Fault Lines
887 Words
Morning arrived wrapped in mist.
From the windows of Blackridge, the grounds looked as though someone had draped a thin silver veil over the lawns and gardens. Students crossed the courtyards in dark uniforms, their silhouettes fading in and out of the fog as the chapel bell marked the beginning of another day.
By breakfast, the rumours had already begun.
Not about the Ashcombes.
Not about Evelyn.
About the negotiation project.
It had become something of a tradition at Blackridge for students to compare pairings after Professor Langley’s assignments. Predictions were made over cups of tea, wagers exchanged beneath lowered voices, and by the end of the week someone inevitably claimed to know which partnership would earn the highest mark.
This year, however, only one pair seemed to interest anyone.
Evelyn Carter.
Cassien Ashcombe.
Benjamin dropped into the seat opposite Evelyn with an expression that suggested he had spent the past twenty minutes collecting gossip instead of eating breakfast.
“You’ve become famous.”
“I was hoping for something less exhausting.”
“I’m serious.”
He lowered his voice dramatically.
“There are fourth-years taking bets.”
Alexander looked up from the newspaper folded neatly beside his plate.
“I thought gambling on academic assignments was prohibited.”
“It is.”
Benjamin buttered a piece of toast without the slightest hint of concern.
“They’re calling it a prediction market.”
Alexander sighed.
“Naturally.”
Evelyn reached for her tea, determined not to let any of it matter.
“They’ll find something else to talk about next week.”
Benjamin shook his head.
“Not if you two kill each other first.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re incredibly optimistic.”
…
Their first lecture passed without incident.
The second did not.
Professor Langley had reserved the final twenty minutes for each partnership to present the progress they had made so far. Nothing formal — just a brief outline of their strategy.
Most groups stumbled through hesitant summaries.
A few admitted they had barely started.
When Evelyn and Cassien’s turn came, the room noticeably quieted.
Professor Langley folded his hands.
“Miss Carter. Mr Ashcombe.”
Cassien stood first.
Evelyn joined him a second later.
No rehearsal had been necessary.
To her mild irritation, they had reached similar conclusions independently.
Cassien outlined the corporate position with measured precision, never rushing, never raising his voice. When he finished, Evelyn stepped seamlessly into the counterargument, dismantling several of his strongest points before reconstructing them from the laboratory’s perspective.
Neither interrupted the other.
Neither attempted to dominate the discussion.
By the time they finished, even Benjamin looked mildly offended by how well it had gone.
Professor Langley smiled.
“Excellent.”
He glanced around the classroom.
“Notice something?” No one answered. “The strongest arguments rarely come from agreement.” His gaze lingered briefly on Evelyn and Cassien.
“They come from people capable of understanding both sides.”
A murmur spread across the room.
Miles shifted uncomfortably. Oliver looked distinctly unimpressed. Cassien simply sat back down. Evelyn did the same. Neither acknowledged the other. But for the first time, working together had felt.. effortless.
…
The illusion lasted until lunch.
Students poured into the Great Hall, conversations filling every corner beneath the vaulted ceiling. Evelyn had barely taken her seat when Oliver approached the Golden Trio’s table.
He stopped beside Benjamin.
“Move.”
Benjamin looked up slowly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re in our place.”
Benjamin glanced deliberately around the hall.
“I wasn’t aware the tables came with deeds.”
Oliver’s expression hardened.
“They don’t.”
“Wonderful.”
Benjamin smiled pleasantly.
“Then we’re staying.”
Several nearby conversations fell silent.
Evelyn recognised the look on Oliver’s face.
He hadn’t expected anyone to answer back.
Before either of them could speak again, another voice cut cleanly through the tension.
“Oliver.”
It wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
Cassien stood a few steps away, tray still in one hand.
Oliver turned immediately.
“They’re causing problems.”
“No.”
Cassien’s reply was immediate.
“They’re eating lunch.”
Oliver frowned.
“But — ”
“I don’t recall assigning you responsibility for the seating arrangements.”
A few students nearby exchanged curious glances.
Oliver’s ears flushed faintly.
“..Of course not.”
Without another word, Cassien walked past the table and continued toward the opposite side of the hall where Damian and Celeste were already waiting.
The entire exchange had lasted less than thirty seconds.
Benjamin blinked twice.
“..Did Ashcombe just tell one of his own friends to leave us alone?”
Alexander watched Cassien disappear into the crowd before answering quietly.
“I believe he did.”
Evelyn lowered her eyes to her untouched lunch.
She wasn’t sure what surprised her more.
That Oliver had obeyed immediately..
Or that Cassien hadn’t even looked at her while defending a principle he apparently considered obvious.
She picked up her fork.
“Eat,” she said, more to Benjamin than anyone else.
“You’ll miss afternoon lectures if you spend all of lunch trying to understand him.”
Benjamin let out a defeated sigh.
“I already have a headache.”
For reasons she couldn’t quite explain..
Evelyn smiled into her tea.
- Writer
