Meaning of Love

Easy

The day after Liverpool felt different from the start.

James saw Elena early, near the noticeboards. She was alone, reading something on the wall. When she noticed him she didn’t look away.

“You were good yesterday,” she said. “People are still talking about the second assist.”

“You heard already?”

“Hard not to. Jake was telling everyone who would listen.” She smiled faintly. “I’m glad you won.”

They stood there longer than they needed to. Students passed around them. Neither stepped aside.

“Walk with me?” Elena asked.

They took the long way toward the science block, the quieter path behind the old chapel. For a few minutes they spoke about ordinary things — the project marks, a teacher who gave too much homework, how cold the mornings were becoming. The silence that followed felt comfortable rather than empty.

Harry saw them arrive at the building together.

He was standing with two of his friends near the entrance. His expression didn’t change much, but something cold settled behind his eyes. He watched Elena say a quiet goodbye to James before she went inside. When James passed him, Harry spoke just loud enough.

“Enjoying yourself?”

James kept walking.

At lunch Elena found him again. This time she sat at the end of the table where he, Kelvin and Jake usually ate. Jake looked surprised. Kelvin simply moved his tray to make space.

They didn’t talk about football. Elena asked what kind of films he liked. James admitted he mostly watched old action movies with his father when he was younger. She scrunched her nose and told him those were terrible. When he asked what she preferred, she listed quiet stories with complicated characters. He made a dry comment about how that explained her taste in people, and she actually laughed — a real, unguarded sound that made Jake glance over in surprise. Later she asked about his favourite meal from home. He described his mother’s stew in simple words. Elena listened as if it mattered. By the time she left the table, the easy feeling between them had settled deeper.

Across the hall Harry sat with his usual group. He barely ate. His eyes kept returning to Elena’s profile, to the way she leaned slightly toward James when she laughed. One of his friends said something to him. Harry didn’t answer. He just kept watching, jaw tight, fingers drumming once on the table before he forced them still.

Later that afternoon James had a free period. He went to the library. Elena was already there, at a table by the window. She looked up as if she had been waiting.

“Sit,” she said simply.

They worked side by side for almost an hour — her on an essay, him on physics notes. Every now and then one of them would say something small and the other would answer. Once Elena reached across to point at a line in his book and her fingers rested on his wrist for a second longer than necessary. James felt the touch travel all the way up his arm.

When the period ended they packed their things slowly.

“I like this,” Elena said quietly. “Being with you like this. It feels easy.”

James met her eyes. “Yeah. It does,” he said softly, his gaze locked with hers.

Outside the library Harry was waiting in the corridor, pretending to check his phone. He looked up as they came out together. The bitterness in his face was no longer hidden. He stared at James with open dislike, then at Elena with something closer to anger. Elena noticed. Her steps faltered for half a second. Then she kept walking beside James as if Harry were not there.

That night in the dorm Jake spoke first.

“He’s going to do something,” he said. “Harry. You can see it.”

Kelvin nodded. “He’s not used to losing. Not at football. Not with her.”

James lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He could still feel the place on his wrist where Elena’s fingers had rested. He could still see the look on Harry’s face outside the library.

Something was building.

And this time it would not stay quiet for long