Under the Grit

Someone Like You

The glow of the laptop screen flickered in the dim room, casting pale light against the walls. The soft hum outside filtered through the half-closed window, but Evangeline hardly noticed it, her mind lost in the swirl of thoughts that had been pulling at her since she sat down. The blinking cursor on her rough draft was a constant, almost mocking presence, reminding her that she hadn't added a single word to the document in the last hour.

She sighed, resting her chin on her hand as she stared blankly at the page. The project, something she had once been so passionate about, now felt like a weight pressing down on her chest. Gang violence. She was supposed to write about gang violence, the impact on families, the cycles of poverty and crime. But no matter how many statistics or testimonies she typed out, none of it felt real to her today.

Her mind was elsewhere—flashes of the night before coming in waves she couldn't ignore. The feeling of Arthur's hand on hers, the warmth of his gaze, the way he had sung to her in the truck, carefree and teasing. And then... the kiss. God, the kiss. It lingered on her lips like a secret she wasn't supposed to hold. Every time she thought about it, her chest tightened, her thoughts spinning faster than she could control. She tried to focus on her work, on the project that had been her everything for months, but the memory of Arthur kept pulling her under.

That kiss had been more than just an accident, more than just a slip in judgment. It was like something had awakened inside her that she'd kept hidden for so long. When his lips touched hers, everything she thought she knew about herself had blurred. She was engaged to Ben, her life already laid out before her like a neat, predictable map. She loved Ben, she was sure of that, wasn't she? But the way Arthur made her feel—like she was seen, like he could pull the deepest parts of her out into the open—made her question everything.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but her mind was miles away. She could still feel the roughness of his hands when he'd cupped her face, the quiet intensity in his eyes as he'd reassured her. There was something about Arthur that got under her skin, something raw and unpolished but so real that it shook her to her core.

She closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair, trying to steady her breathing. Why did this feel so heavy? She wasn't supposed to be thinking about him like this, not while she was still with Ben. Not while her whole life was already planned with someone else. But every time she tried to shove the thoughts away, they came back stronger—Arthur's voice, his steady presence, the way he made her feel like it was okay to be unsure.

Her guilt gnawed at her, an ever-present companion. She wasn't the type of person to betray someone she loved. But had she already done that by kissing Arthur? She hadn't meant to, it had just happened, but it felt like something inside her had shifted since then. Ben was kind, reliable, and he loved her. But she realized, in the quiet of that moment, that she wasn't sure if that was enough anymore.

She rubbed her temples, trying to dispel the ache building in her head. This project—her final step toward graduation—was supposed to be her priority, but right now, it felt like the last thing she could give her attention to. How could she write about violence, about injustice, when her own world felt like it was splitting at the seams? She knew she needed to focus, to finish her rough draft, but the emotional storm swirling inside her was too loud, too overwhelming.

Every sentence she tried to write felt hollow, as if her heart wasn't in it. Evangeline couldn't stop replaying that night in her mind. The way Arthur's gaze had softened when she'd asked him about the kiss, how he hadn't pushed her for answers, just let her feel what she needed to feel. He hadn't judged her for her uncertainty, for the mess she'd found herself in.

Her fingers tapped idly against the keyboard as her mind wandered back to Ben. He hadn't called last night, which wasn't unusual, but after everything that had happened, it made her stomach twist. What would he think if he knew?