Chapter 3
Ivy
I arrive fifteen minutes early like I always do. Get my usual seat, third row, right side, close enough to show engagement but not so close that I look desperate. Pull out my laptop, my color-coded notes from the syllabus, my specially ordered textbook with all the chapters already flagged.
I'm prepared. I'm ready. I'm in control.
Then Ethan Zhang walks through the door.
He sees me immediately. Smiles. That same sharp, mocking smile from orientation and sits directly behind me.
"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter.
"Something wrong?" His voice is right there, too close, intimate in a way that makes my skin crawl.
"This is a big classroom. Plenty of other seats."
"But none with a good view."
I refuse to turn around. Refuse to give him the satisfaction.
Other students file in. I recognize some of them, Riley from my study group, Marcus who's apparently Ethan's roommate gives me a cheerful wave, a few others whose names I'm blanking on because I'm too focused on the presence behind me.
I can feel him there. Feel his eyes on the back of my head. Feel the air shift every time he moves.
It's deliberate. He's doing this on purpose.
Professor Hendricks walks in at 8:59 exactly, she's notorious for starting on time and launches immediately into her introduction.
"Welcome to Business Strategy. This is a capstone course. You'll work harder here than in any other class you've taken. You'll question your life choices. You'll contemplate dropping out." She smiles. "And if you survive, you'll be better strategists for it."
A few nervous laughs ripple through the room.
"This semester's focus is competitive strategy in emerging markets. You'll be working in pairs on a semester-long project analyzing a company of your choice. Your partner has been pre-assigned based on complementary skill sets."
Oh no.
Please no.
"When I call your names, please acknowledge so everyone knows their partner."
She starts reading off pairs. I barely hear the names, my heart pounding too loudly in my ears.
Please not Ethan. Please not Ethan. Please not—
"Ivy Chen and Ethan Zhang."
The universe hates me.
Behind me, Ethan makes a sound that might be amusement. "Looks like we're stuck together."
I raise my hand. "Professor Hendricks? Is it possible to switch partners?"
Every head in the room turns toward me.
"The pairings are final," Professor Hendricks says firmly. "They're based on careful analysis of your academic strengths. Unless you have a serious conflict—"
"We're from the same hometown," Ethan says smoothly. "We've known each other for years. It'll be great to work together again. Right, Ivy?"
He's giving me a choice, to back down or explain to the entire class that we have a "serious conflict." Which would require explaining our history. Which would mean everyone knowing he destroyed me.
I lower my hand. "Right. Great."
"Excellent. Moving on." Professor Hendricks continues reading pairs.
I sit frozen in my seat, rage building in my chest.
He did this. Somehow, he arranged this. His family's donation, his connections, this isn't a coincidence, it can’t be.
When class finally ends ninety minutes later, I'm out of my seat immediately.
"Ivy, wait." Ethan catches up to me in the hallway. "We should exchange numbers. For the project."
"I already have your number. From orientation, remember?"
"Right. Well, we should set up a time to meet. Discuss our company choice, strategy approach—"
"How did you do it?" I cut him off.
"Do what?"
"Get us paired together. Did your mother make another donation? Pull strings?"
"Ivy." He looks almost hurt. Almost. "I didn't arrange this. Professor Hendricks assigns partners based on academic records. It's random."
"Nothing involving you is random."
"You're being paranoid."
"I'm being realistic." I start walking toward my next class. He follows. "Stay away from me, Ethan. Outside of required class interactions, pretend I don't exist."
"Kind of hard when we're project partners for an entire semester."
"Then I'll do all the work myself and put your name on it. You're good at taking credit for things you didn't earn."
I don't wait for his response. Just push through the crowd of students, heading for the building exit.
But his voice follows me "Still bitter, I see. Three years and you still can't let it go."
I spin around. March back until we're toe to toe.
"You want me to let it go? Fine. I've let it go. You're nothing to me. Not even a memory. Just an inconvenience I have to deal with for sixteen weeks."
"An inconvenience." He leans closer. "Is that why you're shaking right now? Because I'm so inconsequential?"
I am shaking. Damn it.
"That's anger, not—"
"It's something and we both know it." His voice drops. "You can pretend you don't care. Play the ice queen who's moved on. But I know you, Ivy. Better than anyone and you're not over it."
"You don't know me anymore."
"Don't I? You still tap your pen three times before taking notes.
Still arrive exactly fifteen minutes early to everything.
Still wear that jade bracelet your grandmother gave you even though the clasp is broken.
" His eyes flick to my wrist where the bracelet sits, held together with wire. "Some things don't change."
The observation is too intimate. Too accurate. Too much evidence that he's been paying attention.
"Stay out of my life."
"We have the same classes. The same major. We're partners on a semester-long project." He smiles that cruel smile again. "Your life is my life for the next four months. Better get used to it."
He walks away before I can respond, leaving me standing in the hallway with a crowd of students flowing around me.
My phone buzzes. The group chat.
Lennox: How's your day going?
Me: Ethan is my partner for Business Strategy. Semester-long project.
Isla: WHAT?
Lennox: That has to violate some kind of university policy
Me: He arranged it somehow. I know he did.
Isla: Can you request a switch?
