Chapter 51
Bree
My college life was… surprisingly good. Both Savannah and Riley seemed like genuinely good people, the type who just wanted some sense of security, some stability in their lives, just like I did. They weren’t perfect, and neither was I, but somehow we fit together. We provided what
each other lacked, filling in the gaps, supporting one another without needing to spell it out.
The only one who didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about joining our little clique was Emily.
She showed up every day, ate with us, laughed when we laughed, but there was something
missing with her. It wasn’t that she disliked us–it was more like we weren’t exactly the kind
of people she wanted to be around. Something about her demeanor suggested a distance, a
hesitation, like she wasn’t fully willing to let anyone in.
Riley and I had started working out together, and even managed to drag Savannah along on
occasion. She wasn’t exactly in love with lifting weights, usually sticking to the stairmaster,
but she tried, and that counted for something. The routines, the camaraderie, the shared
struggles of sweating it out–it all made things feel… lighter, more manageable.
Except for one thing. One big, annoying thing. Gage.
He was everywhere. I couldn’t figure out how he did it, but he just… appeared. In the dining
hall, outside my classes, in the library, doing laundry, even at the gym. Every time I felt like I
had a moment to myself, he somehow managed to show up. It was infuriating. And yet, frustratingly, comforting in a way I couldn’t admit.
Right now, though, I had a brief pocket of peace. I’d managed to find a quiet spot outside, no
one seemed interested in interrupting me. My journal rested on my lap, a cold bottle of iced
tea sweating in the sun beside me, and my pen flew across the page.
Even though I was convinced that Gage and I shouldn’t be together–that it couldn’t happen
because of who we were and who his family was–I still wrote every entry as if it was meant
for him. It made the words easier to say, more honest somehow, like writing them directly to
him brought out the truth I couldn’t say aloud.
It made me feel like we were back at camp, like nothing had changed, like we were still in that
bubble where we could tell each other everything. Somehow, Gage had made it safe to open
up completely, to spill all the messy, awkward, painful parts of myself, without fear of judgment. I wasn’t sure how he had done it, but it had happened anyway. And spilling
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everything onto the page seemed to help me process things more clearly.
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I planned to bring these pages to my first session with Dr. Playton, hoping the words could help me untangle my thoughts, maybe even make sense of the chaos of my own heart.
“I saw your sister in the corridor today,” I wrote, my handwriting messy, urgent. “She seemed to
flat out run from me. I don’t know if she’s afraid I’ll tell you what she did, but I think that might be
the reason. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, Gage, because believe me, I do, but I don’t see
the point in ruining something between you
and your
sister.
I’m not sure I’d even be able to be with you if you knew. And I definitely don’t want you to choose
between us–it would only lead to bad things. I don’t want that. I want you to be happy. I want
you to have everything you could ever want. I just don’t think I’m it.”
It hurt to write it down. Every word pressed into the page felt like a knife twisting inside me,
the acknowledgment that maybe I wasn’t the perfect fit for him, that maybe Gage was better
off without all of me–my mess, my chaos, my baggage. He had enough on his plate, enough
weight on his shoulders trying to live the life that seemed destined for him. And maybe I was
just another complication he didn’t need.
“The fact about her… the fact that she did what she did–even if she wasn’t the only one–it’s just
too much,” I wrote, my hand trembling slightly. “It’s too much for me to handle, Gage. I wouldn’t
be able to forgive her. It simply wouldn’t be possible. Just like I wouldn’t be able to forgive Oliver
for what he did.”
My pen froze over the page as my eyes lingered on the name. Just seeing it made my stomach churn, like the word itself carried a poison I couldn’t escape. My jaw clenched, tight enough to hurt, as though the name was mocking me, daring me to feel its weight.
Fury began to spread through my body, a hot, simmering energy that made it unbearable to even glance at that name. It shouldn’t feel like this–just a name shouldn’t ignite such hatred, such tension inside me. But it did. It did, and it refused to leave me in peace.
I pressed my pen hard, darkening out the letters, shading over the name until it disappeared beneath thick, violent strokes. I wanted it gone. I wanted it erased from existence. I wanted it never to sit on the same page as Gage’s name.
But the moment I blocked it out, the air shifted. It was like my actions had conjured him, summoned him into my space. Shadows fell across my journal, and I looked up.
There he was. Oliver. In all his infuriating glory and impossible charm. He stood there, a king
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surveying his domain, arms crossed over his chest, grin plastered across his face. He was frustratingly… perfect in the wrong ways. If you stripped away all the arrogance, the attitude, the manipulative charm, he could almost be a catch. But his personality alone–cocky, infuriating, dripping with self–assuredness–was more than enough to make my stomach
twist. Still, I had to admit, he was strong, still handsome, still… delicious in the most
aggravating way possible.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice smooth, too smooth, as he lowered himself to sit in front of
- me. He angled his body so one leg stretched out in front of him, claiming the space,
dominating it effortlessly. “You look delicious today.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice lacking the bite I wanted, tasting weak and
small even to my own ears.
His grin faltered slightly. He leaned forward, dropping his arms into his lap, his shoulders
slumping just enough to seem almost apologetic, almost human. It was as if he were
excusing his very presence, like he wanted to shrink down, to become smaller, less imposing
-less him. But the charm, the arrogance, the magnetism–it was still there, simmering
beneath the surface, impossible to ignore.
