"Eve… Mom's right outside."
"Then we need to keep our voices down," Evelyn murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and exposing the clean, striking line of her profile. "I don't want her worrying either. But Nate… why did you lie to me again?"
"I didn't. I was just walking around the neighborhood. I just… ran into Lila."
"And?"
"We talked. That's it. Just sat there and talked. Nothing happened."
Evelyn narrowed her eyes and leaned in slowly, close enough that the air between them thinned, until her face dipped into the curve of his neck and shoulder. He smelled like soap and sun and something unmistakably his, warm and clean in a way that made her chest tighten.
There was no perfume on him. She knew that. Neither she nor Lila wore any. It would have taken something far more intimate to leave a trace.
Still, as she breathed him in, something inside her insisted that he felt… touched. Not physically. Just not entirely hers in that moment.
Talking to Lila was normal. They had known each other for more than a decade. A few exchanged words on a bench meant nothing.
So why couldn't she settle?
"—ah, Eve?"
The small, sharp sound pulled her back. She froze, then loosened her mouth.
At some point she had bitten down on his shoulder, hard enough to leave a deep red mark blooming against his skin.
"Nate…" She lifted her head and looked at him, her face flushed, reflected in the wide black-and-white mirror of his eyes. "I need to let some of this out."
"I didn't do anything."
"That's why I'm telling you first," she said quietly. "Otherwise I'd just act."
He swallowed. "So… what are you going to do?"
The next second, she kissed him.
Her mouth pressed to his before he could react, soft and warm and almost unbearably sweet, the taste of her flooding his senses all at once. Her hands clamped around his wrists, pinning them down, not violently but firmly enough that he couldn't pull away without meaning to.
He could have broken free. He knew that. He was stronger.
But the sweetness of her mouth, the heat of it, spread through him like liquor, dissolving resistance, blurring edges. The kiss deepened, slower and heavier, and something dangerous rose inside him, fantasies he had no right to entertain threading through his thoughts as his breath grew uneven.
His heartbeat pounded against his ribs. He caught a glimpse of dark fabric beneath the edge of her collar, a stretch of pale skin that made his pulse spike harder.
When she finally pulled back, the air between them felt charged, thick with something neither of them named.
"Eve… is that enough?"
She didn't answer.
Her fingers were still wrapped around his wrists, nails pressing into his skin hard enough to sting, almost to break it. Her jaw was tight, as if she were holding something back.
He shifted instinctively, wincing. "Eve, that hurts."
The word hurt snapped something loose.
For a split second, something old flashed behind her eyes—memory, pain, a buried scene she refused to look at directly. His voice echoing. His body tense. A moment they had never spoken of again.
She released him immediately.
"I'm sorry." She sat back abruptly, smoothing her hair as if nothing had happened. "I lost control."
"Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely worried.
"I'm fine. I just need to rest. Go sit with Mom."
He hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Get some sleep."
When he left, she sat still on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, trying to steady the ache in her body, trying to suffocate the hunger rising under her skin.
Minutes passed.
It didn't fade.
Eventually she stood, opened her closet, and pulled out the white button-down he wore more than anything else. He had taken it off after his shower earlier that day. It still held his warmth faintly, his scent woven into the cotton like sugar dissolved into water.
She locked the door.
Lying on her side, she gathered the shirt to her chest, fingers tracing the fabric as if it were skin beneath it.
"Nate… Nate…"
She whispered his name softly into the dark, recalling the taste she had once known too well, sweet and intoxicating, something that had rooted itself so deeply in her bones that she could not imagine extracting it without tearing herself apart.
Guilt tugged at her. So did craving.
The room was unlit, the night pressing thick against the windows, and in that heavy dark she allowed herself the fantasy—just enough to take the edge off, never enough to satisfy it.
An addiction this deep never really quieted. It only waited.
So much longing. Just once more.
_______
A knock sounded at Lila's door.
She quickly shut the photo album in her lap and pulled a random book from her desk, opening it flat before calling, "Come in."
Her mother stepped inside with a plate of sliced pears. "They were expensive today," she said, setting them down. "Try one."
Lila picked up a piece with a toothpick and bit into it. "They're really sweet."
"You always loved sweet things," her mother said fondly, pulling over a chair. "Remember when you had cavities because you wouldn't stop eating candy? You almost needed caps."
"Mom," Lila protested lightly, flashing her teeth. "I fixed that."
"I know. I've seen the change." Her mother studied her gently. "You've grown up a lot these past couple years. Especially this time home."
"Have I?"
"I mean your temperament. You're calmer. Quieter. Usually by now you'd be dragging Nate around somewhere."
Lila forced a smile. "I'm not that bad."
"You were spoiled," her mother teased softly. "Nate always gave in to you. We all did."
Her mother's expression shifted slightly. "You haven't been over to see him much since you got back. Did you two argue?"
"No," she said quickly. "We see each other all the time at school. I just wanted to stay home more."
"Really?"
"Yes. Why would I lie about that?"
"Alright." Her mother stood. "You're adults now. I won't interfere. Eat the fruit."
When the door closed, Lila stared at the album again.
Memories flooded her chest, thick and heavy. All the ways he used to care for her. The easy affection she had taken for granted. The public teasing she never thought twice about.
She hadn't protected him.
Now she didn't even know who would end up holding the pieces of what used to be hers.
It hurt more than she expected.
Without thinking, she dialed his number.
"Hey, Lila. What's up?"
"Noah… um…" She didn't know what she meant to say. She just wanted to hear him breathe.
"Did you need something?"
"…No. Nothing. Good night."
