Chapter 9: Initiative

Through the glass window, Evelyn could clearly see the scene downstairs. Noah was walking beside Lila, their figures moving together under the fading light, and she saw the moment Lila reached out and took his hand. He even smiled at her, that same gentle expression he always wore, the one he used with Evelyn too.

She caught fragments of Lila’s voice drifting upward.

“Your parents told you to marry me. They chose me. Noah, what do you think you’re doing?”

Yes. Lila was the one they had chosen for him. And Evelyn was the adopted daughter who had grown up under their roof, living on their goodwill, accepting their care. How could she possibly compete with the choice they had already made?

She had thought about giving up before. She had told herself that as long as she could stay close enough to watch over him, to protect him from a distance, as long as he still called her “sis,” she would have no regrets. That should have been enough.

But now the opportunity had returned to her hands.

That boy was the treasure she had watched for so many years, quietly, carefully. He still carried her mark, whether he knew it or not. And now that he was within reach again, she was willing to abandon everything to take him back, to seize him without hesitation, without restraint, no matter the cost.

Evelyn gripped the edge of the windowsill, her teeth clenched so hard her jaw ached, her hands trembling despite herself. Dark, vicious thoughts surged up like a rising tide, impossible to suppress. In that moment, she made a vow, silent and absolute, that she would drag him down with her, pull him beneath the surface, and sink together until there was no way back.

…

“Why did you quit your cafeteria job?”

“Evelyn told me to stop.”

“Oh.” Lila pressed her lips together, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. She couldn’t help thinking that Evelyn wasn’t even his real sister. Why did Noah listen to her so unquestioningly?

She clenched her fist, then blurted out the question before she could stop herself. “Noah, do you like Evelyn?”

“She’s my sister. She’s taken care of me for more than ten years. Don’t you think that’s a stupid question?”

“I mean… like that.” Lila slowed her steps, walking half a pace behind him, her voice dropping low, cautious and hesitant as she waited for his answer.

How was he supposed to tell her? He liked Evelyn. He liked her very much. But he didn’t even know what kind of liking it was.

He fell silent for a long time, saying nothing at all, and that silence only made Lila more uneasy.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly. “Is it… something you can’t tell me?”

“We’re at your dorm.”

Noah turned around abruptly. Lila didn’t stop in time and bumped straight into him, then immediately stepped back, instinctively putting distance between them. Part of it was embarrassment, part of it was fear of upsetting him.

Noah understood it too. The two of them had always moved slowly when it came to anything romantic. Even now, as adults with their own lives, they still carried that awkward, youthful restraint, both carefully keeping their distance, neither daring to take the initiative.

She had once believed they were certain about each other. Lila had thought there was plenty of time, that they could inch closer little by little, that one day she would give everything to him.

But somehow, without warning, they had drifted apart. Somehow, they had broken up.

She stopped pressing him on the questions he kept avoiding and instead forced herself to face the answer she didn’t want, tearing at her own wound.

“Then, Noah… why did you break up with me?”

His lashes fluttered, and he let out a long breath. “I’m tired. Really tired. Lila, let’s both take a break.”

With that, he turned and walked away without hesitation, leaving her standing alone in the cold evening wind, her slender shadow swaying under the streetlights.

…

When Noah got back to the dorm, his two roommates were in the middle of a loud online game, shouting back and forth until his head hurt. Unable to focus on his work, he stepped out onto the balcony to get some air.

He closed the sliding door behind him, muting the noise, then took out his phone and checked his messages.

Aside from a few persistent ads and spam notifications, there was nothing worth reading. He opened his chat with Lila and realized, strangely, that all of their past messages were gone.

He couldn’t figure out why and assumed they’d been deleted accidentally when the system cleared old data.

It wasn’t as if there was much worth keeping anyway. Aside from the usual good mornings and good nights, most of it had been messages asking him to do things for her.

Earlier, Lila had seemed to lower herself for the first time, softening her attitude. He had never seen the proud Lila beg or hold onto someone like that, and it had surprised him.

As her childhood friend, Noah wanted to see her grow and change. He wondered if he had been too cold, staring at the screen as if considering making it up to her, but after thinking it through, he gave up.

Letting her calm down, learn to consider others for a change, didn’t seem like a bad thing.

A new message suddenly popped up at the top of the screen.

Evelyn:

Do you want to go to the mall with me tomorrow? We can pick up some household stuff, restock groceries, and look at dishes you like.

Noah:

I can go in the afternoon. I have class in the morning.

Evelyn:

Deal. Don’t stand me up.

Noah:

I wouldn’t dare.

Lila’s question resurfaced in his mind.

Do you like Evelyn?

Evelyn… Right. He couldn’t call her that. One of the things she hated most was him using her full name, acting too casual. He had been punished for that before.

Maybe it was habit, built over more than ten years together. In front of Evelyn, he could never quite act like an adult. He always felt slow, a little foolish, constantly being led along by her, like a kid who never really grew up.

