Silent Hearts

Chapter18

The sharp, biting chill of autumn seeps into my bones as I stand by the window of my studio flat, staring out at the bustling campus below. Harrington is alive with energy—students rushing across the quad, laughter and chatter drifting up to my open window. The warm glow of street lamps catches on the golden leaves scattered across the paths, but none of it registers. I'm too caught up in the familiar knot of frustration tightening in my chest.

A month. It's been a month since Isla and I started here. A month since I confessed everything. I thought maybe telling her would finally get rid of the tension that's been hanging between us for years. Instead, it feels like I've only made things worse. She's pulling away, answering my texts late, giving short replies, leaving me wondering if I've messed everything up beyond repair.

I drove to campus early on moving day—my mom asking one too many questions, sensing something off about me. The last thing I wanted was to explain my tangled feelings to her, so I threw my bags in the car and headed out before Isla's move-in time, hoping that by the time she arrived, I'd have found some clarity. Instead, all I have is this ache that refuses to leave.

The dorm door creaks open, and I don't even need to look up to know it's Lewis. He's got that heavy-footed walk, always making his presence known. He plops down beside me, wearing the usual cocky smirk, the one that says he's about to deliver one of his "brutal truths" whether I want it or not.

"Still sulking about Isla?" he asks, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. He leans back, stretching out on my tiny sofa as if he owns the place, his confidence as irritating as it is unshakable.

"Not sulking," I mutter, even though we both know that's a lie.

He snorts, shaking his head. "Right. You've been like this for weeks, man. Look, I get it. She's your best friend. You've been in this thing with her forever, but maybe it's time to expand your horizons. You're Theo freaking Dwyers. There's a whole world out there, girls who would kill for a chance with you."

"Not interested," I reply flatly, rubbing the back of my neck, where the tension seems to have taken permanent residence. My voice sounds clipped, even to my own ears, but I can't help it. I don't want to talk about this—about her. It feels too raw.

He studies me, his sharp gaze more perceptive than I'd like. After a moment, he leans back, throwing his arms over the back of the sofa like he's settling in for the long haul. "Yeah, but there's one girl on this campus who's interested in you—and I mean, really interested. Peyton."

I turn, eyebrows raised. "Peyton?"

He laughs at my confusion, his smirk widening into something downright smug. "Yes, Peyton. You know, the gorgeous one with the long black hair, curves that half the guys on the team can't shut up about? She's been pestering me for weeks to set you up with her, but I've been holding off because, well, you're hung up on Isla."

Peyton. The name sparks a faint recognition. She's in Isla's study group—I've seen her with Isla and Becca a few times, her long black hair glinting under the campus lights, her laughter loud and confident. She's beautiful, no doubt, but I can't bring myself to think of her that way.

"I'm not into Peyton," I say, shaking my head firmly.

"Yeah, but you don't know that," he counters, his tone exasperated. "You haven't even given her a chance." He stretches, letting out an exaggerated sigh, like he's delivering the world's most obvious advice. "There's a party at Bridges Hall tonight. She's gonna be there. Go, talk to her, see what happens. Worst case, you just have a good time and get out of your own head for a bit."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I start, but Lewis cuts me off with a raised hand.

"Look, Theo, I'm just trying to help. You're wasting your time sitting here moping over a girl who doesn't even know what she wants. I love Isla, but she's got you on a string, and that's not fair to you."

His words hit like a sucker punch, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. As much as I want to brush it off, there's a kernel of truth in what he's saying. Isla's been distant, caught up in her own head, and every time I try to reach out, it feels like she slips further away. I hate it—hate feeling like I'm chasing after something that might not even be there anymore.

Lewis claps me on the shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Come on, Theo. You're Theo freaking Dwyers. You've got half the girls on campus looking your way. Hell, Peyton's been throwing herself in your direction for weeks."

"Maybe," I mutter, feeling the weight of his words settle into my chest like a stone. "But I don't want any of them. Not really."

He lets out a groan, dragging a hand down his face. "Then just do it for you, man. Go tonight, have some fun, talk to people, see her. Maybe Isla will even be there."

The thought of seeing her tonight, of being near her, gnaws at me, filling me with equal parts hope and dread. If she's there... maybe I'll have a chance to talk to her, to try and fix whatever's happened between us. But a part of me is terrified she won't be, and that I'll be left staring into the void of what used to be.

Lewis nudges me, his grin back in full force. "I knew it. You're already thinking about it. So just go. Bridges Hall, tonight. You'll thank me later."

I roll my eyes, but the reluctance in my chest eases, just a bit. Maybe he's right. Maybe a night out will help me forget—if only for a moment—the mess that is my feelings for Isla.

"Fine," I sigh, standing up and grabbing my jacket. "But don't get your hopes up."

Lewis's smirk widens like the Cheshire Cat's. "Oh, I'm getting my hopes way up, dude. This is gonna be good."

I don't know about that, but maybe, just maybe, it'll take my mind off Isla for one night. Even though I know, deep down, she's the only one I'll be looking for when I get there.