The whispers spread through the Grand Hall like wildfire.
A girl near the orchestra shook her head in disbelief. "This is unbelievable."
A second-year student leaned forward in his chair. "I've never seen Christopher this angry."
Liam, Christopher's friend, glanced between Noah and Christopher. "Neither of them is backing down."
Another girl lowered her voice. "Laura's crying."
A boy at the next table frowned. "And Felicity looks like she's carrying the weight of the whole room."
One of the professors' assistants exchanged a worried glance with a colleague. "Should someone stop this?"
A first-year student swallowed hard. "No... don't. I need to know what happens next."
Another student let out a nervous laugh. "This has turned into the biggest drama Oxford has seen all year."
A girl from the table nearest the orchestra covered her mouth with her hand. "DRAMAAAAA! This is pure drama."
Her friend stared wide-eyed at our table. "I've never seen anything like this."
A second-year student slowly shook his head. "I can't believe this is happening."
The boy beside him let out a low whistle. "I had a feeling tonight wasn't going to end quietly."
Another girl glanced nervously towards the High Table where several professors were watching. "Do you think someone's going to stop them?"
Her friend didn't even look away from us. "At this point? I don't think anyone could."
I felt my chest tighten. "Stop," I said, my voice firmer this time. No one listened.
Christopher took a slow step forward, his eyes fixed on Mia. "Enough."
"No," Mia shot back instantly. "Not until somebody admits what everyone in this hall can already see."
Christopher's expression hardened. "What exactly do you think you've proved tonight?"
Mia smiled without warmth. "That one girl managed to make three boys fall for her."
Before Christopher could answer, Noah finally spoke. "No."
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. "You've proved something else."
Every head turned towards him. "You've proved how easy it is to blame one person for feelings they never asked for."
Christopher looked at Noah. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Christopher's voice dropped, calm but edged with steel. "You think standing back and taking it slow makes you better?"
Noah met his gaze without flinching. "No." His answer was quiet. "It just means I respect her enough not to rush her."
The air between them tightened. Alex closed his eyes for a brief second and sighed through his nose, then laughed softly. "Or you're just afraid to lose."
Penelope muttered, "Oh... this is getting worse."
Around us, chairs scraped softly across the polished floor as more students leaned forward, desperate not to miss what would happen next.
Alex reached absent-mindedly towards the fruit platter in the middle of the table and picked up a single grape.
"We're all miserable."
He tossed it lazily into the air before catching it again. "We're all ridiculously overdramatic."
Another lazy toss. "And we're all emotionally constipated."
"Alexander," Christopher warned.
Alex ignored him.
Mia folded her arms, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. "You know what?" she said. "I think Laura deserves some answers."
Penelope dropped her fork, slapped a hand over her mouth, and groaned. "Oh no."
Mia's hand suddenly darted towards the dessert plate. Before I could even register what she was doing, she snatched up a strawberry and flicked her wrist. I barely had time to blink before Christopher shifted where he was standing, moving into its path at exactly the wrong moment. SPLAT.
The strawberry hit him squarely on the shoulder. The entire hall froze—one second, two, three. Time seemed to stop. Mia's smile disappeared instantly. Christopher didn't move. He remained perfectly still, as though his body had forgotten how to react. Around us, hundreds of students leaned forward, forks suspended in midair and conversations dying before they could become whispers.
Very slowly, Christopher lowered his eyes to the bright red stain on his suit, his eyes fixing on the crushed strawberry clinging to his shoulder. His jaw tightened, his fingers curled against the edge of the table, and nobody dared say a word. I had no idea what Mia had been trying to do. I only knew that one moment she had been standing there with that smug little smile, and the next, Christopher had a bright red strawberry stain spreading across his immaculate suit.
I stared at him. "Oh my God. What the heck, Mia?" I immediately reached for a napkin and wiped at the stain on Christopher's suit.
Alex pressed his lips together, his shoulders trembling as he fought to keep himself from laughing. Christopher's head turned slightly towards him. Alex froze. For exactly two seconds, he managed to hold himself together. Then a tiny snort escaped him. His eyes widened, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. Too late. Another snort escaped. Suddenly, Alex broke, doubling over as uncontrollable laughter burst from him. He gripped the edge of the table, his shoulders shaking as he tried desperately to breathe through it.
Christopher stared at him. Alex looked up. One glance at Christopher's strawberry-stained suit and he completely lost whatever battle he had been fighting. Even a few students nearby began struggling to hide their laughter. Christopher closed his eyes, very slowly, and the laughter died. Something about the deliberate way he lowered his head made the entire table go quiet.
"Sorry," Alex choked out, which only made him laugh harder.
Alex's laughter stopped instantly. He sat upright. "Christopher."
