The first day of the semester always felt like the world was hitting the reset button—new textbooks, new professors, new gossip swirling through the hallways of Northbridge University.
Unfortunately, none of that ever applied to me.
Because no matter how many semesters passed, one rumor refused to die.
"Aria!"
A group of girls waved at me as I walked toward the Literature building. "Are you waiting for Adrian today? I thought he usually walks you to class."
I forced a small smile. "He's busy with council work."
"He's always busy," another girl sighed dreamily. "I wish he was 'busy' with me."
They laughed. I didn't.
I walked away politely, tightening my grip on my notebook. They didn't mean any harm. This rumor had existed since our first year of high school: Adrian Hale and Aria Mendez are basically dating.
He never denied it.
I never corrected it.
At first, it was harmless. Then it became annoying. Eventually, it simply became… exhausting.
The campus courtyard buzzed with noise as students hurried to their classes. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting warm patches along the stone path. Everything around me felt alive—moving forward—except for the story people had written about my life.
I pushed open the door to my Creative Writing classroom. Rows of chairs, the smell of old books, and papers taped to the board. I loved everything about this place. Words were predictable. People weren't.
"Aria, hey!"
Professor Carter gave me one of his gentle smiles. He always arrived early. "New semester, new stories. Ready?"
I nodded. "More than ready."
"Good. Your writing has matured a lot. Don't hide your voice this year."
If only it were that easy.
The room slowly filled with students until the last person walked in—and the air shifted slightly. A girl I had never seen before stepped inside. She had long dark hair, a soft expression, and eyes that flicked nervously around the classroom.
A whisper spread instantly.
"That's the new transfer."
"She got in with a hardship scholarship."
"I heard she's from out of state."
"She's cute."
I caught her eye for a moment. She smiled shyly. I returned it.
Before we could speak, the door opened one last time.
Adrian Hale walked in, sunlight following him as if it needed the attention he already received. Tall, immaculate, perfect posture, perfect smile—Northbridge's golden boy.
The room softened at his presence. It always did.
"Morning," he greeted the class, then glanced at me. "You're early again, Aria."
I nodded stiffly. "Routine."
He sat beside me without asking. He always did. It wasn't because he liked me—at least not in the way everyone assumed. Adrian liked the idea of being admired, of controlling a narrative. And I was a convenient part of it.
But today… something was off.
His attention wasn't on me.
He was watching the new girl.
After Class
As soon as the lecture ended, students crowded around Adrian, congratulating him on his re-election to the student council. The new girl stood quietly near the window, hugging her books.
Adrian walked right up to her.
"You're Mia, right?" he asked, voice warm and gentle in a way I hadn't heard in a long time.
She blinked in surprise. "Um… yes."
"I saw your name on the transfer list." He smiled. "If you need help adjusting here, I can show you around."
I paused mid-step. Show her around? Adrian hadn't even walked me to class in two months, but suddenly he had time for introductions?
Mia shook her head politely. "Oh, I—I don't want to bother you."
"It's not a bother," Adrian replied softly. "We take care of new students here."
The girls nearby swooned. Someone whispered, "He's so kind."
I left the room quickly.
For the first time in a long time, the rumor about us felt heavier than usual—like a chain dragging behind me. And I didn't know why.
Lunchtime
The cafeteria smelled like fried chicken and cheap coffee—comforting, in a strange way. I sat with my roommates Tasha and Lianne.
"Okay, spill," Tasha said the moment she sat down. "Why do you look like someone kicked your emotions?"
"Nothing happened," I lied.
Lianne lowered her voice. "Is it Adrian again?"
I stabbed my fork into my salad. "Can we not talk about him for once?"
"Then talk about you," Tasha insisted. "What's wrong?"
"I just…" I hesitated. "I feel like something is shifting. And I don't know how to explain it."
Tasha rolled her eyes. "That boy doesn't deserve to orbit your life, rumor or not."
"He's still my friend," I whispered.
"Friends don't treat you like a rumor they own," she fired back.
I opened my mouth to respond—but the cafeteria doors opened and the room buzzed.
Adrian walked in with Mia beside him.
Of course.
He carried her tray. He found her a seat. He spoke to her like she was delicate glass he wanted to protect.
My stomach twisted.
Not in jealousy.
In realization.
Tasha slammed her hands on the table. "Oh hell no. He didn't."
I looked down, forcing myself to breathe.
Evening Class
By late afternoon, the weight of the day had drained me. I walked into the general literature lecture hall, choosing a seat near the back.
That's when I noticed him.
Jayden Ross.
Alone. Hoodie on. Headphones in. A slouched posture that screamed, Don't talk to me.
His desk was covered in stickers—bands, codes, something scratched out aggressively.
Everyone avoided him. Rumors said he got into fights. Rumors said he failed two classes. Rumors said his temper was unpredictable.
Rumors, rumors, rumors.
I knew better than to trust rumors.
Class began. Students whispered about Adrian's sudden "interest" in the transfer girl.
I tried to focus, I really did.
But I saw Jayden's eyes shift to me once.
Just once.
A detached, disinterested glance…
yet somehow sharper than anyone else's.
As if he already knew I was falling apart quietly.
End of the Day
I stepped out into the courtyard. The sun had set, the sky tinted pink and gold. Students left in groups, laughing, arguing, living freely.
I stood alone.
A cold breeze brushed my face, stirring my hair.
My phone buzzed.
Adrian:
Aria, can we talk tomorrow? It's important.
I stared at the message.
Important usually meant inconvenient—for me.
I didn't reply.
As I walked back to the dorms, a figure leaned against the railing near the stairs—dark hoodie, dim light hitting his face.
Jayden.
He wasn't looking at me.
He wasn't looking at anything.
Just smoking quietly, lost in his own world.
But when I walked past him, he spoke.
"Your friend," he said without lifting his gaze, "is an idiot."
I froze.
He flicked his cigarette into the bin.
Finally looked at me.
Sharp eyes. Cold voice.
"But you already know that."
Then he walked away.
Leaving me with a single thought:
Why did a complete stranger understand me better than the boy who'd been in my life for years?