JULIETTE

I never thought I’d be the girl with a tumultuous relationship with her professor. I’d always been a good girl. I had the best grades, was never in trouble, and graduated high school as valedictorian. That was me until my sophomore year of college. When my entire life went to shit. I mean, my life was a fuck up since I was sixteen, but it worsened when I met him. 

The air was crisp, laced with the faint aroma of fallen leaves and the promise of change. I tugged my scarf tighter and breathed out the cold smoke as I stood at the edge of the campus, letting my eyes drink in the view I had missed over the summer. The sprawling brick buildings seemed even grander against fiery fall hues. Their ivy-covered walls, kissed by the golden light of late afternoon, carried the weight of history, each brick whispering stories of students’ past.

At the center of it all stood the clock tower, its stark white face glowing like a beacon against the dark shingles of the roof. Its steady ticks echoed, a reminder of time slipping forward. Towering maples and oaks, their leaves of scarlet, amber, and ochre, lined the paths that snaked through campus. Their leaves drifted down like confetti, carpeting the walkways. Every step I took crunched beneath my boots, a sound that felt as familiar as the rhythm of my heartbeat.

Shades of rust and gold covered the rolling hills in the distance, which faded into the horizon under a low, gray and rain-threatening sky. Students moved in clusters, their laughter and chatter mingling with the occasional breeze. Some carried coffee cups, their breath curling in the cold like smoke, while others sat on the stone steps. The campus hummed with life, a vibrant contrast to the serene stillness of summer. I made my way toward the main building, its columns stately and proud, like sentinels guarding the entrance to another year of late-night studying, fleeting friendships, and secrets buried beneath the surface. Seeing it all was both comforting and overwhelming, like trying on a beloved sweater that no longer fit quite right.

I followed the familiar path toward the dorms, my boots scuffing against the uneven cobblestones. The leaves swirled around my feet as if trying to keep me company, but my thoughts were louder than the rustling wind. Fewer students were near campus housing; I hugged myself against the cold, or perhaps the silence.

The building loomed ahead, its dark brick exterior softened by patches of creeping ivy. I hesitated, staring up at the windows I knew so well. My room, left behind last spring, lay beyond those windows. The thought should’ve been comforting, but my stomach knotted. Would it feel like home again? 

I reached my door and paused, fingers grazing the cool metal of the handle. Inside, the room was smaller than I remembered, the ceiling lower, the walls closer. My side remained empty, while Maya, my roommate, had already filled her side with posters, pillows, and tiny string lights strung along the wall. I hesitated at the threshold, aware of how empty my hands were—no decorations, no personal touches, just me and my battered suitcase.

I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, the soft click breaking the silence. As I set my bag down on the bed, I caught sight of myself in the small mirror over the desk. My reflection stared back, wide-eyed and uncertain. My sweater hung a little too loose, like it was trying to hide me, and my hair wasn’t as smooth as I’d meant for it to be. 

I tugged at the hem of my sleeve, forcing a smile. It was silly. No one minded how my side of the room appeared or if I faded into the background. I was halfway through unpacking my clothes when the door swung open with a force that rattled the frame. Startled, I turned to witness Maya’s entrance into the room, wearing a wide grin.

“Julie!” she exclaimed, her voice bursting with excitement. “You’re here!”

She threw her bag onto the floor before she crossed the room in two swift steps, wrapping me in a hug so tight I almost lost my breath. Her warmth, her energy—it was a stark contrast to the awkwardness I’d felt since I’d arrived. I couldn’t help but smile as I wrapped my arms around her, allowing myself to relax in her embrace. Maya’s presence lightened the world’s burdens.

“I missed you,” I murmured, pulling back to look at her. She was even more vibrant than I remembered—her wild curls framed her face in a halo of unrestrained chaos, and her eyes sparkled with the confidence I always felt I lacked. She was a walking contradiction, cool but always down-to-earth. 

“Same here,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I swear, this summer felt like it lasted a lifetime. How was your break? Please tell me you had some fun?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Our definitions of fun vary.”

Maya plopped down on her bed, kicking off her shoes and stretching out with a dramatic sigh. “I don’t even want to hear it. I spent half my summer working at a modeling studio, and the other half trying to dodge my mom’s weekly phone calls asking if I found a ‘real’ job yet.” She rolled her eyes, exhausted just thinking about it. “But enough about me. What’s up with you? You okay? I swear, I feel like we’ve barely talked since the end of last year.”

I hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty washing over me. I didn’t want to unload all my worries on Maya, not now. Despite her upbeat attitude, she was always ready to tackle a new semester with fiery determination. But she was my best friend. If anyone could see through my half-hearted smile, it was her.

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. “Trying to get used to being back here.” I sat on the edge of my bed, avoiding her gaze as I tried to organize my thoughts. 

Maya’s grin widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she kicked her shoes off the bed, making herself comfortable. “So, about tonight…” she began, her tone playful, the kind that made my heart sink and flutter. “We’re going to that party at Beta, right?”

I froze mid-unpacking, a pair of jeans still clutched in my hand. “The Beta party?” I repeated, my voice lacking the usual enthusiasm she might expect. The very thought of it made my stomach do a little flip—crowded rooms, loud music, and smelling cheap beer hanging in the air like a thick fog. Not my idea of a good time.

Maya didn’t wait for me to answer. Her confident energy, as she sprang from bed, was infectious. “It’s going to be epic! Trust me, it’s the perfect way to kick off the semester. You spent all summer cooped up, Jules. You need this.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words got caught somewhere between my throat and my brain. I could already feel the weight of her gaze on me, that subtle, unspoken pressure. Maya knew me too well. She knew I wasn’t the party girl. Never had been. I liked my quiet, tucked-away corners and my books, not the chaotic energy of a packed house with music pounding so loud you could feel it in your bones.

Maya loved parties. One for pushing me out of my comfort zone. I had never rejected her requests, not once. I sighed, running my hand through my hair, mustering the courage to express what I knew she was eager to hear. 

“Maya, I’m not in the mood for—”

“I swear, if you say ‘not tonight,’” she interrupted with a laugh, “I will drag you there myself.”

I shot her a half-hearted glare, but the spark of challenge in her eyes made me hesitate. A part of me wanted to argue, to shut it down. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“Fine,” I relented, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Fine. I’ll go. But only because you won’t leave me alone about it.”

Maya’s grin grew even wider, her eyes lighting up in victory. “That’s my girl,” she said, clapping her hands together in excitement. “You’re going to have so much fun, I promise.”

Her lie was obvious, but I remained committed. With a deep breath, I dropped the jeans back into the suitcase and stood up, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at me didn’t scream, party girl. But maybe tonight would be different. Maybe.

“You owe me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Maya winked at me, already rifling through her clothes. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you. Now, go get ready. We’ve got a party to crash.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment we stepped into the frat house, the overwhelming crush of bodies and deafening music hit me like a wave. Sweat, cheap cologne, and alcohol hung in the air, thick and almost suffocating. My feet faltered just inside the door, and for a second, I considered turning around and bolting. Maya, of course, didn’t miss a beat. She grabbed my hand and pulled me forward with unrelenting determination. 

“C’mon, Jules, loosen up! This is going to be fun!” she called over her shoulder, weaving through the people as if she were born to navigate chaos.

I clung to her hand, trying not to bump into anyone as I stumbled after her. My cheeks burned every time someone’s eyes lingered on me too long, and I couldn’t stop fidgeting with the hem of my sweater. I felt like I didn’t belong here, like everyone around me could tell I didn’t know how to fit into this world. As Maya pulled me through the living room and into the corner with our group, she tightened her grip on my hand. 

“There they are!” she shouted, nodding toward a familiar cluster of faces.

Layla was the first person I spotted sitting on the armrest of a couch. Her long, chestnut-brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, framing a face of delicate symmetry. Her piercing, light blue eyes stared at us with quiet confidence, fringed by dark lashes that seemed to sweep with every blink. 

“Julie! Maya! Took you long enough to show up.” Her voice was warm, but as always, I couldn’t help but feel small beside her.

I forced a smile, swallowing the lump in my throat as she stepped forward and wrapped me in a quick hug. Layla had a way of making me feel like the dull backdrop for the bright stars. 

“Hey, Layla.” I whispered, hugging her back before stepping aside.