Me: Already tried. The professor denied it.
Lennox: Then we help you survive it. You're not doing this alone.
Me: Thanks. Currently contemplating murder. Legally.
Isla: Legally is boring. I vote for something slightly illegal.
Despite everything, I smile.
This is what Ethan doesn't understand. Three years ago, his betrayal destroyed me because I had no one. I was isolated, alone, convinced I'd never trust anyone again.
Now I have people. Friends who show up. Who makes jokes when I need them. Who would help me bury the body, legal consequences be damned.
That's power he can't take away.
By Friday, I've seen Ethan twelve times in four days.
Three times in Business Strategy, he shows up early now, always sitting behind me.
Twice in the library, coincidence? I think not.
Once at the campus coffee shop where he "happened" to be in line right behind me.
Four times just crossing campus, he seems to magically appear whenever I'm walking with friends.
Twice in Sterling Hall between classes where he makes pointed comments about my "busy schedule."
It's psychological warfare. He's everywhere, unavoidable, a constant reminder that I can't escape him.
Friday night, Isla drags me to a party at one of the social houses. I don't want to go, I would rather hide in my room with homework and bitterness, but she insists.
"You need to have fun. Prove to yourself and to him that you're not going to let his presence ruin your year."
She's right. I know she's right.
So I go. Wear a dress I feel good in. Do my makeup. Armor myself with confidence I don't entirely feel.
The party is already crowded when we arrive. Music pounding, people everywhere, the familiar chaos of college social life.
"Drink?" Isla offers.
"Several."
We get drinks and circulate. I run into people I know, classmates, study group members, acquaintances from various clubs. The interactions are easy, comfortable. This is my world now. I built this.
Then I see him.
Ethan's across the room, surrounded by a group that's already absorbed him into their social circle. He's laughing at something Marcus said, completely at ease.
Of course he is. Ethan's always been good at this. At sliding into new situations and dominating them. At making people like him.
He sees me looking. Raises his cup in a mocking toast.
I turn away deliberately. Refuse to give him the satisfaction.
"Ignore him," Isla says. "He's trying to get a reaction."
"I know."
"Then don't give him one. Dance with me. Have fun. Show him you don't care."
She pulls me toward the makeshift dance floor, and I let her. Let the music and movement distract me from the burning awareness of Ethan's presence.
We dance. We laugh. We're having actual fun.
Until a hand touches my waist.
"Mind if I cut in?"
I freeze. Know that voice.
Ethan stands there, smiling like this is perfectly normal. Like we're friends who dance at parties.
"Actually, I do mind—"
"Just one dance. For old times' sake."
"We never danced."
"Exactly. Seems like we should fix that."
Isla looks between us, uncertain. "Ivy?"
I could make a scene. Could tell him to fuck off loudly enough that everyone hears. Could run away and prove that he still has power over me.
Or I could show him I'm not afraid.
"Fine. One dance."
Sebastian walks over to Isla, who had to meet us here as he had a few things to do.
She looks up at him, but straight back to me, making sure I’m okay.
Sebastian whispers something in her ear, and she reluctantly steps back, and Ethan's hand settles on my waist with a familiarity that makes my skin burn.
"See? That wasn't so hard."
"What do you want, Ethan?"
"To dance. That's allowed, isn't it?"
We move to the music, a slower song now, intimate in a way that makes this torture.
"You look good," he says. "Different. Confident."
"Thanks. I worked hard to get over you."
"Did you? Get over me?"
"Completely."
"Liar." His hand tightens on my waist. "You're tense. Your pulse is racing. You're breathing too fast. Those aren't signs of indifference."
"Those are signs of anger."
"Or something else." He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. "You can hate me all you want, but you're not indifferent and neither am I."
"What do you want me to say? That I still think about it? That I wake up some nights still feeling that humiliation?" I pull back to look at him. "Fine. You win. It affected me. Happy?"
Something flickers across his face. "No. I'm not happy."
"Then what do you want?"
"I don't know." For the first time, he sounds uncertain. Honest. "I just know I can't stay away from you."
The admission hangs between us, dangerous and vulnerable.
"That's not my problem."
"Isn't it? We're stuck together, Ivy. Same classes, same project, same campus. You can't avoid me."
"Watch me."
The song ends and I pull away from him, from the warmth of his body and the confusion in his eyes.
"Thanks for the dance. Don't ask again."
I find Isla and Sebastian and tell them I need to leave. She doesn't argue, just gets her coat and follows me out.
We get into Sebastian's car, and she sits in the back with me, takes my hand. "You okay?"
"No. But I will be."
"What did he say?"
"That he can't stay away from me." I laugh bitterly. "Like I'm supposed to feel sorry for him. Like his inability to leave me alone is somehow romantic instead of just cruel."
"Maybe he's just as messed up about this as you are."
"I don't care. He made his choice three years ago. He doesn't get to come back and act like it was complicated."
But even as I say it, I'm thinking about the look on his face. The uncertainty. The way he said "I'm not happy" like he was confessing something.
No.
I won't feel bad for him. Won't make excuses. Won't let the tiny part of me that still cares about him override the larger part that remembers what he did.
Ethan Zhang destroyed me once.
I won't give him the opportunity to do it again.