In The Backseat

Chapter 10: Broken Temptation

You know how Mondays are supposed to be universally awful? Like, it's just an unspoken law of the universe that everyone starts their week in a haze of exhaustion and existential dread?

Well, this Monday? It wasn't awful. It was worse. And not because of the usual reasons like an overloaded schedule or a surprise quiz. Nope. It was because Calitrope was acting... weird.

I know, I know-Calitrope is always a little weird in the best, most infuriating way possible. But this was different. Monday started like any other day. Classes, a lot of pretending I wasn't totally thinking about her every five seconds, and me wondering why my heart kept skipping beats every time I remembered our carnival date.

Yes, I'm still calling it a date. Don't judge me.

But by the afternoon, things took a turn. I came back to our dorm, expecting to find the usual laid-back Calitrope, maybe lounging on the couch or flipping through her phone. Instead, I found her pacing the room, her face tight with frustration, her hair tousled like she'd just come from basketball practice and hadn't bothered to fix it. There was this tense energy in the air, like she was two seconds away from snapping.

Now, normally, I wouldn't interfere. I mean, it's Calitrope-we're not exactly known for having heart-to-heart conversations. But something about the way she was pacing, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, made me pause.

"Rough practice?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual as I dropped my bag onto the couch.

She didn't answer at first, just kept pacing, her jaw clenched. It wasn't until I stepped a little closer that she finally stopped, letting out a harsh sigh and raking a hand through her hair.

"Yeah, you could say that," she muttered, her voice tight.

I blinked. Okay, this is new. Usually, Calitrope brushes things off like they don't matter. She's always the one making jokes, throwing out sarcastic remarks, acting like everything's under control. But this? This was a Calitrope I hadn't seen before-frustrated, maybe even... vulnerable?

I shifted awkwardly, not sure if I should press her for more or just give her space. My internal monologue was in full panic mode, of course. What do I do here? What is the appropriate roommate response to finding your totally cool, totally infuriating crush looking like she's about to punch a wall?

But, because I'm apparently incapable of just leaving things alone, I took a step closer. "Wanna talk about it?"

Calitrope paused, her back still to me, her shoulders tense. For a second, I thought she might blow me off like she usually does when things get too real. But then, to my surprise, she let out a long breath and turned around.

"You ever feel like you're not enough?" she asked, her voice low, almost defeated.

What? Calitrope? Not enough? The girl who practically oozes confidence, who has an entire fanbase on campus, who can make me lose my mind with just one look? Not enough?

"I-uh-what do you mean?" I stammered, because what was I supposed to say to that?

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she sat down on the edge of her bed. "I don't know. It's just... I've been off my game lately. During practice, during games... and it's like, no matter how hard I push myself, I'm always coming up short."

I blinked, completely thrown off by her sudden honesty. I mean, this was Calitrope. The girl who never lets anyone see her sweat, who always seems like she's ten steps ahead of everyone else. And here she was, admitting to feeling... inadequate?