...
The next morning, the dorm felt heavier than usual. Every creak of the floor, every whisper from Marvel and Mia seemed amplified. I couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were always on me, watching, waiting for me to slip.
I kept to myself, moving quietly around the room, packing my bag for classes, making sure I didn't touch anything that didn't belong to me. Cassie was already gone—probably off to her lecture—but Marvel and Mia were still up, sitting close on Marvel's bed, whispering, laughing.
I tried not to look, tried to act like I wasn't paying attention. But the glance Marvel threw in my direction made my stomach twist. She was smiling, but there was a spark in her eyes—one I had learned to recognize. She wasn't just happy. She was calculating.
I took a deep breath and told myself to ignore it. Focus on Sami. Focus on classes. Focus on anything but Marvel's games.
By the afternoon, I had an excuse to step out of the room: Sami.
He was waiting under the old oak tree near the campus library, leaning casually against the trunk. When he saw me, his face softened instantly, and I felt that rush of calm I always got around him.
"Hey," he said quietly, pulling me into a hug.
"Hey," I replied, my voice low. I let myself stay in his arms for a moment longer than I probably should have. Safe. Calm. Finally.
"I… I need to tell you something," I said, pulling back just enough to look at him. My hands were fidgeting with the strap of my bag. "Everything that's been happening in the dorm… with Marvel, Mia, Cassie… I can't… I can't deal with it alone."
Sami frowned, his hand brushing my hair back gently. "Tell me."
So I did. Every whisper I'd overheard, every glance Marvel had given me, the way Cassie had acted, even the feeling of isolation and unease I'd carried for days. I spoke fast, almost spilling my words, and he listened—silent, patient, steady.
When I finished, he just held my hand. "It's not your fault," he said firmly. "You're not the problem here."
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to let the tension fall off my shoulders, but the knot in my chest wouldn't loosen.
And then… the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on the hallway floor reached my ears. My stomach dropped. I knew that sound.
Marvel.
She appeared around the corner, her eyes locking onto ours immediately. That spark was there again—calm, knowing, almost smug.
"Nuella," she said, her tone sweet but sharp, like sugar coated with glass. "Fancy seeing you out here with Sami."
I froze. Sami tightened his grip on my hand without letting go of me, a silent anchor.
Marvel stepped closer, tilting her head. "You know… it's funny. Sometimes people think they can keep secrets, stay out of the drama. But drama… has a way of finding you."
I wanted to answer. I wanted to tell her to back off, to leave me alone. But I stayed quiet, watching her every move.
Sami's voice cut through the tension. "Marvel. Stop."
She smiled, unfazed. "Oh… I'm just saying hello." Then, with a small laugh, she turned and walked away, heels clicking again, leaving an echo of unease behind her.
I exhaled slowly, my knees suddenly feeling weak. "She's… dangerous," I muttered, more to myself than to Sami.
He pulled me closer again. "Not for long. I've got you."
But even as he said it, a part of me knew this wasn't over. Marvel wouldn't stop. She thrived on chaos, on testing boundaries, on making people feel small while she stayed untouchable. And with the way she had watched me just now…
I realized with a cold certainty: she wasn't just a roommate problem anymore. She was a storm, and I was standing in the middle of it.
That night, I lay awake, thinking about every glance, every whisper, every subtle smile Marvel had thrown my way. I knew I had to be careful, that one wrong step could ruin everything—my peace, my relationship, maybe even my safety.
And yet… I couldn't stop thinking about Sami, about the warmth of his hand, the steadiness of his presence. Somehow, amidst the chaos, he was my anchor.
I made a silent promise to myself: whatever Marvel tried, whatever games she played, I wouldn't let her shake me. I would be smart. I would be cautious. And I would protect the little pieces of happiness I still had.
Because the storm was coming. I could feel it. And when it hit, I needed to be ready.