Beneath the Surface

Chapter 2: Elliot Graves

Tuesday

Elliot Graves

There's a certain satisfaction in knowing you're the center of attention without even trying. It's like walking through life with a spotlight you didn't ask for but have learned to master. The stares, the whispers, the admiration—it's all background noise by now. They're like the hum of a fan you don't notice until it's off. As I moved through the campus, I could feel the weight of those gazes on me, like they were trying to decode the mystery that is Elliot Graves. Good luck with that.

Attention? It's not something I seek out, but I thrive on it. There's a difference.

People love to think they know me—Elliot Graves, the guy with the cocky smirk and the attitude that's both magnetic and repelling. They're half right, but that's only the part I let them see. The rest? That's reserved for me and the heavy bag I take my frustrations out on at the gym. No one needs to know about that part.

My friends? A collection of misfits who somehow make life look like a beer commercial despite their messed-up lives. We've got athletes, artists, and then there's me—the guy who ties it all together like a perfectly wrapped gift with a bow that's just a little too tight. And yeah, maybe I'm the bow everyone's trying to untie, but here's the thing: I double knot.

Making my way to the lecture hall, I heard someone call my name. Probably another girl thinking she could be the one to unravel the enigma that is me. I tossed her a half-hearted smile, just enough to keep her interested, to make her wonder if she could be the one who'd make me give a damn. Spoiler: she won't be.

Lena Harper popped into my head—new girl, quiet, and way too serious. The kind of quiet that makes you want to poke it just to see what sound it makes. She wasn't fazed by the whole Elliot Graves phenomenon, which was either refreshing or annoying. I hadn't decided yet.

When I walked into the lecture hall, the usual wave of stares hit me. It was like clockwork. I scanned the room, and there she was, Lena, tucked away in the back, completely absorbed in her notes. I slid into the seat next to her without a word, just to see if she'd even notice.

She didn't.

Or maybe she did and just didn't care. Either way, it was interesting.

Lena's POV

As I waited for class to start, I could feel the buzz around me. Whispers, laughter, all centered on one person—Elliot Graves. I should've been used to it by now, the way everyone seemed to hang on Graves' every move. It's only my second day but I can already sense how this school works. 

As I sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to start, I couldn't help but feel the tension in the air. All eyes were on the door, waiting for his grand entrance.

When he finally walked in—late, because of course he was—the room seemed to hold its breath. I glanced up, just for a second, and there he was, looking every bit the brooding bad boy everyone made him out to be. Trouble with a capital T, wrapped up in a leather jacket and a smirk that could probably start a war. Not that I was interested, but damn, he was easy on the eyes.

Elliot dropped into the seat next to me, cool as ever, not even bothering to acknowledge me. That was fine by me—I wasn't looking for conversation. Or so I told myself. But as the lecture dragged on, I became acutely aware of every little movement he made. Like when his hand brushed against my thigh. Unintentional, of course. Or was it? Either way, it sent a jolt through me like I'd touched a live wire.

By the time the lecture ended, I was a mess of nerves and questions I didn't want to ask. I packed up my things quickly, avoiding his gaze. I wasn't ready to face whatever that was. But as I walked out of the hall, I could still feel him behind me, like an electric charge that refused to dissipate.