She hung up before her voice could betray her.
—
Noah never did figure out why Lila had texted him that night before the holiday ended.
The remaining five or six days passed in a blur of Evelyn's relentless teasing, which seemed to intensify the closer the break came to its end. He could barely keep up with her, constantly on edge, constantly careful not to let their mother notice anything unusual. The secrecy settled under his skin like a low-grade fever, something illicit and impossible to name. By the time they returned to school, the only person who looked truly rested was Evelyn.
Back on campus, autumn had fully arrived. A week away was enough for the old trees lining the streets to shed most of their leaves, golden remnants scattered everywhere, whipped into restless spirals by the sharp, dry wind.
Noah dropped a crushed soda can into the trash bag and straightened, scanning the sidewalk before calling out, "That's good here. Let's move to the next section."
Caleb glanced at the long stretch of leaf-covered pavement behind them and groaned. "Why are there this many? We should've stayed in bed."
"I thought you quit your campus job," Ryan added, leaning on his broom. "Why sign up for work-study clean-up too?"
Noah swapped brooms with him without a word and stepped forward toward the next patch of mess. "I had time. Figured I'd do something useful. I told you guys it'd be tiring. Regretting it yet?"
"It's fine," Caleb said. "Ryan needs the exercise anyway. You live in that dorm chair."
"I'm not fat," Ryan shot back. "I'm… slightly soft."
"Alright, alright." Noah cut them off, taking the dustpan from Miles. "If you're tired, sit for a bit. I'll finish this stretch."
"You sure you're not tired?" Ryan had already dropped onto the curb.
"I'm good. Let me clear this part first."
The three of them lined up along the edge of the sidewalk, chatting useless gossip while Noah worked steadily. He moved efficiently, muscle memory guiding him. He'd been doing chores since he was a kid—sweeping, laundry, wiping down counters—all under Evelyn's careful supervision. The only thing he never quite mastered was cooking.
He'd tried once in middle school, made scrambled eggs with tomatoes and proudly carried them to her like a dog presenting a prize. She'd smiled sweetly, told him to taste it himself.
He nearly gagged.
After that, he accepted his role as assistant and nothing more.
A bottle of water appeared in front of him.
He looked up.
Nora stood there, bright and put-together as always, her smile easy and warm.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked.
"Dropped something off at the department office," she said, holding out the bottle. "Consider this payment for tutoring me in calculus."
"Thanks." He wiped his hands on his jeans before taking it, tipping his head back to drink.
"You guys doing the campus clean-up program?"
"Yeah. I signed up. They came along for the ride."
She hesitated for half a second, studying him. She had seen him working in the dining hall before, now this, and a quiet assumption seemed to form.
"Is everything okay at home?" she asked gently. "Financially, I mean."
"It's fine," he said honestly. "I'm just used to working. If I can save more, why not?"
There was no pity in her eyes, just concern, and that made it easier to answer without bristling.
"Do you need help?" she asked. "I thought they usually assign five people to a section."
She lifted one eyebrow playfully, clearly offering without making it awkward.
He felt heat creep up his neck. Outside of family and a couple close friends, he didn't handle kindness well, especially from girls his age. His mom had never accepted charity, and Evelyn had drilled into him the habit of not taking unnecessary favors.
He shifted the broom slightly behind him, polite but firm. "It's okay. We've got it. You go do your thing."
Nora watched them for a second longer, something unreadable flickering across her expression. "Alright. If you—"
"If we what?" Caleb called.
She reconsidered. "Nothing. See you."
She walked off toward the women's dorms, passing the three seated boys. She didn't say anything, but her eyes flicked over them in a way that made Ryan frown.
"Was she judging us?" he muttered.
"Why would she?" Miles said.
Caleb leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "You idiots don't see it?"
"See what?"
"She likes Noah."
Ryan's jaw dropped. "No way."
"I'm serious," Caleb insisted. "You think she was glaring at us for fun? We're sitting here while he's sweeping."
"That's because he told us to."
"Exactly. She thinks we're lazy."
Noah walked back over just in time to catch, "Summer Professor—"
"What about my sister?" he asked immediately, dropping onto the curb.
"Nothing," Caleb said too quickly.
"We were debating who the prettiest girl on campus is," Miles added smoothly.
"You already had that argument," Noah said. "Miles said Maya. Caleb said Lila."
"Yeah, well, now we want your opinion."
Noah leaned back on his hands and thought about it. He had never really seen anyone more striking than Evelyn or Lila. If he were being honest, Nora probably ranked close too.
But the answer came without much struggle.
"It's Evelyn," he said with a sheepish grin. "She's still the prettiest."
He tilted his head back, intending to stare at the sky.
Instead, he found himself staring directly into the familiar face hovering above him.
"Eve?"
"Care to elaborate?" Evelyn asked, her voice light, eyes curved at the corners in a way that was both amused and faintly dangerous. "How exactly am I the prettiest?"
He scrambled upright. "When did you get here?"
"Library run," she said casually. "Saw you from a distance. Figured I'd bring you something."
She handed him a bottle.
Milk.
The brand she always bought him. Still warm.
He stared at it for a second before accepting it. "Thanks."
"I have things to do," she continued smoothly. "Come find me after you're done."
"Okay. See you."
She turned and walked away, coat swaying around her legs.
Noah stood there holding the warm bottle, aware of three sets of eyes drilling into him.
Caleb broke the silence first. "Dude."
"What?"
"She brought you warm milk."
Noah looked down at it, then back at them, suddenly unsure why that felt like something heavier than it should.