The concrete stairs leading away from the library courtyard felt endless. Layla didn't remember walking back inside the main building, nor did she remember her bare hands gripping the frozen metal railing. Her mind was trapped in the echo of Sarah's final words, repeating with the precise, punishing rhythm of a physical blow.
"I can't look at you right now without seeing what you did to my family."
The campus corridors were empty now, the afternoon lectures long underway behind closed wooden doors. The quiet was worse than the crowds. It left a vacuum where the murmurs of her peers used to be, forcing her to confront the absolute stillness of her own isolation. She stood by the lockers near the media lab, her damp hair clinging to her neck, staring at her phone.
No notifications. No incoming calls. The world had simply turned its back on her, and the worst part was the complete justice of it.
"Layla?"
The low, familiar voice cut through the silence like a blade. Layla gasped, her head snapping up so fast her vision blurred.
Jade was standing a few feet away, a leather jacket slung over one shoulder, his backpack dangling from his hand. The purple bruise on his cheekbone had begun to yellow at the edges, a dull, fading reminder of the beach in Thailand. His dark eyes closely scanned her face, picking up on the tear-stained cheeks and the hollow vacancy in her expression.
He didn't look guilty. He looked deeply, intensely frustrated.
"You look like hell," he said, taking a step toward her. His tone wasn't cruel, but it lacked the soft gentleness Liam always used when she was upset. Jade's energy was always raw, always demanding. "Did she call you?"
"She met me," Layla whispered, her voice cracking as she pressed her back against the cold metal lockers. "In the courtyard. She knows everything, Jade. Liam told her."
Jade let out a short, sharp breath, his jaw tightening as he looked down at the linoleum floor. "Of course he did. Run straight to his sister because he can't handle the fact that you made a choice."
"Don't say that!" Layla snapped, a sudden flare of defensive anger breaking through her numbness. "Don't talk about him like that. He didn't do anything wrong. I lied to him on the terrace. I looked him in the eyes and told him he had nothing to worry about, and then less than an hour later..." She choked on the words, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. "Sarah hates me, Jade. She told me I humiliated them. She told me she can't even look at me."
Jade stuffed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his brow furrowing into a hard, defensive line. He looked at her with a mixture of irritation and complete confusion. "Why are you letting her make you feel like a criminal? Layla, listen to me," he said, closing the distance between them until she could smell the faint scent of rain and tobacco on his clothes. "Sarah kept me a secret from you for months. She knew how we felt about each other before she ever let the truth drop, and by then, it was already too far gone. We didn't plan the timeline. You didn't choose to fall for her ex before knowing he was her ex."
"But I knew before Thailand," Layla argued, her voice rising in a desperate, broken sob. "I knew what he did to her. She warned me about you, Jade. She told me you were toxic, and I still let you into my room. And Liam... Liam did nothing but love me. He didn't deserve to find us like that."
"Liam was a security blanket, Layla, and you know it," Jade said, his voice dropping to a sharp, raspy growl. "You were suffocating in that relationship because it was safe and boring, and you were too scared to admit that you wanted something real. That kiss wasn't an accident. You wanted it just as badly as I did. So stop acting like I forced you into a corner."
"Get away from me," Layla breathed, the sheer weight of his certainty making her feel physically sick. He didn't understand. He couldn't grasp the concept of loyalty or the agonizing grief of destroying a friendship that had anchored her life. To Jade, everything was a battle to be won or an impulse to be followed.
"Layla…"
"I mean it, Jade. Leave me alone," she said, her voice dropping to a cold, dead whisper. She pushed past him, her shoulder hitting his arm as she fled down the corridor toward the exit doors, not looking back to see if he followed.
The bus ride back to the suburbs was a blur of gray drizzle and stop-and-go traffic along the boulevard. By the time Layla walked up her driveway, her shoes were completely soaked through, her feet numb from the cold.
The front door opened to the familiar, comforting warmth of her home. The smell of cinnamon and baked apples drifted from the kitchen, her mother was preparing a dessert for later, completely oblivious to the wreckage of her daughter's life.
"Layla? Is that you?" her mother called out, her voice bright and cheerful over the hum of the oven fan.
"Yeah, Ma," Layla called back, her voice sounding incredibly thin. She took off her wet jacket, her hands shaking so violently she could barely hang it on the hook.
"How was your second day back at college? Did you manage to catch up with Sarah?" her mother asked, stepping out of the kitchen with a dish towel in her hands. Her eyes immediately landed on Layla's pale, drawn face and the dark circles under her eyes. Her expression instantly shifted into deep, maternal concern. "Oh, sweetie. You look completely exhausted. Is the jet lag still that bad?"
Layla forced a small, utterly hollow nod, staring down at the floorboards so her mother wouldn't see the fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "Yeah. It's just... a really heavy workload today, Ma. I think I just need to go upstairs and lie down before dinner."
"Okay, go rest," her mother said softly, stepping forward to gently rub Layla's shoulder. The touch felt like a physical burn against her skin. "I'll bring you up some tea in a little bit, okay?"
"Thanks, Ma."
Layla practically ran up the stairs, closing her bedroom door behind her and locking it with a quiet, desperate click. She dropped her backpack onto the floor and walked straight to the window, her hands trembling as she pulled back the sheer white curtain.
Right across the narrow driveway, Jade's car pulled into his family's slot. The engine died, and a moment later, Jade stepped out into the drizzle. Before he walked up his front steps, he stopped. He turned his head, his dark, intense gaze locking directly onto her second-floor window.
Layla let the curtain drop, darkness instantly swallowing her room as she backed away from the glass, completely trapped between the boy she couldn't escape and the family she had entirely lost.