POV: James
James had a schedule that was filled to the brim. In the mornings, he would go to the gym to get a quick workout in before returning for a shower and getting ready for his first class of the day. His courses were so tightly packed that he would often have to run between buildings to get there in time – maybe he had signed up for too many courses, he thought, thinking about who would be entitled to an *I told you so*. After his courses, he barely had enough time to return home and prepare a delicious meal. He liked cooking, so the time that would take out of his day was not negotiable. His ancient literature course took up the time from his evenings, where he spent time reading, and his biology course took up his weekend time away, where he would study up on general flora, the current topic.
Yet on his way home for dinner one evening, he somehow managed to get distracted by a pathway of black petals leading from his front door and continued spread out over one of the walkways in another direction. He smiled to himself, maybe it was something Alex – who had quickly become more than just a flirt, he thought – had laid out to surprise him.
He followed the petals without thinking more of it.
James did not return the following week, nor the week after.
***
POV: Layla
"I received a text from James the other day," Layla said to Marisha. They were sitting in front of the TV, watching a romcom to destress from a tough week of classes. They had popped popcorn enough for an entire football team and had put on cozy socks and blankets to get in the mood. They had even lit a candle as well. However, Layla had taken time to point out that it could be bad for your lungs or something. But as she could not remember her source, Marisha had dismissed her and lit a couple of extra candles.
"Huh?" Marisha asked, but Layla suspected that she was only listening with one ear. "A text."
She paused the movie, "Yeah, it was kinda weird, do you wanna hear it?"
"Sure," Marisha nodded, turning her head towards her.
"Okay, so it reads: Hey, I am a little busy, don't expect to hear from me right now," Layla read and looked up at Marisha. "Does it not sound odd to you?"
She nodded, "kinda, though he is probably just as stressed as we are about this whole university deal. He probably just wanted to give you a heads up."
Layla bopped her head from side to side, "I don't know… Nah, you are probably right."
***
Layla had her test from Professor Elijah Johnson back in her hand within the same week. And he had been right, she would have to do better on the next one, she thought as she looked down over it. Mistake after stupid mistake sprang into her eyes, and she could feel a pair of eyes over her shoulders.
"Want any help with that?" a voice asked her.
Victor, she immediately knew it was him. She did not even look towards him to answer, "Thank you, I am fine, I just need to get my focus back." There was no point in hiding that this was not the best she could do. This was sub-standard. And as this was only the start of the semester, it would get harder from here, and she would have to pick up the slack immediately if she was to avoid falling any further behind.
"Suit yourself," he said, and Layla could hear the smirk that was plastered over his face and imagine the entitlement in the way he carried himself. "I was just thinking you might be interested in an exclusive and secret study group."
Layla folded her test neatly before turning around with lifted eyebrows, "exclusive, secret study group?" she asked in a sceptical tone.
"I knew that would catch your attention," he grinned and sat down on the small table in front of her, so that their legs could touch if any of them moved in the slightest.
He leaned in closer to her and whispered, "It is put together by Elijah; he cherry-picked the brightest students for private debates on the topics in class. Very high reward."
She felt the sting hit her in the chest before anywhere else. It was as cold as ice, spreading through her body, sending shivers down her spine. She had not been picked. The shivers continued in her arms. She was not among the brightest. The sting hit her brain, leaving her numb. She was a disappointment. She could not speak.
"And we are allowed to invite a guest of our choosing," he continued. "I should be delighted to have you accompany me as my guest to a discussion session. You might learn something."
She felt her head nodding before she consciously decided to, "Alright," she quacked. She supposed she would have to accept any offer of help. She felt another pair of eyes on her; Professor Elijah Johnson was looking at her. Her cheeks flushed warm, with the two men looking at her. She did not want their eyes to look at her right now; she neither wanted their pity nor any other feeling they could have towards her.
"Alright," Victor said, leaning back as he spoke, "looking forward to it."
She could not decipher whether his words were genuine. But maybe it did not matter. She would get the help she needed, the practice, and then she would never have to accept anything more from him. Yet she supposed she was indebted to him now. She hated the feeling.
"Thank you," she begrudgingly said.
"There is no need to thank me, darling," Victor said, "after all, the competition would be no fun if you gave up already."
She crossed her arms. "I had no intention of giving up."
"Hadn't you?" he asked. "That result looks like it," he said and gestured towards the test in her hand, which she had folded so as not to reveal its contents. "Anyway," he said, "here is my number." He handed her a piece of paper. "See you tomorrow at dinner time. I will text you the address – I will be hosting."