The morning air carried a different weight, heavier than the damp dew clinging to the grass. Devon and Kylie walked side by side toward the main quad, close but not hand-in-hand. Their fingers brushed once or twice, but neither laced them together. It wasn't distance it was caution. After last night, after everything that had been said, the space between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was just… loaded.
Students streamed past, some with earbuds in, some chattering about deadlines and weekend plans. A few, though, turned their heads. Devon caught one girl whispering to her friend, eyes flicking toward him and Kylie before quickly darting away. Kylie pretended not to notice, but the slight tension in her jaw betrayed her.
"Feels like the whole campus knows," Devon muttered.
"They probably do," Kylie said, eyes still on the ground. "News travels fast here. Especially when it's us."
When they reached the steps of the arts building, Malik was already there, leaning against the railing with a coffee cup balanced in one hand. His grin widened as they approached.
"Well, well," he said. "Campus power couple strikes again." His tone was playful, but his eyes searched their faces with quiet concern.
Kylie offered a thin smile. "Not sure we qualify as power anything right now."
"Could be worse," Malik said, sipping his drink. "Nobody's started a betting pool yet."
Devon gave a dry laugh, but his attention snagged on movement across the quad. Elijah was standing with a couple of teammates, posture loose but expression sharp. When his gaze cut across the lawn toward Devon, it was a flash of frost—sharp, dismissive, final. Then he turned away, saying something to the others like Devon didn't even exist.
Kylie noticed too. She brushed her fingers against Devon's sleeve. "Ignore it."
"Not easy when he looks at me like I'm a landmine," Devon muttered.
"Then don't explode," she whispered back.
Before he could answer, Chloe and Petrina emerged from the building, arms full of sketchbooks and art supplies. Chloe's eyes landed on them, but she didn't break stride. Just a curt nod, nothing more, before she disappeared into the building. Petrina lingered a moment longer, her expression softer.
"You okay?" she asked.
Kylie nodded quickly, too quickly. "Yeah. You?"
Petrina's lips tugged in a faint smile. "Ask me later." Then she followed Chloe inside.
The silence afterward pressed down hard. Devon let out a sharp exhale. "Guess that answers how today's gonna go."
Kylie folded her arms. "It's not hatred. It's space. They need space."
"And Elijah?" Devon asked. "Space isn't his thing. He wants a war."
"Then don't give him one," Kylie said, more firmly than she expected.
Devon looked at her, surprised. "You really think I'd start something?"
Her gaze held steady. "I think you'd finish it."
A corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.
By midafternoon, the tension had followed them straight into practice. The squeak of sneakers on polished wood echoed through the gym as the team ran drills, but Elijah's silence was louder than anything. Passes came a split-second late. The air felt charged.
"Walker!" Coach barked after a fumbled ball. "Head in the game!"
Devon clenched his teeth, muttering, "Yes, Coach." He knew exactly whose eyes were burning into the back of his head.
On the sideline, Elijah muttered something under his breath. A couple of the guys snickered. Devon caught just enough—some people never change.
The words dug under his skin, sharp and stinging. His fist tightened around the ball, knuckles white. He wanted to snap back, to prove Elijah wrong, to tell him he wasn't that guy anymore. But Kylie's voice rang in his memory—Don't give him one.
So he swallowed it. The silence burned worse than a fight.
When practice finally broke, Malik caught up to Devon by the lockers.
"Hey," Malik said, tossing his towel over his shoulder. "Ignore him, man. Elijah's just… Elijah."
Devon gave him a hard look. "He's not wrong, though."
Malik shook his head. "Nah. He's not right either. Look, people don't change overnight. But you're showing up, and that counts. Just don't blow it by trying to prove yourself in one punch."
Devon huffed out a breath, somewhere between frustration and gratitude. Malik clapped him on the shoulder before leaving, like he knew Devon needed someone in his corner even if he wouldn't say it out loud.
Kylie's day wasn't easier. In her literature seminar, Chloe sat two rows ahead and never once turned around. Normally, Chloe would pass her notes, doodle silly sketches in the margins, or whisper a sarcastic comment under her breath. Today, nothing. The silence was louder than the lecture.
When class ended, Kylie tried. "Chloe, wait—"
But Chloe kept walking, her braid swinging like a barrier down her back.
Kylie's chest tightened. She stood frozen in the aisle until Petrina came up beside her.
"Give her time," Petrina murmured.
Kylie forced a nod, though her throat burned. "Yeah. Time."
That evening, Devon and Kylie found each other on the library steps. The campus was dim, lights flickering on one by one as the sky turned indigo. Neither spoke at first. They just sat, shoulders touching, the weight of the day settling heavy on their skin.
"It feels different now," Kylie whispered.
"Yeah," Devon said, staring out at the fading light. "Like we're on one side, and everyone else is on the other."
"Between us and them," she murmured.
Devon turned, brow furrowed. "You regret it?"
Her answer was quick, steady. "No. But I hate that it feels like a choice. Like loving you means losing them."
Devon reached for her hand, hesitated, then took it. "Maybe not losing. Maybe just… earning back. Slowly."
Kylie leaned her head against his shoulder, eyes closing. "I hope so."
They sat in silence, the night carrying the sounds of distant laughter, footsteps, the slam of a door. The campus kept moving, alive and restless, but inside their small circle of stillness, the divide was clear.
Us.
And them.
And the question neither of them dared say out loud:
How long could they balance between the two?