August 25, 2024

The campus was alive with energy, buzzing with students reuniting after the break and freshmen trying to find their way. It was the first day of the new semester, and Demitra had already done two tours that morning, her mental checklist down to a science by now: introduce herself, crack a joke to ease the awkwardness, point out the most useful buildings, warn them about the unreliable campus Wi-Fi, and finally hand them off, leaving them to their fate as university students.

Demitra tapped her fingers rhythmically against her phone case, taking a second to glance at her reflection in a nearby glass door. Her hair was wild and curly as always, refusing to be tamed, and she liked it that way. She adjusted her gold hoop earrings and pulled her shirt down over her slight belly. She liked to look confident and put-together on these tours, especially since she knew the incoming students would likely follow her on social media by the end of the day. It was a perk of being a YouTuber and campus influencer.

But today, something was different. Today, she had been assigned to give a tour to a transfer student from England, some girl named Atlas Bertoni. Demitra had mentally written it off as another routine task—quick introductions, some polite banter, and she'd be off to help edit her and her sisters latest videos about their summer vacation in japan.

Then she saw her.

Atlas Bertoni was standing by the administration building, looking at her phone with an air of casual confidence. She was taller than Demitra had expected, lean and muscular in a way that suggested she was athletic, but not obsessively so. Her golden skin seemed to glow under the soft August sunlight, and her locs hung down in a loose, natural style that framed her face perfectly. The locs were thick, a dark shade of brown, and they cascaded to her shoulders with an effortless kind of cool. But it was her eyes that made Demitra pause: a warm, amber-hazel that held a calm intensity, as if they saw more than they let on. Atlas looked up from her phone, caught Demitra's gaze, and smiled.

"Hey, you must be Demitra," Atlas said, her low voice carrying a soft, lilting accent. Her words were slow, deliberate, as if savoring each syllable, and the way she said Demitra's name felt like a caress. She extended a hand, casual but confident, her fingers long and delicate despite her strength.

For a brief second, Demitra felt a flash of irritation, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the way Atlas looked at her, like she could see right through her. Or maybe it was the fact that she'd felt her cheeks warm under that gaze. Demitra never got flustered; she was the one who made other people feel flustered.

"Yeah," she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to Atlas. But she took Atlas's hand, giving it a firm shake, hoping to remind herself who was in charge here. "Alright, Buddy. Let's get this over with."

Atlas didn't seem fazed by Demitra's curt tone. In fact, she looked more amused than anything, her lips curving up in a smirk as she raised an eyebrow. "Lead the way, mami."

Demitra nearly choked. She'd never imagined someone could make the word "mami" sound both endearing and provocative. She was used to people finding her attractive, sure, but this was... different. With a scowl to cover her embarrassment, Demitra turned on her heel, waving her hand dismissively.

"First stop, the library," she said, her voice a bit sharper than she intended.

Atlas just chuckled softly behind her. "Whatever you say, boss."

They walked in silence for a few moments, Demitra struggling to focus on her practiced lines. She was supposed to tell Atlas about the student services building and the main lecture halls, but her mind kept drifting. She could feel Atlas's eyes on her, taking her in with a curiosity that was both flattering and infuriating.

As they neared the library, Demitra cleared her throat, pushing down whatever weird feelings she had. She'd been doing this tour routine for months now—no way was she going to let some cute transfer student throw her off.

"So, this is the library," she said, gesturing to the large stone building that looked as old as time itself. "It's one of the best on campus, and it's open twenty-four hours during finals week. Pro tip: avoid the basement if you're freaked out by old books and ghosts."

Atlas grinned, clearly entertained. "Ghosts, huh?"

Demitra shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Campus legend. Supposedly some librarian haunts the basement, looking for a lost manuscript. Or maybe she's just annoyed by all the students who never return their books on time."

Atlas chuckled, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "I'll keep that in mind. Don't want to piss off any ghost librarians."

They moved on, Demitra pointing out the student union, the gym, and the cafeteria, all the while trying to ignore the way her heart seemed to flutter every time Atlas laughed or made a sly comment. Atlas's sense of humor was subtle, but it was there, and she seemed to enjoy teasing Demitra just enough to keep her on her toes.

"So," Atlas said casually as they walked past a line of maple trees. "What do you do around here besides giving tours? Got any hidden talents?"

The question was so direct that it caught Demitra off guard. She hesitated, then shrugged, trying to seem cool. "I do some social media stuff. YouTube, Instagram... the usual influencer gig, I guess."

Atlas nodded, genuinely interested. "What kind of content?"

"We do whatever, mostly," Demitra replied, trying not to sound too eager.

Atlas's eyes lit up. "That's pretty cool. I'd love to check it out sometime. Got a channel name?"

Demitra glanced at her, suspiciously. She wasn't used to people actually wanting to know about her work; usually, they either didn't care or just pretended to for the clout. "Yeah, it's just my last name. Look it up if you want. But don't leave any weird comments, alright?"

Atlas laughed, a low, warm sound that made Demitra's skin prickle. "No promises."

They stopped by the quad, where students were sprawled on the grass, chatting, studying, or just soaking up the last bits of summer. Demitra pointed to the main lecture hall and was about to launch into her usual spiel when Atlas interrupted.

"So, why'd you call me 'buddy' back there?" Atlas asked, her tone teasing but genuinely curious.

Demitra blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"When we first met," Atlas continued, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "You called me 'buddy' like I'd done something to annoy you. Was it the handshake? Did I mess up already?"

Demitra felt her cheeks warm again. She hadn't realized Atlas had picked up on that. "It's just... something I say," she muttered, crossing her arms defensively. "Don't read too much into it, alright?"

Atlas tilted her head, studying her. "Interesting. I'll take that as a challenge."

They stared at each other for a moment, a silent battle of wills. Demitra tried to look unaffected, but Atlas's gaze was intense, like she could see right through all of Demitra's defenses. It made her feel vulnerable in a way she wasn't used to, and she didn't like it.

"Anyway," she said, breaking the silence. "That's pretty much the campus. You've got the basic tour. If you want to see anything else, ask someone else."

Atlas laughed, clearly amused. "You're something else, Demitra. Thanks for the tour, though. I appreciate it."

Demitra huffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get too sentimental on me, Bertoni."

But as she turned to leave, she heard Atlas call after her, her voice soft but playful. "See you around, mami."

Demitra didn't turn back. She couldn't. Her cheeks were burning, and she knew if she looked at Atlas one more time, she'd lose whatever composure she had left.