“I just wanted to talk, Bree,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant, as he stared down at his
hands resting in his lap. “I mean… everything kind of blew up in our faces, and I know we’re
gonna be passing each other in the hallways for the next four years. I just… I don’t know,” he
admitted, shrugging as if the weight of it all was too much for words. “I just want us to
somehow try to get along. Like, I don’t have to fear you walking around hating my guts.”
A snort escaped me, sharp and incredulous, as I shuffled back on the ground, pulling my legs
up to my chest, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. “I think it’s a little too late for that now,” I muttered, my tone more bitter than I intended.
A sigh left him, heavy with frustration and perhaps regret. He closed his eyes briefly, like it
hurt him to hear my words, like each syllable dug into him. “Please, Bree,” he said softly, “at
least let me tell you my side of things.”
“I don’t owe you anything, Oliver,” I shot back, clutching my journal like a lifeline. “You can
take your excuses and leave. Right now. Go.”
“Listen,” he said, lifting his gaze toward me, his big, pleading eyes locking with mine. “It
wasn’t me, okay? All of it… it was Jenna. When she found out about us, she got into my phone, shared everything. She tricked me, Bree. She really did.”
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I looked down, refusing to meet his eyes, though my heart thumped wildly. I should have
known it was Jenna, that she would betray me like that, share those pictures, the texts,
everything. I didn’t know she was sleeping with Oliver behind my back, but she knew he and I were together–and she still went for it anyway.
“Did she trick you into sleeping with her?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly as I replayed
the scene in my mind. “Or did she trip onto your bed and somehow… fall on your d**k?”
Oliver flinched at my words, looking back down at his hands as if searching for the floor to
swallow him. “That’s on me, Bree, I get that, okay? I mean… I was stupid. I was unreasonable.
I thought I was on cloud nine–truly. Like, you’re amazing. The best girlfriend anyone could
ever have, and I was so stupid to throw you away like that.”
“What’s done is done,” I said, my stomach twisting into knots.
I had been a damn good girlfriend. I truly had. I gave him everything–my trust, my loyalty, my heart. I did everything he wanted, never refusing, never holding back. I thought that would be
enough, that it would make him happy. But I had been so goddamn wrong.
“But that’s just the thing,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes searching mine desperately. “I
broke it off with her, Bree.”
That made me pause, my gaze lifting to meet his.
“I’m done with her,” he continued, voice steady and low, carrying a weight I hadn’t heard
before. “Completely, utterly done. I don’t care anymore. f**k her. f**k all the shitty things she
did. None of that matters to me anymore, Bree. None of it.”
I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights. My eyes were wide, my mouth slightly agape, completely frozen as I stared at him.
“I don’t care about her,” Oliver said, voice firm but desperate, like he needed me to understand
every word. “She’s utterly ridiculous. Bratty, entitled, and so not the woman I wanna spend the
rest of my life with. I wanna spend it with you, Bree. I want you. I want you cheering me on at games, I wanna hold your hand, I wanna do study sessions with you. I want it all–but I only want it with you.”
Holy f*****g s**t.
He actually had the balls to do this. The audacity to show up here, demanding another chance. Completely ludicrous, utterly insane. I wasn’t stupid–I would never, ever fall for this.
Not again.
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But before I could even think of a single response, a dark, heavy hand landed firmly on Oliver’s shoulder. Caleb. His towering frame loomed over him, leaning across Oliver’s back like a predator about to pounce. His deep brown eyes locked on mine, a wide, reassuring smile spreading across his face.
“Hey, Bree,” he said warmly, hand still pressing into Oliver’s shoulder. “It’s a lovely day today,
isn’t it?”
“Hey, Caleb,” I said softly, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite the tension prickling my
skin.
Then Caleb leaned down closer, his mouth brushing near Oliver’s ear, his tone dropping low, lethal. “A splendid day to kick a rookie’s ass for talking to Cap’s girl, wouldn’t you say so,
rookie?”
My eyebrows shot up as I stared at Caleb, completely floored by how ready he looked to dismantle Oliver physically.
“You know just as well as I do,” Caleb continued, his voice low, controlled but razor–sharp,”
Cap’s girl is off–limits. And don’t you dare offer a life with her she clearly doesn’t want. She’s
not gonna be cheering for you. She’s not gonna hold your hand. She’s not gonna f*****g touch you with a ten–foot pole–unless we’re gonna shove it up your ass. Do you understand
me?”
Oliver’s swagger, his arrogant calm, vanished instantly. His chest tightened, eyes wide, the
confident mask he always wore completely shattered.
“I… I understand,” he stammered, nodding rapidly, voice small and defeated.
“Perfect,” Caleb said, his grip tightening just slightly, making Oliver flinch. “I’m letting you off with a warning this time. But next time you’re near her, you won’t like what happens, got it?”
“Yes,” Oliver answered immediately, his bravado gone, replaced with an unmistakable fear.
Caleb finally released him. Oliver jumped up, not even daring to look at me as he scrambled away, retreating like a beaten dog.
Caleb turned to me then, that lethal edge gone, replaced by warmth and charm that made my chest tighten in a completely different way. He extended a hand toward me, his smile wide and genuine.
“Come on, Bree,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “Let me walk you to lunch. We can catch up on the way.”
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I swallowed, feeling a mix of intimidation and comfort from this new version of Caleb- protective, dangerous, but completely mine in his attention. I took his hand, letting him pull me up from the ground, and together we started walking side by side toward the dining hall, the tension of the moment still lingering but slightly eased by his presence.
Emilia M
I know we’re all about Gage, and truly, I’m riding that wave as well. But I really love the other guys as well. Caleb, Miguel, even Kenneth, they just have something I love
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