~ C H A P T E R 5~
Reed hated loud spaces, not because they overwhelmed him or because he couldn't handle people, but because noise without meaning always felt hollow.
It reminded him of conversations that went nowhere and laughter that didn't linger.
So when he pushed open the apartment door and was immediately greeted by chaos, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.
He stepped inside quietly, dropping his keys into the ceramic bowl by the door and slipping off his shoes without announcing himself.
No one noticed at first, and he didn't mind.
Reed had never been the type to demand attention.
He moved through spaces rather than filled them, existing comfortably on the edges while everyone else took center stage.
Caleb was stretched out on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes as if the light itself had personally offended him.
Felix stood at the stove, barefoot as always, stirring something slowly while humming under his breath.
Ryan was seated on the armchair scrolling through his phone, and Vinod occupied his usual place at the dining table, laptop open, headphones on but clearly not playing anything.
Reed dropped his keys into the ceramic bowl by the door and kicked off his shoes, moving further into the apartment.
"You're alive," Caleb muttered, lowering his arm just enough to peer at Reed. "Good. I was starting to think you'd ascended into monkhood or something."
Reed grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "Disappointed?"
"Immensely," Caleb replied dryly, then hesitated for half a second before adding, "You missed... a night."
Felix glanced over his shoulder, already knowing where this was going. "That's one way to put it."
Reed leaned against the counter, unscrewing the cap. "You good?"
"You gonna stop pretending you didn't lose sleep over staircase girl, or should we bring it up ourselves?" Felix said casually.
Caleb shot him a look. "Don't call her that."
Ryan's brows lifted. "Oh?"
Felix smirked. "That's new."
Caleb sat up a little straighter, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah. I mean—yeah. Just..." He paused, then exhaled. "There was this girl."
Ryan looked up, interest piqued. "This is new."
"Don't make it weird," Caleb shot back, then glanced at Reed. "Sandra. She's... not what I expected."
Felix smirked. "That's because you expect chaos and get humbled instead."
Caleb ignored him. "She's sharp. And funny. And she didn't treat me like I was some walking jersey number." He shifted slightly, uncomfortable but honest. "I pissed myself off, actually. I couldn't find her when things got hectic. I wanted to make sure she got home okay."
That earned Reed's full attention.
"You looked for her?" Reed asked.
Caleb nodded once. "Yeah. Didn't want her thinking I was just... another guy."
Ryan leaned back in his chair. "You're getting soft."
Caleb snorted. "Relax. I just know when someone deserves better, you should know that, with Cassie."
Reed took a sip of water, something quiet settling in his chest. He didn't comment, but he respected that. More than he would ever say out loud.
Felix slid a bowl of pasta across the counter toward Reed. "Eat. You skipped the party, the least you can do is not starve yourself."
Reed accepted it with a nod. "Thanks."
As the conversation drifted back to lighter topics, Reed stayed quiet, listening the way he always did. But his mind lingered on what Caleb had said—on the care in his voice, the restraint. It was rare, in spaces like this, to hear interest spoken without entitlement.
His thoughts, however, were anything but quiet.
No matter how hard he tried to focus on the noise around him, his mind kept drifting somewhere else. To a library desk. To soft fingers tapping nervously against a keyboard. To wide eyes and a voice that felt calmer than it had any right to.
Eva.
He hadn't expected to remember her name so easily.
That part bothered him more than he cared to admit.
He hadn't expected to remember the way she smiled, either, or how she waited for him to finish talking instead of interrupting, or how she looked at him like he was just a person asking for help and not a basketball player who existed for entertainment.
Most people looked at him and saw a body before they saw a human.
Eva hadn't.
And that settled heavy in his chest.
"You seriously went to the library instead of the party?" Caleb asked, narrowing his eyes.
Reed took a bite of pasta. "Yeah."
Felix hummed. "You only go to the library when something's on your mind."
Reed met his gaze briefly. "I had homework."
Vinod finally looked up. "Liar."
Reed didn't argue. Because technically, he had gone to the library. Just not for homework.