Evelyn was fundamentally different from Lila. She never held back her care or closeness. She was open, proactive, unhesitating, pulling him into her arms without shame, kissing him fiercely and without warning.

If it were Evelyn, it would be easy for him to fall, even now, even with how familiar they already were.

Another message came in.

Evelyn:

By the way, now that you have more free time, remember to come spend more time with me. I don’t want to become a lonely empty-nester.

Noah:

You don’t have to remind me. Am I really that heartless?

Evelyn:

Just remember.

He put his phone away and looked out at the scattered lights in the distance. Night had fully fallen, and the city around the campus was swallowed by darkness.

A tall figure stepped up beside him, holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Nate, do you mind if I smoke?” Miles asked quietly.

“Go ahead. Just don’t blow it in my face.”

Miles lit a cigarette and leaned against the railing, looking gloomy and distracted, as if something was weighing on him.

“What happened?” Noah asked.

“I ran into Maya. Tried to give her some water. She wouldn’t take it.” He exhaled a pale stream of smoke. “Nate, if there’s a girl who likes you, and a girl you like, which would you choose?”

Noah didn’t hesitate. “The one who likes me. Chasing someone is exhausting. I’m done with that.”

“But that was Lila. She’s gorgeous. Basically a campus queen. You really gave that up?”

“I don’t have your energy,” Noah said lightly. “You don’t like Maya just because she’s pretty, do you?”

Miles slapped the railing, suddenly serious. “Of course not. I like everything about her. Though yeah, she is pretty.”

Noah sighed and patted his shoulder. “Miles, try to take it easy. Look at me. I even let Lila go. Looks aren’t that important.”

“Give me a break,” Miles scoffed. “You’ve got an even prettier sister waiting for you. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

—

Morning sunlight spilled through the window, bright and clean, and the sky outside was a clear, sharp blue. Every so often, a bird called out, quick and crisp, like it had somewhere to be.

The four-person dorm was quiet, the air filled with soft, uneven snoring.

An alarm went off. Someone slapped it silent almost instantly, and another voice drifted through the room, half-asleep.

“What time is it?”

Noah was already awake. He glanced at his phone. “Seven thirty.”

A year of early shifts in the campus dining hall had wired him that way. He couldn’t undo it. Most mornings he woke up around six, then just lay there scrolling, waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

“Do we have an eight a.m.?” someone groaned. “Whose class?”

“Yeah,” Noah said. “Calculus and psych seminar.”

“Both Evelyn’s,” Caleb muttered, rolling over like the mattress was personally offending him. “Nate, ask her if I can skip.”

“And me,” another voice mumbled from the next bed.

“Same,” Ryan added, sounding like he hadn’t opened his eyes once.

Noah sighed, already knowing how this was going to go, and tapped Evelyn’s name. He started a voice call. She picked up on the first ring.

“Nate,” she said, warm and easy, like she’d been awake for hours. “What’s up?”

“My roommates want to miss class today.”

“That’s fine.” Her voice stayed soft, almost sweet. “Have them send me an excused-absence form that’s approved by their academic advisor. If they don’t, it hits their participation grade.”

Three separate, miserable sounds followed immediately, like a chorus of regret.

Noah lifted a hand in the dark, palm up, like, what did you expect. Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he asked, “So, can I skip too?”

“Nate,” Evelyn said, and there was a pause like she was actually considering it. “Are you sick, or do you have something going on?”

“No, nothing.” He rubbed his face, already smiling at how ridiculous this was. “I just don’t want to get out of bed.”

There was a beat of silence on the line.

“Sure,” she said calmly. “Then you don’t have to come in this morning.”

Noah blinked. Even he didn’t expect that.

“Seriously?” he asked, quieter. “Then I’m not going.”

Her tone didn’t change, still gentle, still affectionate. “Fine. Then you’re coming to my place this afternoon, and I’m going to make you regret getting cute with me.”

Noah sat up too fast. “I was joking, okay. Don’t take it seriously.”

“I’m heading to class,” Evelyn said, like she hadn’t heard him at all. “You guys don’t be late.”

Then she hung up.

For a second, the room was dead silent. Four guys stared at each other in the dim light, and then, like someone hit play, the whole dorm came back to life. Blankets were thrown off. Feet hit the floor. Toothbrushes were grabbed. Someone shoved a plain bagel into his mouth like it was a punishment.

…

“This question, determining whether a series converges or diverges,” Evelyn said from the front of the room, “is exactly why we’re learning the ratio test today. The idea is…”

Calculus was brutal even on a good day. It didn’t matter how attractive the professor was, that only got students so far. There were always a handful who drifted, eyes glazed, minds elsewhere, and Evelyn rarely bothered to keep dragging them back. She didn’t like pointless tug-of-war.

