4. Briar #2
Her lips part and she blinks rapidly, as if seeing me for the first time. Not just the news story. “Of course, dear. I’m sorry for how my excitement came across. Only myself and the dean will know about you, until you feel comfortable to share that. You being here is already a huge step for us.”
Relief crashes through me and immediately my shoulders deflate as I let out a breath. “That means a lot to me, thank you.”
I head out of her office as she shuts off the light, the shadows in the long hall suddenly stretching wide as we make our way to the front doors.
I push the door open and step back out into the night, bidding Ms. Tomlinson goodnight as she turns and pulls on the door, seemingly to ensure it’s locked properly.
With a satisfied nod to the door, she gives me a short wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear.”
For a moment I stand on the steps. The city noise filters around me as I draw in a deep breath, but it does nothing to steady the tangled emotions inside me. Excitement and dread coil tightly in my chest, each one pulling me in opposite directions.
I should be thrilled. A program that was supposed to be closed suddenly cracked wide open for me. A chance at NYU’s art school, a full scholarship, a future I’ve begged for in dozens of silent sketches. I just somehow need to trust that they’ll respect my wishes.
My boots crunch over fallen leaves as I follow the narrow path back toward the edge of campus. The glow of streetlamps gives way to darker stretches, where the city beyond hums in restless colors and noise. My hand tightens on my satchel strap as I focus on getting through the night.
I need to find a place to rest and hide before tomorrow at two. After that, maybe I’ll breathe easier.
A pang of uncertainty tightens my throat as I scan the row of benches lining the sidewalk. Two familiar figures steal my attention.
Callum is slouched across a bench like he owns the night, long legs sprawled, posture dripping with the kind of arrogance that seems effortless. A lazy grin tugs faintly at his lips when his crystalline blue gaze catches mine across the dim stretch of lamplight.
The broody one stands a few feet away, arms folded, gaze locked on the ground as though the weight of his thoughts keeps him rooted there. His presence feels heavier than Callum’s cocky ease, though neither is remotely comforting.
My spine stiffens and the small knot of unease I’ve been attempting to untangle tightens again. Of course they’re still here. Two shadows haunting the edge of campus like they’ve been lying in wait to bother me further.
Heat sparks low in my chest, irritation rising faster than fear. I can already feel the sharp retort curling on my tongue, ready to launch before they can get a word in.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter under my breath as I stalk closer, boots striking the ground harder than they need to. My satchel thumps against my hip with each step, a steady reminder I have better things to worry about than two strangers with nothing better to do.
Callum’s grin widens like he can sense my annoyance from where he sits. He shifts, spreading his arms along the back of the bench as though to frame himself for my benefit.
“Miss me already, baby?” he drawls, head tilting lazily as his bright blue eyes rake over me.
The other one doesn’t move or speak. Just stands there like I’m not worth his notice again, dark gaze still fixed on the street instead of me.
“Let me guess,” I muse, my eyebrows lifting as my lips purse. “You didn’t get enough of harassing me earlier, so you decided to loiter out here until I came back out?”
The words hang sharp between us. Callum lets out a low chuckle, the sound unbothered, slightly amused, even. The darker haired guy finally turns, his gaze locking on mine with the weight of a storm cloud.
“If you think you’re worth waiting on,” he says flatly, “I’ll add arrogance to the list of descriptors for you.”
His words hit deeper than I want them to, stinging hot under my skin. Recklessness leaps up in their wake, sharp and defiant within me.
I don’t know why I care to defend my character to this jerk, but I can’t hold it back.
“Funny,” I snap, my chin lifting, “because despite your earlier conclusions of me, apparently I am important enough to stay late for. Ms. Tomlinson not only stayed, but she’s pushing for me to be accepted into NYU. Full ride. Guess I’ve got more value than you’re able to see.”
The silence that follows isn’t triumphant.
It lands heavy and almost bruising as Callum’s easy grin falters, his mouth parting slightly before he looks away, jaw ticking.
The other one’s stare sharpens, but not with the same smug certainty as before.
The weight of something unspoken passes between them as they share a look.
For the first time since meeting them, I sense my barb landed somewhere I hadn’t intended.
“Then enjoy the slot my brother and I likely freed up,” Callum mutters, voice low and tinged with a raw grief. “Glad someone gets to have our dream.”
The words knock the air right out of me. His voice isn’t mocking, instead it’s laced with a pain I wasn’t expecting, the kind that sinks deep before you realize it’s cut you open.
And then I remember. The pieces slide into place as I recall the conversation I overheard before I shoved between them earlier. About the uncle who used his connections to block their acceptance.
Their dreams are being strangled by family, just like mine.
Guilt creeps in, sharp under my ribs. I hadn’t meant to throw my good fortune in their faces, not when they’re standing here gutted by the very thing I just boasted about.
For once, I don’t have a snarky comeback. Just the weight of their eyes turning back to me and the quiet understanding that maybe I’m not the only one in this world that isn’t as free as they want to be.