Chapter 18: Friends and Relationships
Alexander's POV
The dorm always felt smaller when my friends were in it. Not because of the actual space, the room was decently sized, with enough floor to pace and enough walls to plaster with photos and half-forgotten posters, but because of the energy. They filled it with laughter, noise, reckless comments, and the sort of banter that had no off switch.
I usually didn't mind. Tonight, though, the four walls felt closer, the ceiling lower, the air heavier.
Michael was sprawled across the bed like it was his own, his hair sticking up in every direction from where he'd been tugging at it. Next to him, Eilidh sat cross-legged, sharp eyes sparkling as she feasted on her chocolate.
"Do you have another?" I asked her.
"I do but I'll only give you if you stop smoking." She told me.
I chuckled but ignored her. The smoke surrounding me provided comfort most times and besides my brother and father were not here with me so I could do whatever I wanted.
Before my friends could start in again about Isabella, because from the glint in their eyes, I knew they were going to continue their probing especially about Isabella because from some odd reason, they delight from the fact that Isabella isn't attracted to and will never be attracted to me. Bloody fuckers.
I decided to derail the conversation. "Michael," I said, "What's going on with you and Yvette?"
His head snapped up. "What?"
Eilidh's grin was instant, wicked and triumphant. "Oh, here we go."
Color rushed to Michael's face. His ears flushed red, and he looked, for a moment, like the boy I'd met years ago instead of the self-styled confident son of a famous footballer. "It's nothing," he muttered.
"Liar," Eilidh sang, nudging him with her knee. "Liar, liar pants on fire."
Michael groaned. "Fine. We may be going out?" He asked us.
"Are you asking us or telling us?" I asked him with a barely contained smile.
"Telling you." He replied.
"Then say it outright." I told him.
"Fine, we are dating." He told us.
Eilidh squealed, clapping her hands together. "I knew it! I bloody knew it. You've been mooning after her since forever."
"It's not forever," Michael protested, but the protest was weak.
"Since the science project," Eilidh pressed.
Michael groaned louder, like she'd dragged his darkest secret into daylight. "That was years ago."
"Exactly," she said smugly. "Years of you carrying a torch. You practically worshipped the ground she walked on and you did basically everything during that project. You wouldn't do the same for me."
"You are not a bad student." He replied to her.
"That's not the point." She replied back.
I smirked, "Exactly. The point is you did everything for her while she was snoring away."
Michael shot me a glare, but his blush only deepened. "It wasn't like that."
"Wasn't it?" I leaned against the desk, crossing my arms. "You called it the best project you ever had. Didn't even care that she didn't lift a finger. That's when I knew you were done for."
Eilidh laughed so hard she almost tipped backward. "He was smitten. Absolutely smitten."
Michael buried his face in his hands. "You two are insufferable. She tried to help but it was a disaster so I told her not to help anymore."
"You never told us about that." Eilidh said to him with a laugh.
"You didn't ask." He muttered.
Seeing Micheal blush like that reminded me that I was the only single person in the room. Michael had Yvette now. Eilidh had her on-again, off-again disaster of a relationship, currently off, because her boyfriend was sulking somewhere after their latest spat. But still. They both had someone.
And me?
I had a girl who hated me. A girl who tolerated my presence only because fate had shoved us both into the worst possible moment at the worst possible time. Isabella Marquez wanted nothing to do with me. That was the only constant I could count on.
I rubbed the back of my neck, pushing the thought away. "Well, I'm happy for you." The words felt strange, foreign, like they didn't belong in my mouth. I shuddered, shaking them off. "There, I've said it. Don't expect me to gush."
Michael peeked at me through his fingers. "That was… supportive. In your own way."
"Don't get used to it."
Eilidh nudged him again. "He's happy for you. That's practically a love confession coming from Alex."
"Enough," I muttered, though a reluctant smile tugged at my mouth.
The moment hung there for a beat, warm and almost comfortable. But comfort never lasted long in our circle.
I cleared my throat. "Speaking of news...have either of you heard anything? Your little spies usually have their ears to the ground."
Michael's amusement faded. "You mean about the investigation?"
"What else?"
Eilidh sighed, tugging her hair back into a messy knot. "Nothing concrete. Just the usual whispers. I've been stamping out the worst of the rumors, but it's like trying to hold back a flood with a mop."
I believed her. People respected Eilidh, but they also feared her. The girl who'd once flattened a bully twice her size in the courtyard didn't exactly have to repeat herself. She was like Isabella in that way...sharp edges, no tolerance for nonsense. That similarity wasn't lost on me.
"Keep doing it," I said simply. "The rumours are taking a toll on her. The less space we give them to thrive, the better."
Eilidh gave me a pointed look. "That's rich, coming from you. You thrive on rumors when they suit you."
"But the difference is," I countered, "I control mine. Isabella doesn't have that luxury right now."
"Sure you do." Micheal said with a smile.
I gave him the middle finger as the room grew quiet. But I knew it would only take a while before my friends brought up a different topic.
But before they could speak, we heard a knock at the door making me pause because no one I knew knocked at my door. At least not my friends.
So who was it at the door?