Chapter Six: Collision
The afternoon sun slanted through the dorm windows, but Maya barely noticed it. Her sketchbook lay open on her desk, untouched, pages filled with half-drawn rooftops and streaks of color that didn't make sense. Every line she tried to finish dissolved under the weight of the day's earlier cafeteria whispers.
She had been trying to keep a low profile all day, slipping between classes and hiding in corners, but the city had a way of forcing people together. And Ezra… he had a way of showing up exactly where she didn't want him.
She heard the door click, the soft scrape of shoes against linoleum, and froze.
"Running again?" Ezra's voice was low, calm, yet threaded with something dangerous.
Maya's chest tightened. She didn't want to look up, didn't want to see those eyes that measured her, dissected her. But she did.
He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, one boot tapping slowly on the floor. The light caught his jaw, sharp and too perfect, and for a second, Maya forgot to breathe.
"Hi," she said weakly, brushing a stray hair from her face.
Ezra tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he had to solve before the day ended. "Hi. Do you know what people are saying?"
Maya's stomach dropped. "I don't care what they say."
"Do you?" His voice didn't rise, didn't shout, but it pressed against her anyway. "Because I do."
She felt the old panic twist inside her. Every muscle wanted to run, to vanish. But she stayed. She couldn't leave—not yet.
"You shouldn't be here," she said finally, trying to sound firm.
"And you shouldn't be hiding." His lips quirked, half-smile, half-warning. "But here you are."
Maya's hands fisted in the pages of her sketchbook. She wanted words—sharp, clever, cutting words—but all she could manage was silence.
Rhea appeared then, stepping into the doorway, casual as if she hadn't just seen Ezra corner Maya like a predator. "You two gonna talk, or are we just staring at each other all day?"
Maya looked between them. Rhea's presence was a lifeline, grounding her, giving her courage she didn't know she had. "I—I have to go," she stammered, lifting her sketchbook like a shield.
Ezra's gaze followed her every move, unblinking. "Not so fast. You can't just disappear when things get complicated."
"I'm not disappearing," Maya whispered. Her voice shook. "I just…" She faltered, because she didn't know how to explain that she was terrified and excited at the same time.
Rhea crossed the room and nudged her shoulder gently. "Ignore him," she said softly, but Maya knew it wasn't that simple.
Ezra's eyes lingered on her, unreadable, and then he tilted his head. "Fine. Stay. But remember, I see everything."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving a silence heavy enough to press against her ribs.
Maya exhaled shakily, leaning back against the wall. Rhea's hand slid into hers, warm and grounding, and for a moment, she let herself breathe.
"You okay?" Rhea asked, voice low.
"I… think so." Her voice was small. But maybe it was enough.
Rhea smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Good. Because you're stuck with me now. And Ezra? He's complicated. But he's not the end of the world. Not for you."
Maya looked down at their intertwined hands, heart still thudding. She realized, with a mixture of fear and thrill, that Rhea wasn't just a comfort—she was a challenge, a spark, something she didn't know how to resist.
And maybe, just maybe, Ezra was too.