EX OR NEXT

*Chapter 4:First Sightings.*

*WEEK 2 OF 90*

I walked onto campus and the world tilted.

Not because I fell.

Because people looked.

The first day of my new hair, new clothes, new no-contact rule.

Cream sweater. Jeans that fit. Boots that clicked.

No hoodie. No hiding.

“Is that Chloe?”

“Did she cut her hair?”

“Wasn’t she with Ethan?”

Tasha walked next to me, sunglasses on at 9am.

“You’re famous now,” she said. “Famous for not being miserable.”

“I don’t feel famous. I feel exposed.”

“Same thing,” she said, bumping my shoulder. “Get used to it.”

In Psych 101, Professor Daniels paused mid-roll call.

“Ms. Carter. New haircut?”

“New everything,” I said. My voice didn’t shake.

Half the class turned around.

I didn’t look down.

---

*12:14 PM*

Ethan was spiraling.

He told himself he wasn’t.

But he’d asked three different people: “Have you talked to her?”

Checked her Spotify. She hadn’t played his playlist in 9 days.

Checked her location. Off.

Checked his own phone. 4 texts sent from 2 numbers. All seen. None replied.

He saw her from across the quad.

Walking with Tasha.

Laughing.

It hit him like a brick.

That was his laugh she was doing. The loud one. The one he used to say was “too much.”

He started toward her.

Stopped.

What would he even say? _Sorry I dumped you by text?_

He pulled out his phone. New number. Third one.

_I miss you_

Hit send.

_Seen._

No reply.

He threw the phone on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

“f**k,” he whispered.

---

*3:30 PM: LIBRARY*

I was on my third coffee. Black.

Tasha said caffeine was part of the contract.

I sat down at my usual table.

There was already a stack of books there. Physics. Stats.

And a guy.

Hoodie. Pen in his mouth. Head down.

Lucas.

He was in my lecture. Two rows back. Always.

He didn’t look up when I sat.

Just slid his books over to make room.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

He nodded.

Ten minutes later my pen rolled off the table.

Before I could bend, his hand was there. Picked it up. Handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I said again.

“Yeah.”

That was it.

He went back to notes.

Tasha texted me from across the room:

_that guy is stalking you. in a hot way._

I kicked her under the table.

He wasn’t stalking.

He was just... there.

---

*5:02 PM: COFFEE SHOP*

I dropped my notebook.

Papers everywhere. Notes, contract reminders, a doodle of a trash can with a hoodie in it.

“s**t—”

A hand was already picking them up.

Lucas.

Of course.

He handed them back. Our fingers brushed. His were cold.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. Then he paused. “Black coffee, right?”

I blinked. “How’d you know?”

He shrugged. One shoulder. “Lucky guess.”

And walked away. Took his black coffee to a corner table.

Tasha appeared like magic.

“Ooooh. We got a watcher.”

“He’s not—”

“He is,” she said, sipping her oat milk latte. “Question is: is he watching because he likes you, or because he doesn’t want anyone else to?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I didn’t know.

---

*10:02 PM*

My phone buzzed on Tasha’s kitchen counter.

Unknown number.

_Can we talk? Please. It’s important. - E_

My stomach dropped.

Ethan.

I didn’t pick it up.

I set the phone face down.

It buzzed again.

Different number.

_You good?_

No name.

Just that.

10:02pm.

The exact time Lucas had said “lucky guess” about my coffee.

The exact time I’d been sitting on the sidewalk two weeks ago.

Coincidence.

Had to be.

I looked out Tasha’s window.

Across the street, a car. Engine off. No headlights.

Just sitting there.

My heart did something stupid.

I didn’t answer either of them.

Tasha came out in pajamas.

“Who was it?”

“Ethan.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” I slid the phone into my pocket. “Rule three.”

She smiled. Proud.

“Contract still holding up?”

I looked at the paper on the fridge. `DAY 14 OF 90`

“Yeah,” I said. “It is.”

Outside, the car pulled away.

---

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

Lucas sat in his car. Engine off.

He’d seen Ethan’s text come through.

He’d seen her not answer.

His phone was in his hand.

_You good?_

Sent.

He didn’t expect a reply.

He just needed to know she was okay.

He drove home slowly.

And for the first time in two weeks, he didn’t set an alarm.

Because she hadn’t looked back today.

And that meant she was looking forward.