I Thought I Needed Saving..

Chapter 17: The reality

​"Uh, hi," I said, stumbling. I realized I hadn't prepared a script for a woman who didn't look like she was about to fire me. "I’m Cole. I’m a... friend of Maya’s from school. I came to return her book"

​I held out the book.

​Her face transformed into a radiant smile. "Oh! Please, come in! I’m Maya’s mother."

​"I... I wouldn't want to intrude," I said, the gentleman training from my mother kicking in automatically.

​"Oh please. Maya!" she called back into the house, her voice full of a casual affection that sounded foreign to my ears. "Your friend is here!"

​A moment later, Maya appeared in the hallway. She looked different. She wasn't the clinical, sharp-tongued student from the café. She was wearing an oversized Dukes University sweatshirt and leggings, her hair piled into a messy knot on top of her head.

When she saw me, her expression didn't shift into anger-- it shifted into a guarded curiosity.

​"Cole?" she asked, stepping up to the door.

​I watched the way her mother reached out and squeezed Maya’s shoulder as she passed-- a small, unconscious gesture of closeness. Maya didn't pull away; she leaned into it for a split second, her hand moving to her mother's back, before stepping toward me.

It was a silent language of safety that I didn't recognize.

​"I brought this," I said, handing her the book.

​"I've been looking everywhere for that," she admitted, her fingers brushing mine as she took it. "I thought I’d lost a semester's worth of notes."

​"You must come in for a moment, Cole," her mother insisted. "I just took some biscuits out of the oven."

​"Mom, he’s actually in a rush," Maya said, her voice firm. She looked at me, an unspoken plea in her eyes. "He’s on his way to meet his friends for practice. Right, Cole?"

​"Yeah," I said, finding my mask again. "Lacrosse practice. Coach is a stickler for punctuality, and I’ve already used my emergency excuse for the week."

​"Such a shame," her mother said, though her smile didn't fade. "Well, let me leave you two."

​

​She retreated back into the house, leaving us alone on the porch. The air was crisp, and for a second, the silence between us wasn't a battleground.

​"Did you read it?" Maya asked, hugging the heavy book to her chest.

​I let a smirk play on my lips, "What, the Property Law cases? I considered it, but I figured I'd leave the heavy lifting to the future Chief Justice. I was mostly looking to see if you’d hidden any diary entries about your secret crushes or the fantasy life you live in."

​Maya rolled her eyes, but I saw a ghost of a smile. "I don't have time for fantasies, Cole. I'm too busy dealing with reality. But thanks," she paused. "For the ride, and for the book."

I let a moment pass.

We just stared at each other but it felt... good --and scary at the same time.

​"Don't get used to it," I said, stepping back toward the truck. "I have a reputation to maintain. Can’t have people thinking I’m actually thoughtful."

​"Of course," she said softly. "The king can't be seen doing favors for the commoners."

​"Exactly."

​I gave her a warm smile and walked back to the truck, feeling her gaze on my back until I pulled away.

As I drove back toward campus, the image of that house stayed with me-- the smell of flour, the warmth of the hallway, and the way her mother hadn't asked Maya about alliances or milestones. The way they interacted with each other.

​I pushed the thought away, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles were white.

Unfortunately, that wasn't my world.

My world was at the gym, where the air was thick with competition and the stakes were clearly defined.

​I pulled into the campus athletic center parking lot. The smell of sweat and the sound of weights clanging filled the air, a familiar symphony that always made me feel grounded. I found Jax and Theo at the bench press, looking like the poster boys for the University’s athletic department.

​I wasn't even two minutes into the gym and they were already asking me how the ghost dad story went. They reminded me that tomorrow was the deadline for the bet.

​The reality of the bet hit me like a physical blow. In the chaos of the café and the visit to Maya’s house, I’d almost forgotten the original goal. I was supposed to be the one in control. I was supposed to be the hunter.

​But how can I not forget?

​Maya’s house hadn’t been a kingdom, and her mother hadn't been a CEO. And for a few minutes on that porch, I’d seen a version of real that made my floor-to-ceiling windows and my navy suits feel like a cheap stage play.

The scary part wasn't that I was losing the game--it was that I was starting to hate the person I had to be to win it. And tomorrow, I had to be that person one more time.

-----

The air in Lewis' dorm room was thick, a hazy gray curtain of peppermint-scented smoke from the hubbly-bolly sitting on the center table. It was a suffocating, sweet smell that usually helped me turn my brain off, but today, it felt like it was clogging my lungs. The low hum of a lo-fi beat played from a Bluetooth speaker, vibrating against the cramped, poster-plastered walls.