Noah’s roommates knew he got watched more closely than anyone in that class, so they usually didn’t mess with him during lecture. Besides, if Noah stayed sharp, their homework lives got easier. Sometimes his work even turned into currency. Miles had copied Noah’s solutions more than once just to look impressive in front of Maya.

The two periods crawled by without disaster. With ten minutes left, Evelyn glanced out the window without thinking.

Lila was standing outside.

Evelyn’s fingers tightened. The chalk snapped clean in her hand. White dust clung to her fingertips.

A few students saw Lila too. A guy in the row behind Noah nudged him, eyebrows lifting, silently telling him to look.

Noah hadn’t even turned his head yet when Evelyn slapped her palm against the desk, hard enough to crack through the room’s murmur. Every face snapped forward.

Her eyes landed on Noah. Her voice went cold. “Ten minutes left. Focus.”

She finished the last example problem, clean and fast. The bell rang right on time. Chairs scraped. The class poured out, noisy and relieved.

Noah tried to slip out with everyone else, but Evelyn’s voice cut straight through the crowd.

“Noah Miller. Stay.”

He stopped like he’d been yanked by the collar. After the room emptied, he sat back down, waited, then walked up to the front with careful steps, like the floor might give him away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Walk with me,” Evelyn said. “I need to ask you something.”

Her next class was psych seminar in a different room, so they left together. Only once they stepped into the hall did Noah realize Lila was still there, waiting.

“Noah,” Lila said, tight and direct. “Come here.”

Evelyn’s hand closed around Noah’s wrist. She pulled him half a step back so he stood slightly behind her shoulder.

“Do you need something from my brother?” Evelyn asked.

“I need to talk to him.”

Lila didn’t look intimidated, not really. She never had been. She’d felt it for a long time, that quiet edge in Evelyn’s presence, that faint hostility that never got spoken out loud.

Now that she and Noah had broken up, Lila wasn’t even trying to pretend she didn’t notice it anymore.

And why should she back down, anyway. Their parents had always treated her like she was the one meant to be with Noah. That hadn’t changed.

Evelyn’s smile stayed polite. “Say it here. He can hear you. If he doesn’t, I’ll tell him.”

Lila’s expression sharpened. “Evelyn Miller, what is your problem?”

“If you’re done,” Evelyn said, still calm, “he has class.”

She turned, still holding Noah, and started walking. After a few steps, Lila was left behind in the hallway, alone, watching them go.

Noah’s voice dropped, barely audible. “Evelyn, maybe I should…”

“Don’t,” she said, without looking at him. Her grip didn’t loosen. “Nate, you’d better listen to me right now.”

“…Okay,” he said.

Noah glanced back once.

Lila met his eyes, searching for something, any crack, any warmth left. She didn’t find it. His face looked blank, steady, like she was a stranger asking for directions instead of someone who’d been woven into his life for years.

…

There were only a couple of psych faculty on campus, and most semesters their workload was manageable. But one of the counselors was pregnant this year and went on leave, and Evelyn, who’d taken psych courses alongside her math track, was asked to cover the seminar temporarily.

Noah still didn’t fully get how she’d done it, how she’d chosen a hard STEM path and then added psychology on top of it. On paper they didn’t match. On Evelyn, they fit like they’d always belonged together.

In calculus, she was strict and sharp-edged. In psych, she became someone else. Warmer, softer, patient. Students liked that version of her more.

By the time the bell rang, the sun had climbed higher. Light fell across her ankles when she paced the aisle, pale skin catching the brightness in a way that made her look almost untouchable. Her voice carried easily, gentle enough that people leaned in without realizing.

Because she didn’t bite in this class, students asked more questions. They participated. And since a lot of college mental health conversations drifted toward relationships, the discussion kept circling closer and closer to her, like people couldn’t help testing what she thought about love, about pursuit, about boundaries.

After finishing an example case, Evelyn continued, voice smooth and measured.

“So, that’s what pursuing someone can look like. A lot of the time, you have to learn when to stop. Otherwise you waste your energy, and you end up making yourself unwanted.”

A student raised her hand. Evelyn smiled and nodded at her.

The question came out exactly how everyone expected it to. “But what if you really, really like them? Professor Miller, would you give up? How do you know what ‘stopping’ even looks like?”

“You watch their attitude,” Evelyn said. “And if you’ve been clearly rejected, you need to know how to let go.”

She paused, still smiling, still gentle.

“There’s also a condition we talk about in psychology where attachment and reality get misaligned. When obsession becomes too intense, it can warp into something unhealthy. It can show up in a lot of ways, like constant love-bombing, possessiveness, stalking, threats, or the kind of extreme thinking that turns into ‘If I can’t have you, I’ll ruin you,’ including self-harm.”

The room reacted instantly. A wave of uneasy noise, a mix of disbelief and discomfort, quiet whispers slipping between seats.

Evelyn clapped her hands lightly, once, twice, bringing the room back under control.

“If you ever run into something like that,” she said, still calm, still pleasant, “take it seriously. Stay objective. Stay grounded.”