.
Sitting cross legged on cafeteria chairs while arguing dramatically with William about something ridiculous.
William Harrington, his roommate. Those two had apparently grown up together in New York.
Carter had been genuinely sad when he thought they were dating until William laughed in his face and told him absolutely not.
Sometimes when William waved Carter over to their table, Elena would glance at him with this look in her eyes that almost felt challenging. Curious. Amused. Like she was waiting to see if he’d actually say something to her.
He never did.
William had offered to introduce them at least ten times.