64. Chapter 59
Evin
" I swear, I can't take another second of this," Milka muttered, downing the rest of her drink in one go.
Evin let out a dry laugh. "You haven't even started yet."
"I've seen enough." Milka’s gaze swept across the lavishly decorated room, her expression hovering somewhere between boredom and mild annoyance.
Twinkling fairy lights hung from the ceiling, the tables were elegantly set, and well-dressed students mingled with their parents and teachers.
Some had already broken away from the adults, standing in small groups, laughing, drinking, flirting.
It was a picture that could have been pulled straight from last year—or any other high school movie. But for Evin, it felt surreal.
Three months.
Three months of training, partying, new faces that came and went without making any real difference.
Three months of laughing, flirting, drowning in loud music and packed dance floors because it was easier not to feel when the bass was pounding in her veins.
She had laughed, accepted drinks from older guys, dragged Milka into her reckless escapades—deliberately ignoring everything that didn't fit into this picture.
Ignoring the fact that Bas was spending time with Cat again.
Ignoring the fact that it hurt, even though she had sworn it wouldn’t.
Not that she didn’t know.
He was here, just like she was. And Cat was by his side. Sometimes. Not officially, but often enough for people to speculate. And often enough that she was constantly forced to confront it.
Evin blinked, pulling herself out of her thoughts. Milka had picked up another Coke and was stirring her straw absentmindedly, as if she was seconds away from spiraling into a full existential crisis.
"We deserve better than this, don’t we?"
"Definitely." Her eyes flickered to him , in his natural environment, grinning, with his guys, and Cat nearby.
Milka snorted quietly. "I’m serious. This has got to be the lamest version of a banquet ever."
"We’re only juniors."
"And?" She took a sip and grimaced. "I’d rather have less small talk and more alcohol."
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the hum of conversation and the occasional clinking of silverware filling the gaps.
Milka glanced at her phone and froze mid-motion, her glass still half-raised, as if she had completely forgotten what she was about to say.
Her expression changed in real-time—an initial blink of surprise, then an irritated press of her lips.
Her eyes narrowed like she had just seen something she absolutely did not like.
"Oh, fuck no."
She set her glass down as if it had suddenly gained weight. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up—her legs moving forward on their own, long before E vin even registered what was happening.
"What—?" Evin asked, confused.
But before the question had even fully left her mouth, a voice rang out near the entrance, cutting through the room’s chatter.
"Milka, Bellamy’s outside. Maybe you should check on him."
Milka stiffened for the briefest second—barely noticeable, but Evin caught it. A subtle twitch in her brow. A breath that didn’t go in quite deep enough.
“Babe, I’ll be right back. Give me a sec.”
She rolled her eyes, her expression somewhere between reluctant and annoyed, muttering an exasperated "Idiot" before vanishing into the crowd without another word.
"Okay, guess I’ll go to the bathroom in the meantime."
But Milka was already gone, too far away to hear her.
Evin exhaled and let her gaze drift around the room.
The junior banquet was exactly what she had expected.
This wasn’t a real prom with over-the-top romance and staged pictures in front of artificial flower walls.
It was a strange in-between event—somewhere between teenage ease and the looming weight of adulthood.
Chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, the tables dressed in crisp white linens, the guests in expensive gowns and tailored suits.
There were pricey drinks for the parents, who officially remained oblivious to the fact that their kids were sneaking shots from flasks in the bathroom.
It was the kind of night where everyone liked to pretend that something would change. That in a year, they would return as different people, stepping into a new world.
Evin wondered if that was true.
Probably not. Most of them would stay exactly the same. Some would lose themselves in college, in new lives, in new circles—but they wouldn’t stop making the same mistakes.
And then there was her.
The one who had already changed.
She let her eyes wander across the dance floor, past groups of students leaning back at th eir tables, girls who had already kicked off their heels, parents and teachers standing in small clusters, a mix of weary indulgence and nostalgic longing in their eyes.
Her gaze briefly landed on Bas’ group—still at the edge of the dance floor, a handful of guys, a handful of girls.
But Bas wasn’t there.
And neither was Cat.
What a coincidence. Evin rolled her eyes.