Maya was already diving into discussion Wallace, leaving me to navigate the rest of the group. Ryan stood up from his spot on the couch, a wide grin spreading across his face as he pulled me into a one-armed hug. 

“Juliette, you made it!” he said, his enthusiasm almost contagious.

“Yeah, somehow Maya talked me into it.”

Ryan’s arm stayed draped over my shoulder as he guided me closer to the table, where drinks were already being poured. 

“Well, you’re here now, so no backing out. What’s your poison tonight?”

I glanced at the red plastic cups on the table, each one filled with something that smelled far stronger than I was comfortable with.

 “Uh… surprise me?” I offered, hoping he wouldn’t push me too far out of my comfort zone.

Ryan chuckled, reaching for a cup and handing it to me. 

“Baby steps, huh? Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

As he handed me the drink, I felt a little more at ease, his easy-going nature helping to calm the nerves that had been buzzing since we arrived. I’d always found Ryan attractive. His look was disarming, a mix of boyish charm and unruly mischief. His hair always looked as if the wind had tousled them. 

Even as Layla and Maya fell back into their usual rhythm of animated chatter, and Wallace cracked jokes loud enough for half the room to hear, I stayed rooted to Ryan’s side. I wasn’t sure how to fit into this scene, but at least I wasn’t alone. Ryan’s arm gave me a subtle squeeze, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The aroma of brewed coffee filled the air as I sank into the corner seat of the cafe, cradling my hot cup like a lifeline. The night before had me feeling groggy, and I direly needed caffeine to make it through the day ahead. As I stirred in a dash of cream, my gaze wandered—and landed on an attractive guy. An older guy.

He sat a few feet away, absorbed in a book, his posture relaxed but with an undeniable air of quiet confidence. The dark waves of his hair, tousled yet deliberate, accentuated the sharp angles of his face—a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and a hint of stubble that softened the severity of his features. He wore a fitted black sweater that hinted at the sinewy strength beneath.

A significant age difference existed, but he held a certain allure. It wasn’t just him, though—it was the book. I recognized the cover, having read it myself. I couldn’t help but stare, curiosity tugging at me. He sensed my gaze and met my eyes.

My stomach flipped, and heat rushed to my cheeks. Caught. Embarrassed, I twisted my head away and busied myself with pulling out my book, though my hands trembled. I opened it to my marked page, but the words blurred as I became hyperaware of every movement around me.

The soft rustle of the leaves outside the window caught my attention, and I let myself get lost in the wind's rhythm, brushing through the fall trees. The golden and crimson leaves danced as though they had a life of their own, and for a moment, I felt at ease.

“Excuse me.”

The deep, smooth voice startled me out of my reverie. I blinked and looked up, my breath catching as I saw him. He stood by my table, holding his book, a small, disarming smile curving his lips.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” he said, his voice calm and composed, “what you're reading.” He motioned to the book in my hands. “It’s superb, isn’t it?”

I stared at him for a second too long, my tongue tied in knots. I bit my lip and said, 

“I’m only halfway through, but… I don’t want it to end.” My voice came out quieter than I’d intended, almost timid.

His smile grew wider, causing a strange sensation in my stomach that I couldn’t quite comprehend. 

“That’s how I felt when I read it,” he said, his tone warm and genuine. “Mind if I join you?”

I froze, unsure how to respond, but my head moved on its own, nodding before my brain caught up. Pulling out a chair, he sat down, radiating confidence.

“I’m Adrian.” He said, holding out a hand.

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to his outstretched palm before I reached out to take it. His hand was warm, his grip firm but not overbearing. 

“Juliette.” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Juliette,” he repeated, as if tasting the sound of it, his smile softening. “Beautiful name.”

My cheeks burned again, and I ducked my head, pulling my hand back. 

“Thank you,” I managed, my voice small and unsure.

For a moment, there was silence between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He leaned back in his chair, studying me with a subtle curiosity, and I fiddled with the edge of my book. His presence was both intimidating and soothing, like he belonged anywhere he went.

“You don’t strike me as someone who spends her mornings in noisy coffee shops.” He said, his tone teasing but not unkindly.

Our eyes met. 

“I needed caffeine,” I admitted. “Long night.”

He chuckled, a deep sound that sent a strange warmth through me. “Fair enough,” he said. “Well, I’d say the caffeine is worth enduring the chaos.”