Christopher ignored him. Around the Grand Hall, students began leaning forward in anticipation. The orchestra continued playing, completely unaware that Oxford's most elegant dinner was standing on the edge of disaster.
Someone at a nearby table whispered, "He's going to do it."
Christopher opened his eyes. The amusement was gone. Without a single word, he reached for the nearest strawberry and picked it up. For one long second, he simply held it between his fingers. The entire table gasped.
Penelope's eyes widened. "Oh, no. Christopher... don't."
He ignored her. Then his gaze shifted towards Alex.
A student stood up. "No way."
Alex's mouth fell open. "Don't you dare."
Another student stood up. "Oh, we're doing this?"
Christopher's arm drew back, and suddenly, every person in the Grand Hall knew exactly what was coming.
Chris threw it, and that was the exact moment everything fell apart.
Alex's laughter vanished. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"
He ducked just in time. The strawberry flew straight over his head. SPLAT. It exploded across the chest of an innocent student sitting at the next table. The student stared at the stain on his shirt in disbelief. Then he looked at Christopher. Then at Alex. Then, with a slow, terrifying calm, he picked up a bread roll.
One nearby student shot to his feet. "Oh... we're doing this?"
The bread roll flew and smacked another student across the back. That student grabbed a bread roll of his own and fired it back. Another roll flew, then another and another.
Someone screamed at the top of their lungs, "FOOD FIGHT!"
Another student grabbed a cherry and threw it. The first cherry flew, then another, then another. A croissant sailed across the room. Mashed potatoes followed. Peas rained across polished tables. Students shrieked, laughed, ducked, and retaliated without mercy. Alex dissolved into laughter, doubling over so hard he could barely breathe. Penelope screamed as a dinner roll bounced off her plate.
Students joined in, grabbing whatever food they could reach and sending it flying across the hall. Professors sprang to their feet, shouting for everyone to stop, but their voices disappeared beneath the chaos. And just like that, Oxford's elegant dinner descended into glorious chaos. Centuries of Oxford tradition, academic excellence, elegance, and table manners died in the most spectacular food fight the university had ever seen. All academic excellence had officially left Oxford University.
I clapped a hand over my mouth, my eyes widening as I watched the chaos unfold. 'This is a disaster,' I thought. I squeezed my eyes shut for one second, hoping the madness would somehow stop. But the moment I opened them, a strawberry came flying straight towards me. SPLAT. It struck me squarely on my right cheek. I froze.
Christopher had thrown it at Mia, but Mia had moved at the exact wrong moment, and I had ended up directly in its path. I slowly turned my head towards Christopher, strawberry pulp sliding down my cheek. That did it.
"Enough!" I snapped. "God! You are bickering and throwing stuff like small children."
Silence, finally.
Christopher's eyes widened. "Felicity, I swear I wasn't aiming at you."
"You think?" I wiped the strawberry from my cheek and glared at him.
Alex made a strangled sound beside us.
I whipped around. "Don't."
He immediately covered his mouth. Mia folded her arms, looking far too pleased with herself.
"Anyone else?" I demanded, looking around the table. "Because I am one strawberry away from losing my mind."
No one moved. For three glorious seconds, the Grand Hall was silent. Then a bread roll flew past my head. I slowly turned.
Alex pointed at Noah. "Wasn't me."
Noah stared at him. "I didn't even move."
And somehow, that was enough to start the chaos all over again.
"Stop!" I shouted, throwing up my hands as another bread roll sailed past me. "Enough!"
The laughter died down. One by one, the students around our table stopped moving, though several still had food clutched in their hands.
I looked from Christopher to Noah, then Alex, my chest rising and falling as I fought to steady myself.
"I repeat. I am not a prize you can win," I said, my voice shaking but firm. "I am not something you compete over in front of people."
Chris's jaw tightened. Alex's smile faded slightly. Noah looked at me, calm but concerned.
"This is exactly what I didn't want," I continued. "You're turning this into something ugly."
"I'm not," Chris said quietly.
"You are," I shot back. "All of you."
Silence fell again.
"I'm done for today. I'm exhausted," I said.
I turned to leave, but Chris's voice stopped me.
"Felicity."
I froze. Slowly, I turned back. His eyes were intense, raw, and completely serious.
"I meant what I said," he said. "I'm not waiting to compete. I'm waiting because you matter."
My heart pounded.
Alex stepped forward, his voice softer now. "And I'm not playing either. I just don't hide it."
Then Noah spoke. "I'll still be here," he said. "Even if you walk away."
Three voices. Three truths. Three different kinds of love. And I couldn't breathe.
"I can't do this right now," I whispered.
This time, I walked away for real.