They were probably long gone.
She pushed the feeling away, forced herself to bury the thought. It didn’t matter.
She didn’t choose the large banquet hall bathroom—too crowded, too loud, too many mirrors.
Instead, she took the narrow hallway leading to the classrooms.
A place where no one ever went.
Where it was clean. And, more importantly, quiet.
The only place where she didn’t have to pretend.
__________
Sebastian
A s he leaned into the dimly lit, abandoned classroom, the world outside slipped away. He let the door click shut behind him, cutting off the sounds of the banquet, while the darkness of the room wrapped around him.
The silence was almost suffocating after the loud, vibrating atmosphere of the party.
The table in front of him was empty—except for a single, unremarkable water bottle.
Not water. Vodka. He had stashed it here before the banquet began, just like he used to back when he and the guys from the team woul d sneak drinks together.
But tonight, none of them were here.
Tonight, he was drinking alone.
He picked up the bottle, unscrewed the cap slowly. The sharp, biting scent burned his nose before he even took a sip. And when he did, the heat scorched down his throat, spreading outward, warming, numbing.
God, he needed that.
Bas took a deep breath, let his head tilt back, and closed his eyes.
Three months.
Three months where he had thought about her every damn day. Where he had convinced himself that this had been the right decision. That she needed it.
Three months of watching her move on—like what—they had never even existed.
He remembered that night a few weeks ago.
The music pulsed from the speakers, colorful lights flickering over sweaty bodies, laughing mouths. He had been standing with Bellamy on the terrace, a cigarette between his fingers, and then—like a fucking scene from a movie—she appeared from the crowd.
Arms draped around the neck of some senior, her expression half dreamy, half defiant, like she didn’t give a damn about anything.
She laughed. Threw her head back. And then kissed him.
Right in front of Bas.
He hadn’t moved. Had just stood there, rooted to the spot, his pulse hammering in his temples while Bellamy mumbled something he couldn’t even process.
Maybe that was the moment it changed.
Maybe that was when he stopped longing for her—and started hating her.
But no.
Unfortunately no.
He didn’t hate her.
How could he?
Not when just t he thought of her still made his chest tighten. Not when the memory of her voice, her smile, the way she used to look at him still rattled inside him, no matter how much he tried to drown it out.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
A part of him, the part that still burned, wanted to hurt her the way she had been hurting him for the past few weeks. So he had called Cat again—picked up right where they had left off.
Bas opened his eyes, screwed the cap back on the bottle, and shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He straightened, took a slow breath.
It was just one night.
Just one goddamn night.
He had to pull himself together.
As he stepped out of the dark classroom, he felt it.
Even before it happened.
A movement—just on the edge of his vision, something indistinct, a shadow, a presence, the quiet echo of footsteps against the floor.
And then—
The impact.
Hard, sudden, real.
Her body collided with his, unexpected yet inevitable. A muted thud, a sharp inhale, then the sudden sensation of warmth. She stumbled slightly, and instinct, ingrained deep into his bones, made him reach for her.
His hands found her arms, pulling her toward him, holding on longer than necessary. A fraction of a second too long.
For a moment, the world stood still.
Evin.
But for Bas, it felt like someone had cracked his chest open and ripped something out with their bare hands.
She was so close he could feel her breath on his skin. Her perfume mixed with the bitter taste of alcohol still lingering on his tongue.
Her eyes widened—not in fear, but in that kind of stunned reaction that was so much more than just an accidental collision.
He could feel her heart pounding beneath his touch, sense the tension in her muscles, th e silent resistance she wasn’t quite able to summon.
A single blink.
Then, she tore herself away.
Not hurried. But firm. Too firm. Almost annoyed. Like a reflex she had trained herself to have.
He didn’t know what was worse.
That she was standing in front of him again, after all this time.
Or that he still fucking wanted her, like he never stopped.
And as the moment restarted, as the world around them clicked back into motion, as he could still feel the lingering warmth of her against his skin, Bas knew one thing with absolute certainty:
He shouldn’t have been drinking.
Not tonight.
Not when just being near her was enough to throw him completely off balance.
__________
Evin
I t felt like someone had sucked the air out of the room.