DRAWN TO LOVE

Chapter 23-24

Oliver POV

Study groups weren’t really my thing. I never joined them. But because of her and she ended up being in the group I was assigned to. It made me feel that the study group was the first step.

The courtyard was alive with the usual bustle of students rushing between classes, clusters of friends huddled together, and laughter echoing across the quad. And yet, all of it faded into the background the moment I spotted her.

“Tami Davis”. She hadn’t noticed me yet, head tilted slightly down, her oversized sweatshirt and loose jeans shielding her as she walked beside Lola, who seemed to sense my gaze before I could even register the distance between us. Her stride was purposeful, almost mechanical, but there was a tension in the curve of her shoulders, the slight sway of her bag, that told me she was aware of me even if she pretended otherwise.

Days had passed since we were assigned to the group, and I had watched her, measured my approach, learned her patterns. She avoided me when she could, leaned on Lola’s presence when she couldn’t, and yet, in every fleeting moment, I caught glimpses of her—the girl I once tormented and, in the strangest way, had never stopped noticing.

I was happy I made the decision early to stop sitting with Brittney. It wasn’t because I disliked her charm—far from it—but because it was a reminder of the girl I actually cared about. Choosing Jason, my closest friend from the start, had been deliberate. Jason was easygoing, trustworthy, and someone who made it possible for me to feel comfortable around others without losing track of Tami’s presence. Sitting beside Brittney, laughing with her, would have sent the wrong message. And I wasn’t ready to give anyone the wrong impression about my intentions.

“Man, you’re quiet today,” Jason said, nudging me lightly as we navigated toward the cafeteria. I forced a smile, keeping my attention on Tami. She was moving along the edge of the quad now, Lola’s laughter carrying lightly across the space.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, though my mind was anything but. I was calculating, planning, and watching, all at once. I had learned patience, learned that pushing too quickly would only make her retreat further. The last thing I wanted was for her to fear me again, even if her memories were nothing more than a shadow she tried to keep locked away.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at her from the start. Even when she’s with her friend, you can’t help it.”

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the tension build in my chest. “I’m not staring. I’m… noticing. That’s all.”

“Noticing is staring,” Jason said flatly, smirking. “Face it, man. You like her.”

I stiffened, more from surprise than denial. Yes, I had liked her. And yes, I had tormented her back then because I had no idea how else to deal with the feelings I barely understood. Now, everything was different. I had control. I knew who I was. And for the first time in years, I wasn’t just thinking about my legacy or the expectations of my family—I was thinking about her. About Tami. About making her see the person I had become.

I watched as she paused near the entrance to one of the lecture halls, Lola lingering beside her. Her hand fiddled with the strap of her bag, twisting it in a nervous rhythm I remembered far too well from our childhood encounters. She wasn’t even aware I was observing her at that precise moment—or perhaps she was, the faint tension in her posture telling me she was acutely aware of my presence even if she refused to meet my gaze.

Weeks of subtle maneuvers had taught me a few things. First, Tami was cautious. Extremely so. Second, her friend Lola was loyal, attentive, and probably aware of my presence far more than I could guess. And third, patience was my greatest ally. I couldn’t rush her. I couldn’t force an interaction. I had to earn the trust I had squandered years ago.

The cafeteria doors opened ahead, spilling students into the room, and the smell of fried food and heated pizza immediately hit me. I didn’t need to sit with Brittney; Jason and I had claimed a spot near the center. From here, I could watch, unobtrusive but fully aware. Tami and Lola moved along the periphery, their conversation light but layered with subtle gestures—Lola’s hand resting briefly on Tami’s arm, her body leaning slightly forward as if protecting her friend from unseen tension.

I clenched my jaw slightly. She didn’t want this attention. I understood that. Yet, I couldn’t help the way my heart sped when our eyes met across the room for a fleeting instant. The flush on her cheeks, the quick dart of her gaze back to her tray, the way she pressed her hands together—all of it spoke volumes. She wanted to hide, to retreat, to pretend I wasn’t there. And for the first time, I didn’t blame her.

Jason leaned closer, whispering, “You’re going to have to do something sooner or later. You can’t just sit there watching.”

I shook my head, though a small smirk tugged at my lips. “Sooner or later. Not yet. I need to see her on her own terms, not because I corner her or force a smile.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue further. He understood the stakes—he had seen the boy I once was, the reckless, thoughtless version who had hurt her without realizing the depth of the pain. Now, every interaction had to be intentional, measured, and meaningful.

My eyes returned to her, noting the way she finally lowered her gaze to her tray, focusing on the food she barely touched. Her fingers trembled slightly, betraying the calm she tried to project. I made a mental note. Patience, yes. Observation, yes. And a subtle approach—I needed to find the right moment.

A few minutes later, Brittney walked past the table where Jason and I sat. She caught sight of us, her expression briefly faltering as she noted my distance. She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow but said nothing, sliding past with her usual practiced grace. I felt a small sense of victory—not for her, but for the quiet, deliberate steps I was taking to make Tami see that I was different now.

The bell rang, and the cafeteria began to clear. I watched as Tami and Lola moved toward the exit, Tami’s posture still tense but slightly more relaxed than when she had first entered. I caught Jason’s eye, gave a small nod, and followed at a distance, careful not to crowd her space.

I didn’t need to speak yet. This was about presence. About showing her, silently, that I had changed, that I was no longer the boy who had tormented her. That I could be trusted.

And maybe, just maybe, she would notice and accept me.