Loving Aiden Coleman

Chapter Two: Aiden and Rebecca

Aiden

“I’m not a child.”

Spencer stands in the middle of the living room, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking at me like I’ve personally insulted his entire existence.

“I didn’t say you were,” I reply calmly, grabbing my keys. “I just said I could drop you off.”

“I don’t need you to drop me off.”

Dean snorts from the couch. “He definitely needs you to drop him off.”

Spencer shoots him a glare. “I do not.”

Trevor laughs quietly, leaning against the counter. “You kind of do.”

“I really don’t,” Spencer insists. “I can find my way around on my own.”

Chase, who’s been unusually quiet for a full five seconds, finally speaks up. “Wow,” he says, shaking his head dramatically. “So let me get this straight.”

We all turn to him.

“You arrive two days ago,” he continues, pacing the room like he’s delivering a speech, “and suddenly you need us for everything. Snacks. Food. Clothes. A ride here. A ride there.”

Spencer opens his mouth. “That’s not—”

“And now,” Chase cuts in, pointing at him, “now that it’s your first day of classes, you don’t want our help?”

He gasps loudly. “You sly boy.”

For a second, Spencer just stares at him.

Then he groans. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Oh, I’m not done,” Chase says. “Because this feels like I’ve been used.”

Dean laughs. “You were definitely used.”

Trevor nods. “Absolutely.”

Spencer rolls his eyes. “I just want to do this myself, okay? First day. Fresh start.”

I study him for a moment. He’s trying hard to sound confident, but I can tell—he’s nervous. Not scared, just… new. And that’s fair.

“Alright,” I say finally. “We’ll drop you at the school gate.”

Spencer’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “And then we’re leaving.”

“Deal,” he says quickly, like he’s afraid I’ll change my mind.

Chase raises a finger. “But just so you know, if you call us later asking for help, I will remind you of this moment.”

Spencer grins. “You love me too much.”

“That’s the problem,” Chase replies.

We all laugh as we head out.

In the car, Spencer bounces his leg the entire way, pretending he’s calm when he’s clearly not. When we stop at the school gate, he grabs his bag and hops out.

“Have a good first day,” I tell him.

He smiles—bright, easy, Spencer-like. “I will.”

I’m not worried about him. Spencer’s always been like that—cheerful, charming, the kind of person who makes friends without even trying.

As he walks toward campus, Chase leans back in his seat. “Give him ten minutes.”

“Five,” Dean says.

Trevor smirks. “He’ll already have a friend group.”

I smile slightly, watching Spencer disappear into the crowd.

“Yeah,” I say. “He’ll be fine.”

And something tells me… Crestwood is about to get a lot more interesting.

“ Let’s head to class, shall we”.

REBECCA

The next morning is my first official day of school.

I stare at my reflection a little longer than necessary, smoothing down my top, fixing my hair, then undoing it again. My stomach is a mess of nerves and excitement, the kind that makes it hard to tell whether I want to run or smile.

“You look like you’re about to attend an execution,” Emily says from her bed.

I turn toward her. “Is it that obvious?”

She grins. “Relax. Worst case scenario, we embarrass ourselves together.”

That makes me laugh despite myself. “That’s… not comforting.”

“It should be,” she says cheerfully. “At least we’re not doing this alone.”

And she’s right. Somehow, knowing that we have the same classes makes everything feel less terrifying. Like I’m not stepping into the unknown by myself.

Our first class is Introduction to Psychology.

We get there in Emily’s car—she insists on driving, claiming she has “main character energy behind the wheel.” I’m still laughing by the time we park.

Inside the classroom, we pick seats that aren’t too far back but not right at the front either. A safe middle ground. Emily drops her bag beside mine and leans over.

“Survival position secured,” she whispers.

Two girls sit nearby and glance over at us.

“Hi,” one of them says with a smile. “I’m Anne.”

“And I’m Mae,” the other adds.

“I’m Rebecca,” I reply.

“Emily,” Emily says, waving slightly.

They smile and move to find their own seats, and I’m just pulling out my phone when someone clears their throat beside us.

“Hey.”

We both look up.

There’s a guy standing there with an easy, cheerful smile—like he’s never met a stranger in his life.

“I’m Spencer Coleman,” he says. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all,” Emily says immediately.

I nod. “Yeah, go ahead.”

He drops into the seat next to us like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

After class, I assume we’ll all go our separate ways.

I’m wrong.

“So,” Spencer says, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “second class—same building. You guys heading there too?”

Emily looks at me. “We are now.”

By the third class, it feels like Spencer has always been there. He’s funny in a quiet, effortless way—quick remarks, perfect timing. Paired with Emily’s expressive, dramatic humor, they have me laughing more than I have in weeks.

By lunchtime, the three of us are inseparable.

We sit together, trays in front of us.

“I’m the only girl,” Emily says between bites. “Two older brothers. They dropped me off yesterday and made it painfully dramatic.”

Spencer groans. “That’s rough.”

“Oh, it was tragic,” she says. “Tears. Lectures. Unnecessary speeches.”

