make you mine || madison b.

08. mess it up

Arthur's steps echoed softly against the tile floor as he entered the library, his mind buzzing with thoughts of Madison. It had been a whirlwind lately—the bet with Dylan and Milo weighing on him, while his feelings for Madison were growing more complicated by the day. He needed a break, a place to clear his head and maybe actually get some work done.

But as he walked past the study tables, his eyes locked onto a familiar figure: Aiah, hunched over a textbook, her long dark hair tucked behind her ears as she scribbled notes. Arthur's stomach twisted. He hadn't expected to run into her, not here, not now.

He debated turning around and walking out, but it was too late. Aiah glanced up, her gaze freezing when she saw him. Her expression shifted into something cold, guarded. Arthur clenched his jaw and made his way over.

"Hey," he said, his voice stiff.

Aiah barely looked at him as she continued writing. "Arthur."

He stood there, awkwardly holding his books. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, well," she muttered, not looking up, "I actually study. Unlike some people."

Arthur felt the jab and ignored it. "Mind if I sit?"

She shrugged, not really giving him an answer but not telling him to leave either. He slid into the chair across from her, trying to push away the unease swirling in his chest.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the scratch of Aiah's pen and the occasional rustle of paper. Arthur opened his textbook, pretending to read, but he could feel her glances—sharp, accusatory, like she was trying to piece something together.

Finally, Aiah couldn't hold back anymore. She snapped her pen down onto her notes and looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"So," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "how's it going with Madison?"

Arthur froze, the question cutting deeper than it should have. He forced himself to keep his face neutral. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on," Aiah scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "Don't play dumb. Everyone sees how close you've gotten. Just wondering how long it'll take before you move on from her too."

Arthur clenched his fists under the table, fighting to stay calm. "It's not like that."

Aiah's laugh was bitter. "Sure it's not. You're just hanging out with her every day, staring at her like she's the best thing since sliced bread. It's all totally innocent, right?"

His gut twisted. Of course Aiah would think that, given their history. She didn't know about the bet, didn't know the full extent of the mess he was in. But he couldn't tell her either.

"I don't owe you an explanation," he muttered, staring down at his book.

"You're right," Aiah replied, her voice cold. "You don't. But don't act like I'm the crazy one for noticing. You were all over the place after we broke up, and now, all of a sudden, you're super into her?"

Arthur's throat tightened. He didn't want to get into this with her—not here, not anywhere. "It's complicated," he finally muttered.

"Yeah, I bet it is." Aiah's gaze was piercing, like she was waiting for him to crack.

The tension didn't ease after their confrontation, and Arthur did his best to avoid Aiah for the next few days. But it wasn't long before their paths crossed again.

He was helping Madison study at the library, seated at a corner table. Madison was flipping through notes, laughing at something he said, and Arthur couldn't help but smile back. For a brief moment, the weight of everything—the bet, the guilt—lifted, and it felt like he was just a guy enjoying time with someone he actually liked.

But that moment shattered when he spotted Aiah across the room, her expression dark as she watched them.

Madison hadn't noticed, too engrossed in their conversation, but Arthur could feel Aiah's eyes burning into him. The tension in the air was palpable. He tried to focus on Madison, but his mind was racing. What was Aiah thinking? How much did she suspect?

When Madison got up to grab another book, Arthur's eyes flicked back to Aiah. She was still watching, her jaw clenched, and before he could think, she stood and made her way over to him.

Arthur braced himself as she approached, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Wow," Aiah said, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with venom. "You really don't waste any time, do you?"

Arthur glanced around, panic rising. "Can we not do this here?"

Aiah ignored him, leaning in closer. "I don't know what your deal is, Arthur, but this—" she gestured toward Madison's seat, "—is a new low, even for you."

Arthur's patience snapped. "What the hell do you want from me, Aiah?"

Aiah's eyes blazed with fury. "I want to know why you're playing this fucking game. First, you ghost me after we break up, and now you're cozying up to Madison like she's your next project? Does she even know who you really are?"

Arthur's heart pounded in his chest. He knew Aiah didn't have all the pieces, but she was hitting closer to the truth than he was comfortable with. He stood, his voice low but sharp. "You don't know anything about what's going on."

"Don't I?" Aiah challenged, her voice cutting through the quiet library. "You're not as hard to read as you think, Arthur. And you know what? I'm starting to feel bad for Madison. She's next on your list, and she doesn't even see it coming."

Arthur felt a surge of guilt, but he masked it with anger. "Leave her out of this."

Aiah gave him one last, hard look before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving Arthur standing there, fists clenched at his sides.

Later that evening, Arthur found himself pacing outside the library, unable to shake the weight of Aiah's words. He was conflicted, his feelings for Madison growing stronger while the guilt of the bet hung over him like a dark cloud. And Aiah... she still knew how to push all his buttons, to get under his skin in a way no one else could.

Just as he was about to leave, Aiah appeared again, walking down the steps. She spotted him, hesitating for a moment before coming over.

"Arthur," she said, her tone softer this time, though the tension between them remained thick. "Can we just... talk for a second?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "About what?"

Aiah bit her lip, seeming to wrestle with her words. "Look, I don't hate you. I just—" she paused, exhaling. "I don't get it. Why Madison? Why now? I thought... I thought you were better than this."

Arthur stared at her, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He wanted to tell her the truth, to lay it all out and make her understand. But he couldn't. Not yet.

"It's not what you think," he said quietly. "I'm trying to figure things out."

Aiah gave him a long, hard look before shaking her head. "Just don't fuck this up, Arthur. You've already done enough damage."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Arthur standing alone in the fading light, the weight of his choices hanging heavier than ever.