Crossed lines.
1366 Words
I decided to avoid George for the rest of the week and, so far, it was working. It was already Thursday, and since we only had Psychology once a week, I hadn’t seen him since Monday.
Being two years ahead of me also meant our schedules were very different.
Guilia and I had just finished our last class at noon and were heading to the cafeteria.
The moment we walked in, I felt it. That same magnetic pull I hadn’t felt since Monday. My eyes turned on their own, and there he was, sitting at the far corner of the room. George.
His eyes were already on me, and my breath caught in my throat. He wasn’t alone. Sitting beside him was Andira, the school’s ‘queen’. She ran her hand through his hair, laughing softly.
I tore my gaze away, a wave of jealousy hitting me hard. Turning quickly, I focused on Guilia, who was at the counter buying drinks. She hadn’t seen him yet.
As we sat, Roman and a few of Guilia’s friends joined us. Roman slid into the seat beside me, draping his arm over my shoulder and my body stiffened as he drew me closer to his chest.
My eyes snapped to George’s again. His stare was sharp and unblinking, as if daring me to keep sitting there, to keep letting him touch me.
“Where have you been hiding, Rayna? I barely see you around campus!” Roman said, pretending to sound hurt.
“I don’t walk around much,” I replied with a small smile, taking a sip of my drink.
He studied me for a moment, then leaned in close, his breath brushing against my ear. “You look really beautiful today, Rayna.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I looked away quickly, checking if anyone had noticed. Guilia and her friends were too busy laughing at something on their phone.
A sudden screech of metal against the floor cut through the noise, making everyone turn.
George.
He stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled. His jaw was tight, his expression stormy as he stalked out of the cafeteria. The girl hurried after him.
“Whoa, I didn’t even know he was here,” Guilia said, surprised, then shrugged and went back to her phone.
Her lack of concern told me this kind of behavior was normal for him and that unsettled me.
After that, I couldn’t focus on anything. My mind was everywhere until Guilia dropped me off at the hostel later that afternoon, saying her dad wanted her home.
Hours passed, and I lay in bed scrolling on my phone when a text popped up.
Unknown Number: Where are you?
I frowned. Who’s this? I typed back.
The reply didn’t come in words. The number called instead.
I hesitated, then picked up.
“It’s George,” came his deep, calm voice.
My heart skipped and I sat up straight.
“I have to come over for the project,” he said. “We didn’t do much the last time.”
“Oh… yes, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual though my pulse was racing. I gave him the address, hung up, and immediately ran to the bathroom for a shower. My nerves buzzed with something I couldn’t name, anticipation maybe, or dread. I did not understand how I was feeling, but even after the harsh words he said to me, I wasn’t able to hate him.
By the time he arrived, my palms were sweaty. He was in a white shirt and black pants. The first time I’d seen him in anything other than black. The color made his eyes look even bluer.
“Sorry this is sudden,” he said as I let him in. “I’ve got a meeting this weekend.”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly. “You can sit here.” I pointed to the chair across from the bed.
He dragged it closer, close enough that our knees nearly touched.
“We could start with some research,” he said, and I nodded.
For the next hour, we worked quietly. I couldn’t help noticing how smart he was, thoughtful, analytical, not at all the type I’d assumed he was. And for once, he wasn’t being rude. It was… strange.
But still, focusing was hard. Every time he leaned over to point something out on my laptop, his knee brushed mine, and I felt a rush of heat shoot through me.
“What do you think about this?” he asked suddenly.
“What?” I blinked, lost in thought.
He leaned closer, pointing to the screen. “This part.”
I looked at the laptop, then at him. He was too close, too warm. His scent filled the small space between us, and my mind went blank.
His eyes darkened and he shut them. Before I could react, his hand came up to the back of my head, and his lips crashed against mine.
It was like a spark caught fire.
He kissed me hard, desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. I gasped, and something inside me melted. My hands moved on their own, one clutching his shoulder, the other tugging lightly at his hair.
He groaned lowly, pulling me closer and deepened the kiss.
“I can’t get you out of my head,” he murmured against my lips, his voice rough.
My heart was pounding. The room spun, and for a moment, I didn’t want to stop. I’d never felt anything like this before.
“You’re not my type.” The words came crashing back suddenly.
My eyes flew open, and I pushed him back slightly. His breathing was ragged, his hair tousled, his blue eyes searching mine, confused.
“Rayna…” he whispered, reaching for me again. But I move back, my chest heaving.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said softly, though my voice trembled.
Because the worst part wasn’t that he kissed me.
It was that I kissed him back.
I just proved to him again that yes, indeed I wanted him. Proved that maybe I was easy to get.
“No…” I whispered again, shifting back and trying to calm my breathing.
Anger flashed in his eyes before he leaned back against the chair, his jaw tightening.
“You have a girlfriend,” I said, referring to the girl I saw him with earlier and my voice trembling slightly. “Why are you kissing me?”
For a moment, confusion clouded his face. Then, a small smirk curved his lips.
“Oh, I don’t do girlfriends,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I froze. That wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for. I wanted him to say she wasn’t his girlfriend but this was far worse.
So what was I then? Just another girl for him to toy with?
Embarrassment washed over me, burning through my skin. I stood abruptly, fighting the lump rising in my throat.
“I think you should go now, George.” My tone was calm, steadier than I felt. Usually, when my heart broke, I cried. But this time my eyes stayed dry.
He stared at me for a while before he rose slowly, sliding his hands into his pockets. His expression turned guarded again, his walls back up.
God, he looked so beautiful…so beautiful it hurt to even look at him.
He nodded twice and turned to leave.
“And whatever happened now,” I said softly as he tried to turn the doorknob, “should never repeat itself. This… was a mistake.”
The second the words left my mouth, regret stabbed through me. It wasn’t the truth. Not even close.
George froze, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly. His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around.
I wanted to take it back, to tell him I didn’t mean it but the words refused to come out.
We stood there in silence for several seconds before he turned the knob and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
The sound echoed in the small room, leaving me hollow.
- Writer