He laughs. “I’ve got one older brother. Sophomore. Mechanical engineering.”

“Ooh,” Emily says. “Smart.”

“Annoyingly so,” Spencer replies. “He wanted to escort me to class with his friends like I’m five.”

“And you said no?” I ask.

“Absolutely,” he says. “I refuse to be babied.”

Emily points her fork at him. “Respect.”

They turn to me.

“What about you?” Spencer asks.

“I live about seven hours from here,” I say. “Hawthorne Heights.”

Emily’s eyes widen. “Seven hours?”

“I wanted the experience,” I shrug. “Being far from home.”

Spencer smirks. “Bold move.”

“Or reckless,” Emily adds.

“Both,” I say, laughing.

Spencer explains that he lives in Fairmont Hills, and Emily adds that she lives just two hours away—which is why Crestwood made sense for both of them.

Before we part ways, Spencer claps his hands together. “Alright, new plan. Tomorrow evening. Café off campus.”

Emily grins. “Why?”

“So I can officially show you around,” he says. “Congratulations—you’re my minions now.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “That’s not ominous at all.”

“Trust me,” he says. “I’m a great guide.”

The rest of the day passes faster than I expect. By the time Emily and I get back to our dorm, my chest feels lighter.

For the first time since I left Hawthorne Heights, I don’t feel so alone.

When Spencer first called us his minions, I didn’t think much of it.

Now, it’s become our joke.

“Tomorrow evening,” he’d said that first day, grinning. “I’ll show my minions the ropes.”

And somehow, that silly promise had been enough to pull me out of my head.

For the first time since I left Hawthorne Heights, I stopped worrying about Colton. About Nora. About Elena. I stopped checking my phone every few minutes, stopped replaying unanswered questions in my mind.

For three days straight after classes, Spencer took us out.

Restaurants. Malls. Parks. Places I wouldn’t have found on my own.

Today, he declares, is an ice cream date.

“Important business,” he says seriously, holding the door open for us. “Very serious.”

Emily snorts. “You say that about everything.”

We order our ice cream and sit outside.

Spencer gets cookies and cream, like a predictable human being.

Emily stares at the flavors for a full minute before announcing, “Vanilla and chocolate.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow. “Bold.”

“I’m just a normal girl,” she shrugs. “With simple tastes.”

I order chocolate fudge brownie.

Spencer squints at my cup. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” I ask.

“That you’d have different taste from both of us,” he says smugly. “You give off secretly intense ice cream choice energy.”

Emily laughs. “That’s oddly accurate.”

We’re mid-laugh when someone walking past slows down.

“Um… excuse me,” the girl says shyly. “Are you two twins?”

Emily and I answer at the exact same time.

“No.”

“Yes.”

The girl freezes.

Emily beams. I groan.

I smile quickly. “Don’t mind her. We’re not twins—just friends.”

“Oh,” the girl says, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” I tell her gently.

She leaves, and the second she’s gone, we all burst out laughing.

“I was going to ask that the first day I met you,” Spencer admits. “That’s actually one of the reasons I sat close to you in class.”

Emily gasps. “Really?”

“But then I heard your last names,” he continues, “and I figured—nope.”

“We do have the same hair color,” Emily says thoughtfully.

“Different shades,” Spencer points out. “Rebecca’s is darker.”

Emily slips her arm through mine. “Well, it seems the universe answered my prayers and gave me a sister.”

Something warm settles in my chest.

Then my phone vibrates.

I look down.

Colton: Hey baby boo, I missed you.

My smile fades before I can stop it.

Emily notices immediately. “What happened?”

I hesitate. “Colton texted.”

“So you’ve got a man.”Spencer Says.

I shake my head, smiling faintly. “We’ve been together since high school.”

Emily’s eyes widen. “That long?”

Spencer whistles. “Respect.”

“I’ve only had one relationship,” he adds casually. “And it nearly broke my heart.”

Emily nods. “Same. That’s why I stick to friends-with-benefits. I’m too fragile for commitment.”

She turns to me. “So… back to the situation at hand. Rebecca, are we happy or sad?”

I exhale. “Happy.”

I start replying when another notification pops up.

Nora.

Then my phone starts ringing.

“Elena’s at my place,” Nora says when I answer. “We were wondering how you’re doing.”

Their tone feels… off.

“We were kind of angry,” Elena adds. “You just left. Abandoned us.”

My stomach twists.

“And you sound… chirpy,” Nora continues. “Seems you’ve made new friends.”

“I’m just with my roommate,” I say quickly.

Spencer subtly shakes his head, signaling me not to mention him.

“Well,” Elena says, “you’d better call back when you get home. Don’t keep us waiting.”

The line goes dead.

Emily stares at my phone. “I already dislike them.”

Spencer raises a brow. “Same.”

“They sound like they swallowed pregnant birds,” Emily says flatly.

I burst out laughing despite myself.

Spencer grins. “That’s… vivid.”

I notice he doesn’t ask questions. Instead, he lifts his spoon.

“So,” he says lightly. “Who’s ready for round two of ice cream?”

I am.

And for that, I’m grateful.