He finished eating quickly, rinsed the bowl, and retreated to his room before anyone could ask more questions. The door clicked shut behind him, and the sudden quiet felt different in here. Not empty. Not peaceful. Just still.
Reed sat on the edge of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees, phone dangling loosely in his hand. He didn't know Eva's last name. Didn't know if she had a boyfriend. Didn't know why she had lodged herself into his thoughts so easily.
All he knew was that she existed somewhere on this campus.
And for reasons he didn't quite understand yet, that felt important.
Reed lay back against his mattress and stared up at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily above him. He hadn't gone to the party. He hadn't gone looking for anything.
But somehow, he still felt like he'd found something.
And that realization unsettled him more than any crowded room ever could.
Reed reached for his phone again, not entirely sure why. He unlocked the screen, scrolled absently through notifications, and paused when he saw his dad's name sitting near the top of his recent calls.
He hadn't called earlier.
He should have.
Reed pressed dial before he could talk himself out of it.
The phone rang twice.
"Reedino," his dad answered, his voice slightly tired but warm in a way that always grounded Reed. There was faint background noise on the other end—dishes clinking, the low hum of the television, and the familiar sound of someone moving around in the kitchen.
"You good?" his dad asked.
"Yeah," Reed replied automatically. "You?"
"Same old, same old," his dad said. "Your Nonna made too much pasta again. Swears she cooked for a small army."
Reed let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh.
"She always does."
"Your brother wants to talk to you," his dad added.
There was some muffled shuffling before a too-loud voice filled the speaker. "Reed! Guess what? I got an A on my math test."
A small smile tugged at Reed's lips. "I knew you would. Proud of you, champ."
"I told Dad you helped me," his brother said proudly, as if Reed had personally sat beside him during the exam.
"You better start charging me tutoring fees," Reed teased.
His brother laughed, completely unbothered by the idea.
In the background, Reed heard his grandmother's unmistakable voice, sharp and loving all at once.
"Tell him he's too skinny and needs to eat more! A growing boy cannot survive on air!" she called.
Reed shook his head slightly, even though she couldn't see him. "I eat, Nonna."
"Lies," his dad replied. "She made lasagna. If you were here, you'd already be on your second plate."
Reed pictured it without trying.
The crowded kitchen.
Steam fogging the windows.
His grandmother standing over the stove, wooden spoon in hand, muttering in Italian while his dad pretended not to sneak tastes when she wasn't looking.
They talked for a few more minutes—nothing important, nothing heavy. Classes. Weather. His brother's newest obsession with a video game. His grandmother complaining about grocery prices and how "nothing tastes the same anymore."
Ordinary things.
Reed clung to those moments more than he ever admitted.
Before hanging up, his dad cleared his throat softly. "Your mom would've been proud of you, you know."
The words landed gently.
Still, they always landed.
"Yeah," Reed said quietly.
After the call ended, Reed set his phone beside him and rolled onto his side, facing the wall. The room felt smaller in the dark, but not in a suffocating way. More like a cocoon.
His mind drifted, uninvited, to a memory he usually kept locked away.
His mom standing at the kitchen counter.
Flour dusted across her cheek.
Dark hair pulled into a messy bun.
Humming softly in Italian while she kneaded dough, swatting his hand away every time he tried to steal a piece.
"Patience, amore," she had said, smiling like she knew he would never have any.
It wasn't a loud memory.
It wasn't dramatic.
Just warm.
Just simple.
Reed swallowed and forced his eyes shut, pressing the image down before it could unravel into something heavier. He had learned a long time ago how to survive his thoughts. How to fold them neatly and tuck them into corners of his mind.
Tonight, though, another image slipped in beside it.
Eva.
The way she looked at him.
The way she smiled.
The way she felt... real.
Reed exhaled slowly.
Maybe that was why she stuck with him.
Not because she was beautiful.
Not because she worked in the library.
But because, for a brief moment, she made the world feel quiet in a way that didn't hurt.
Reed shifted onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
He didn't know what this was.
He didn't know where it was going.
But for the first time in a long time, he didn't hate not knowing.