21. Chapter Twenty-One - Eternal Bond
Iwas fighting sleep like it was some stubborn opponent I couldn’t quite shake off, my eyelids heavy and unyielding.
My head dipped forward in slow, embarrassing nods that kept pulling me under before I could catch myself.
The steady drone of the lecture washed over me without ever really landing, each word slipping past without sticking.
The air in the room felt thick and stagnant, too confined for comfort, until my chin jerked up and I blinked hard, dragging myself back to the present.
Four sets of eyes were fixed on me.
Not taking notes, not on their phones, not even pretending to care about the lecture. Just watching with a mix of curiosity and faint amusement that made me wonder, for a split second, if I’d actually drooled right there in front of them.
Culver’s absence echoed through the room in a way that left everything feeling strangely exposed, like without him beside me the whole setup had thinned out and lost its shape. A subtle shiver slipped under my collar, and I told myself it was only the chill in the air.
When class finally wrapped up, I dragged out packing my things.
I eased my books into my bag with slow movements that gave me an excuse to linger in my seat a little longer without making it obvious.
I wasn’t ready to throw myself back into the chaos of the hallway or deal with the sudden shift in attention from students who now seemed to have a reason to notice me.
Their stares didn’t ease until I melted into the crowd and out of sight.
I quickened my pace, weaving between people with a forced sense of purpose like I actually had somewhere important to be.
The truth was, I wasn’t feeling up for the next class at all, not with a professor who carried himself like he was the center of the damn universe.
He was already there when I walked in, rigid and commanding, draining the room of anything resembling warmth like he owned the air itself.
I still couldn’t figure out what his issue with me was.
The way he looked at me felt heavy, almost ominous.
Like he saw something broken or doomed in me and had already decided how it would end.
But unraveling his mindset wasn’t on my list of things to deal with, so I shoved it aside and kept moving.
Oliver and Sienna were already seated together, their closeness effortless, like nothing could wedge itself between them. The moment they spotted me, their expressions lit up. Quick and genuine, like I’d just stepped into something safe.
“Hey, guys,” I muttered as I slid into my seat.
Sienna looked radiant, her entire energy lighter, like a storm that had been hanging over her had finally shifted somewhere else. Maybe they’d talked things out. The sort of conversation that didn’t fix everything but somehow tied people closer together afterward.
“Ira,” Oliver greeted with a smirk, tilting his head as he studied me like he was trying to solve something. “You look a bit shinier today.”
I raised a brow, a short laugh slipping out. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I don’t know. You’ve got a glow to you. It’s a good thing.”
Before I could respond, Sienna leaned forward, her hands clasped like she was about to make a wish, her eyes sparkling with teasing warmth. “Oh, you and Carter…” she sang, her tone syrupy with expectation. “How was it?”
I exhaled hard and slumped back in my chair, letting my shoulders drop like I was physically letting the question go. “The party was mediocre at best,” I said quietly. “There was drama because Carter brought me. Typical campus theatrics. He’s a fuckboy, through and through.”
“That is true,” Sienna agreed instantly, her nose wrinkling like she’d tasted something sour. “So… does that mean you and him…?”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. The implication lingered between us, thick with curiosity. I hesitated, weighing honesty against comfort, against the easier option of deflecting.
But the need to be real won out.
I gave her the smallest smile. “Yeah, but I don’t think he’s really all that he claims to be.”
Her mouth parted, surprise flickering across her face as the teasing words she’d been ready to say fell away. “I was just going to mess with you,” she admitted quietly. “But you’re serious?”
Heat rushed to my face, fast and unwelcome, and my smile slipped. “Is that… bad?”
“No,” she said quickly, guilt tightening her voice. “Not at all. I’m just surprised, is all.”
Oliver, who’d been unusually quiet, leaned in slightly, his tone dropping. “Let’s just hope Scarbrough doesn’t find out.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms as irritation bubbled up. “You keep saying that like it means something. It doesn’t. He’s not dating me. Hell, I’d even go as far as to say he literally doesn’t care about me.”
“You don’t know that,” Sienna murmured, propping her elbow on the table. Her gaze cut straight through me, too perceptive for comfort. “Your mum working for his family doesn’t explain the way he looks at you.”
“That’s right,” Oliver added, sincerity replacing his usual teasing.
“My ma works for his family,” I repeated, frustration pressing tight beneath my ribs. “That’s the only reason he even acknowledged me. He’s being polite because it would look bad otherwise. There’s nothing else to it. Nothing more to dig up, so stop trying.”
Oliver opened his mouth like he had more to say, but Sienna reached out and placed her hand gently on his arm, her expression soft but firm. “Enough, Olive-boy. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”
“My bad, Ira,” he said, sheepish now. “Do you know when he’s coming back?”
I rolled my eyes, dropping my gaze to my notebook as I scribbled notes I knew I wouldn’t remember later. “Why should I know? He said three days, and I’m not his damn keeper.”
I hated how even saying his name made something hitch in my chest, like my heart couldn’t help but stumble over itself.
The emptiness inside me felt louder than the professor droning on in the background.
I felt stupid for getting so caught up in a guy I barely knew.
My body reacted to him in ways that felt automatic and raw.
If he didn’t show up soon, it almost felt like I’d burn from the inside out.
Just waiting.
There was a brief lull before Oliver shifted closer, clearly steering us away from dangerous ground. “Let’s go out after school,” he said brightly, nudging my chair with his elbow. “I know a cracking little ice cream parlor in town. My treat.”
His grin was annoyingly infectious, and despite myself, I smirked. “I can’t say no to free ice cream.” Then I glanced at Sienna, who was already halfway to a pout. “Plus, I’ll finally learn your favorite flavors, right?”
Her sulk vanished instantly. “Olive-boy’s is plain and boring. Mine’s got actual taste.”
