Mila Wilson is quiet, anxious and a little bit of a mess. Panic attacks have ruled her life for as long as she can remember - but starting college is her chance to take control. Love? Not something she believes she's built for.
Then she meets Jace E...
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Thursday finally arrives, and with it, the soft relief of an exhale I didn't realize I'd been holding all week. It's over. The endless classes, the back-to-back readings, the awkward silences in hallways and the noise inside my head. Done, for this week. And, as if the universe decided to reward me for all the hard work, Friday's seminars are cancelled. That means one thing: I get to leave early to go home.
Home. Just the thought of it stirs something warm. I haven't seen my mom in two weeks, but it feels like months. I miss her. Her voice. The way she always knows how to make things feel okay. I can't wait to hug her. How I'm getting there, though... I still don't know. The train lingers like a quiet threat in the back of my mind. I haven't decided if I'm ready to face it yet.
This week has been a blur of nights with Jace. Every night. Sometimes at his place, sometimes at the dorm—though he made it clear he prefers his apartment. Still, I couldn't completely let go of my tiny dorm room. It's the closest thing to home I have here, and I guess... a part of me is still clinging to it.
Being with someone again, especially after two years alone, is strange in the softest way. Like remembering the words to a song you haven't heard in forever. There's comfort in it, but also uncertainty. Jace and I haven't talked about what we are. We haven't touched that thread. And we definitely haven't crossed the line into anything more intimate. He still doesn't touch me like that, and it's starting to weigh on me. I try not to take it personally, but the questions creep in—was he just being kind before? Did he change his mind? He hasn't introduced me to any of his friends either, and that little omission stings more than I care to admit. I'm scared to ask. Maybe I'm just hoping for something he's not ready to give.
When I get back to my dorm, I feel a flicker of accomplishment—I've already finished all my readings for next week. I can spend the weekend at home guilt-free. No stress chasing me down. I slide my key into the lock and twist.
"Hey, beautiful." The voice makes me jump, and my keys clatter to the floor. I look up—and there he is. Jace. Sprawled across my bed like he belongs there.
"You scared me," I say, pressing a hand to my chest. "How'd you get in?"
He just laughs, boyish and smug. "Had a key made," he says, like it's nothing. Like it's completely normal to just replicate someone's dorm key.
I frown, halfway to questioning him, but he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a second key, setting it on my nightstand.
"And here's yours." He says it casually—"Don't worry, I'm not asking you to move in or anything. But you're always welcome. I wanted you to know that."
Emotions come over me like a wave. I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I hold them back. "Thanks," I whisper. "Not like I had a choice, but... same goes for you, obviously." I try to smile, though it feels a little fragile.
He nods, then asks, "Want to put it to use right away? Let's sleep at my place tonight."
"Sure," I say, bending down to grab a change of clothes—though I barely need to. This week, I finally left some essentials in his drawers. He was right; it does make things easier. I offered him space in my room too, but he said it wasn't necessary. We always shower at his anyway.