I nodded, unsure what else to say, my mind racing to keep up with his calm composure. Adrian didn’t seem fazed by my quiet nature, though. He appeared intrigued, as if uncovering an extra layer of me with each moment. I glanced down at my book, desperate for an anchor in the conversation, and traced the edge of the page. 

“You’ve read this before?” I asked, finding my voice.

“More than once,” he admitted, his smile returning. “I keep coming back to it. There’s something timeless about the way it’s written.”

I nodded again, feeling a flicker of relief at the shared ground. “Yeah… it’s one of those books that sticks with you.”

“It is,” he agreed. His gaze lingered on me, a hint of amusement in his expression, as if he could sense how hard I was trying to hold myself together.

I bit my lip, glancing away and hoping he couldn’t hear the rapid thrum of my heartbeat. He possessed an undefinable quality. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I didn’t want him to leave.

Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, his fingers brushing his jaw in a thoughtful gesture. His eyes, warm and steady, remained fixed on me. “You know,” he said, his voice low enough to cut through the ambient noise of the cafe, “I think I’m a little jealous of that book you’re holding.”  

I blinked, surprised. “Jealous?”  

His lips quirked into a lopsided grin, the kind that seemed both playful and deliberate. “It’s got all of your attention,” he said, nodding toward the novel in my hands. “I can only hope I’m half as captivating.”  

My face flushed, and I stammered, “I—I wouldn’t say that.”  

“Oh, no?” His grin widened, and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes now. He leaned back in his chair, his confidence effortless. “So there’s still a chance for me, then?”  

I couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that bubbled up, and I glanced down at the book to avoid his gaze. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I murmured, feeling the heat creep further up my neck.  

“Relax,” he said, his voice softer, the teasing edge giving way to something gentler. “I’m just having a little fun. I didn’t mean to fluster you.”  

Flustered was putting it lightly. My thoughts felt scrambled, and I couldn’t seem to string together a coherent response. He must have noticed my hesitation because he continued, his tone easy and light, like he was trying to set me at ease.  

“Tell you what, Juliette,” he said, his voice curling around my name like it was a secret meant just for him. “If you ever want to talk about that book, I’d be more than happy to ruin it for you.”  

I laughed again, this time a little less nervously, and shook my head. “I think I’ll take my chances and finish it myself, thanks.”  

“Fair enough,” he said, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He tilted his head, studying me with a kind of quiet curiosity that made my pulse quicken. “But I have to warn you, if you stay sitting here much longer, you might not get rid of me. I’m thinking this is the most interesting conversation I’ve had all week.”  

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond, and ended up tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, a nervous habit I could never quite shake. “You must not talk to many people, then,” I said, my attempt at humor falling out in a shy mumble.  

Adrian laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and it made me feel just a little braver. “Touché,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Or maybe I’ve just been waiting for someone worth talking to.”  

Uncertainty clouded my mind as his casual tone stirred no powerful emotions within me. So I did what I always did—I ducked my head, biting back a shy smile, and hoped he couldn’t see just how much his words were affecting me. Adrian’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, his smile settling into something softer, almost unreadable. Then, with a faint shrug of his shoulders, he straightened in his seat.  

“Well, Juliette,” he said, his voice dipping into a rich warmth, “I won’t keep you from that book of yours. But… I hope you enjoy the ending. It’s unforgettable.”  

Before I could muster a reply, he rose from his seat with an effortless grace, tucking his book under one arm. “It was nice meeting you,” he added, his tone light but carrying a weight that made my chest tighten.  

I blinked, watching as he gave me a small nod, the kind that felt significant for such a casual exchange. He departed, weaving between tables towards the door. For a moment, I just sat there, gripping the edge of my book as if it could somehow anchor me. My heart was still racing, and my mind scrambled to piece together what had just happened. Had he been… flirting with me? Was I imagining it?  

My eyes fell upon my coffee. The faint echo of his voice still lingered in my ears, and I couldn’t help but replay his words, searching for some kind of hidden meaning. When I looked up again, he was gone, the bell above the door swinging in his wake. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and sank back into my seat. Whatever that was, it left me feeling more off-balance than I’d like to admit. And yet, as I stared at the door, a faint, involuntary smile tugged at my lips.