“Sienna,” Oliver whined, puffing out his cheeks, “that’s not nice.”
With a dramatic sigh, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a sideways hug. “I’m sorry, Oliver.”
“Mnnngh,” he mumbled, burying his head against her like she was a pillow. His hands slid low along her back, tightening at her waist like she was something delicate and necessary.
I watched them with a mix of amusement and exhaustion.
They really needed to sort out whatever tangled thing existed between them before it swallowed them whole. I was getting tired of pretending I didn’t see how obvious it all was. How they kept circling each other like nothing had changed, even though everything already had.
Locked into place without either of them admitting it.
But I stayed quiet, knowing I was still on the edges of their world, and pushing them toward something they weren’t ready to face wasn’t mine to take on, not when my own head was already full.
“Mnn,” I murmured, savoring another cold spoonful as it hit my tongue. “Chocolate chip’s the best!”
The flavor melted slowly, sweet and familiar. For that brief stretch of time, the constant churn in my mind eased enough to let me breathe, leaving me caught up only in the cool slide of ice cream, the easy chatter between us, and the soft scrape of spoons against our bowls.
“I thought you’d be more of a cookies ’n cream girl,” Sienna said, scraping her spoon through her nearly empty bowl before licking the last bit like it had personally offended her.
“No way,” Oliver cut in, shaking his head with exaggerated confidence. “She’s totally a strawberry shortcake woman. All vibes, no complexity.”
“Oliver,” Sienna scoffed, rolling her eyes like it was second nature by now, “just because you’re basic and like strawberry doesn’t mean everyone else does. Don’t project your dessert sins onto Ira.”
“Sienna, please,” he shot back, pointing at the chaotic mixture of chocolate, marshmallow, and almonds smeared around her bowl. “You like rocky road. That doesn’t make you special, it makes you unhinged.”
She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “You’re awful, Olive!”
“Aww, I’m sorry, Sie,” he murmured, scooting closer in a mock show of repentance, completely missing the mischievous glint in her eyes that gave her away.
Figuring it was time to check out for a second and give myself a break from their back-and-forth, I pulled out my phone and let my attention drift. I scrolled through the usual blur until a notification slid across the top of my screen and stopped me cold.
A big-name Wiggler based out of England.
Someone I’d followed back when my numbers barely mattered.
And they weren’t asking for a one-off video. They wanted me as a permanent collaborator.
The message laid everything out clearly. A large-scale collaboration bringing together dozens of creators in the Wiggler community. Names I recognized instantly. Names that made my stomach flip with that dizzy mix of excitement and disbelief.
“Ira?” Sienna’s voice cut through gently. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, blinking as I lifted my head. “Just… thinking. I got invited to be part of this big collaboration. Like, huge. A bunch of creators working together. It’s kinda wild.”
She tilted her head slightly, watching me through the rearview mirror as she drove us toward my place, the streetlights washing over her face in soft pulses.
“And what about that has you worried?” she asked, not pushing, just curious.
“I dunno,” I admitted with a quiet laugh. “I should be excited. I am. It’s just… sometimes creators aren’t great to each other. People steal ideas, talk behind your back, and act like they’re better than everyone else. Then there’s the pressure, the numbers, the comments… it gets stressful fast.”
She stayed quiet for a moment before smiling, steady and sure. “You should do it, honestly. And whatever happens, we’re right here for you.”
Something about how easily she said it loosened the knot in my chest.
“I think you should too,” Oliver added after a beat.
“Thanks,” I chuckled, warmth creeping into my cheeks. “I’ll keep you guys posted if I go through with it.”
Sienna pulled up in front of my place and shifted into park, the engine settling into silence.
“Thank you both,” I said softly, adjusting my bag in my lap. I hadn’t realized how quickly I’d started leaning on them, how naturally their presence had woven into my everyday, or how much it actually meant.
“And also,” I added with a grin as I opened the door, “thanks for today. The ice cream alone made it worth it.”
“It’s brass monkeys out here,” Oliver sniffled dramatically, pulling his jacket tighter. “Close the door!”
I blinked. “Brass monkeys?”
Sienna burst out laughing. “He just means it’s cold.”
Of course, she was basically my personal translator these days, putting up with all his weird sayings like it was her full-time job. Honestly, she deserved some kind of bonus for keeping me from looking totally lost every time.
“Got it,” I laughed, stepping out.
“Have a good night, Ira!” Oliver called after me.
Sienna waved along with him.
As I closed the door and their car pulled away, their voices faded into the night, replaced by the sharp bite of cold air against my skin.
I stood there a beat too long, my keys hanging loose in my hand.
I could feel myself settling into the routine little by little, letting the small moments build without forcing anything.
And still, beneath that slow sense of stability, there was an undercurrent tugging at the edges of my thoughts, soft but stubborn, refusing to loosen its hold.
Culver.
I wondered what he was doing in that moment and why the space he’d left behind echoed so loudly in my head.
If that dumbass Carter had actually managed to shake things loose the way I’d hoped, maybe Culver wouldn’t be looping through my mind nonstop.
Maybe I’d be untangling everything piece by piece instead of pretending to.
But that wasn’t happening.
And dragging Carter in my head wasn’t going to fix any of it.
I let myself inside quietly, kicking my shoes off by the door as the house settled around me, dim and calm.
My body ached in that dull, end-of-day way—not tired enough to sleep, but too drained to do anything useful—so I padded upstairs, changed into something soft, and collapsed onto my bed like gravity had finally caught up with me.
Staring at the ceiling, I replayed the day in fragments, letting each moment drift through me without trying to hold onto it.
And still—
Culver Scarbrough remained lodged deep inside me, quiet but unyielding. God, he had a pull on me I couldn’t fight, raw and real.