End Game

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Aurora

I glance at Callie, sprawled across my bed with her laptop balanced on her knees, scrolling aimlessly through notes for our business class. My own laptop sits untouched in front of me on the desk. The fairy lights strung above my bed bathe the room in a warm glow, the lavender candle flickering on the dresser, and some indie playlist hums low in the background. I twirl a pen between my fingers, staring at my notebook, pretending to focus.

"So," Callie says suddenly, breaking the quiet, "you never told me how things went with William after the whole... Thanksgiving fiasco. Are you two still on a break? Or did the damage control work?"

I bite my lip, glancing at her. "He called a few days later and apologized. We're not on a break anymore. He's coming to visit this weekend to make it up to me."

Callie snaps her laptop shut, eyes sparkling. "Ooooh. Do I finally get to meet the famous William?"

"Yes, of course."

She grins like a cat who just caught a mouse. "So what's the plan? Candlelit dinners? Movie marathons? Or just a weekend of you two being disgustingly cute while I third-wheel in silence?"

I laugh. "Maybe all of the above. But mostly, I just want to keep it low-key. Hang out, spend time together."

"Mmhm. Low-key," she says, giving me a look. "With at least one double date with me and Samuel, right? Don't think you're escaping that."

I smile faintly. "I am looking forward to it. Just... no drama. No stress. Just us."

"Honestly," Callie says, leaning back against the headboard, "after that whole Thanksgiving mess, I wasn't sure you two would bounce back so fast."

"I know," I murmur, running a hand through my hair. "When William said he needed a break, it broke my heart. But it did make me realize how unfair I'd been to him—shutting him out since I've been here, not letting him in."

Callie tilts her head, curious. "So... he wasn't, like, mad mad?"

"Oh, he was mad," I admit, letting out a nervous laugh. "But I think he also realized how unfair he was being by making me choose. And then after... Nate—" I roll my eyes at the name, my chest twisting. "It made me realize how lucky I am to have William. He's steady. I can always trust him."

Callie groans dramatically. "I still can't believe what Nate pulled."

My chest tightens as the memory flashes—Nate. That kiss. The reckless heat of it. My pulse stutters just thinking about it, shame colliding with the echo of how right it had felt in the moment. But then the memory of Isla barging in floods back—the smug tilt of her smile, her voice like a dagger. I press my nails into my palm.

"Helping Nate cook that night was supposed to be harmless. I thought maybe it was an opportunity to be friends. Then it turned into a disaster."

Callie makes a face. "You're not the one who should be mad at yourself. Nate's the one who kissed you the second you and William hit pause. Classic fuckboy move. And Isla? Don't get me started. Samuel's told me enough stories about those two to fill a soap opera. She's a walking explosion."

"I want nothing to do with Nate," I say firmly, my voice sharp. "I'll be polite because of you and Samuel and our study group, but that's it. He's tried calling—I ignored it. We have nothing to say to each other."

"Good," Callie says without hesitation.

I pause, softer. "I just... hope his foster brother's okay."

"He is. Samuel told me he's on the mend," she says quickly, then gives me a sly little smirk. "But you have to admit, Nate put you in one hell of an awkward spot. Even though I bet that kiss was amazing." She wiggles her eyebrows, leaning forward.