Chapter 13 – Draft
Emily stared at her phone, thumb hovering over Riley's name for the third time in five minutes. She wanted to text, to say something—anything—but the words tangled in her throat.
Riley had been different lately. Quiet. Distracted. The spark in her eyes that had lit up when they kissed was dimming, replaced by something tighter, more guarded.
When they were together in the dorms, Riley kept her distance. She didn't doodle in her sketchbook like before, and when Emily asked if she was okay, Riley shrugged, eyes darting away. "I'm fine," she said too many times to count.
Emily wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe the sabotage—the ruined art supplies, the cracked laptop—were just random acts of vandalism. But deep down, the feeling that Dylan's shadow was creeping into their lives wouldn't leave her.
They met in the common room that afternoon. No classes again. Just the hum of the campus somewhere in the background.
Riley pulled her sketchbook onto her lap, but her fingers hovered over the blank page. "I'm sorry," she said suddenly, voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't snap at you."
Emily shook her head. "You're not snapping. You're stressed. We both are."
Riley's laugh was brittle. "Feels like everyone's watching, waiting for us to mess up."
"Maybe they are."
Emily reached for Riley's hand, but Riley pulled back.
"I'm scared, Emily," she confessed. "What if this… us… it just makes everything worse?"
Emily's heart clenched. "We'll figure it out. Together."
But even as she said it, the uncertainty stretched between them, fragile as glass.
That night, Emily lay awake, replaying the day's quiet fractures over and over. The slow unraveling wasn't just outside—it was inside, too.