​Jax was slumped in a beanbag, eyes half-closed, looking like he'd been melted into the fabric. Theo leaned against the desk, his thumb mindlessly scrolling through his phone with a predatory smirk that usually meant he'd found someone's embarrassing social media post to exploit.

​"Did you see the invite for the Pharmacy faculty bash?" Lewis asked, leaning back in his swivel chair until it groaned under his weight. "Open bar until midnight, and they've hired a decent DJ for once."

​"Pharmacy girls always go the hardest," Jax muttered, blowing a slow, perfect smoke ring that drifted toward the ceiling fan. "They spend all week memorizing formulas and staring into microscopes; by Friday, they need the release. It's a literal science."

​We sat there for an hour, just boys being boys. We traded rumors about which lecturers were on the verge of a mental breakdown and which girls from the junior varsity cheer squad were newly single. It was the usual script-the safe, shallow surface-level talk that defined my social circle.

​Maya's name didn't come up. I made sure of it. I kept my expressions neutral, my comments brief. Lewis was a good guy, a solid friend in most contexts, but he talked. He was a social conduit; information flowed through him like water through a sieve. And a bet like this? This was a precision strike. It stayed in the family.

​When we finally stood up to head out, the cool afternoon air of the hallway felt like a splash of ice water against my skin. I hadn't realized how much the peppermint smoke had made me lightheaded until the door clicked shut behind us.

As soon as we were ten paces down the hall and Lewis was safely out of earshot, Jax's relaxed, stoned posture vanished.

​"The clock is officially screaming, King," Jax said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register he used when the stakes were high. "You have to bring us the proof, or hand over the keys to the truck for a whole month. And the crown? That stays on the table for whoever can actually handle a law student without getting their heart dissected."

​I felt a sharp flash of irritation, a heat rising in my neck, but I kept my face as smooth as glass.

I had forgotten about that last stupid rule. If I can't give them proof before the deadline, I have to choose one of the boys to finish the job I couldn't do-- to try their way into Maya’s pants. And I'll be damned if it came to that.

"The truck stays with me, Jax. And the crown isn't going anywhere. I'm heading to the law wing now to set the stage. The performance is tonight."

​"Then don't miss your cue," Theo added with a mocking salute.

​I checked the schedule on my phone-the one I'd charmed out of Sienna with nothing more than a few well-timed smiles. Administrative Law. Room 302. I didn't just walk to the Law building; I stalked. Every step I took felt heavier, more deliberate.

I reached the lecture hall five minutes after the session had started. Most people, even the athletes, would have slunk in through the back door, hunched over, hoping the lecturer wouldn't notice their tardiness.

Not me.

I pushed the heavy oak doors open with both hands, the loud, rhythmic creak echoing through the tiered room like a gunshot.

​A hundred heads turned in unison. It was a sea of confusion and annoyance, but I only looked for one face. And there she was. Middle row, third seat in. Maya.

​She looked up from her laptop, her brow furrowed, her eyes widening behind her blue-light glasses. I didn't look at the lecturer. I didn't acknowledge the "Quiet Please" signs.

I looked directly at her. I gave her a deliberate wink as I started down the stairs, my boots thudding against the carpeted steps.

​"Excuse me, young man," the lecturer-a man who looked like he'd been carved out of a single piece of ancient, grumpy parchment-paused, his marker hovering over the whiteboard. "I don't believe I've seen you in this section before. Or this faculty. Are you in the right hall, or are you just exceptionally lost?"

​I stopped at the end of Maya's row, leaning one hand on the desk. "I'm new, sir," I said, my voice projecting with a practiced confidence that masked the hollow thumping in my chest. "Transferred in from the morning section. Still finding my way around the 'Administrative' part of my life. I hope I haven't missed the section on judicial discretion."

​A few guys in the back who recognized me from the Lacrosse team muffled their chuckles into their sleeves. They knew I was a Business Economics major who wouldn't know a tort from a tarantula.

The lecturer squinted at me, clearly deciding that I was too well-dressed and too composed to be a mere prankster.

​"Very well. Find a seat and keep your 'discretion' to a minimum. We are discussing judicial reviews and the limits of executive power," he said, turning back to the board with a sigh.

​I slid into the empty seat directly next to Maya. The air between us immediately charged with a static electricity that made the hairs on my arms stand up.