The Bad Boy I Couldn't Escape

I was never the kind of girl who wanted to stand out. Not in junior high. Not in high school. And certainly not now. Making friends? That was never part of the plan. Being noticed only made it harder to leave—and I always knew I’d leave. The goal was simple: survive, finish, disappear. Some people called me cold. A snob, even. But they didn’t know the truth. After my parents died and I was shipped off to live with an uncle who barely acknowledged I existed, I realized quickly—it was easier not to be seen. Not to be heard. Not to feel. Still, against all odds, I made it out. A full scholarship to Kinsbridge University, the most expensive school in Willowridge. I guess life still had a few cards left for me. “Hi, I’m Selene Moretti,” I said to my reflection, forcing a smile. I was practicing. Practicing how to talk. How to present myself to my new coursemates. My first roommate. Was that normal? Probably not. But I hadn’t had a real conversation in years—not since my parents passed. It’s easier to pretend to be invisible than to explain why you’re broken. I sighed and ran my fingers through my auburn hair—newly cut to my shoulders and curled, a fresh start. It was the first day of college. And instead of going to class, I was hiding. I’d moved into the tiny dorm room over the weekend, bringing just the essentials. My side was small: a single bed with a royal purple blanket, fluffy white pillows from my old bedroom in Texas, and a small desk already stacked with books for the semester. But today—Monday—I had literature first thing in the morning. And I stayed in bed. Why? I didn’t know. Maybe I was scared. Maybe the weight of everything was finally catching up to me. I’d never felt like this before—not on the first day of junior high, or my first job, or even when I moved in with my uncle. But here I was—lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing I didn’t feel so empty. Then the door creaked open. A petite girl stepped in, her blonde hair tied back, wearing a body-hugging dress and heels that clicked against the floor like confidence. She looked like a model. Effortless. Stunning. I instinctively touched my own hair and brushed a hand down my cheek. Compared to her, I felt… plain. Invisible again. “Hey, no class?” she asked, her voice lilting like a song. Sweet, but sharp enough to catch your attention. I sat up slowly, fidgeting with my hands. “I… I didn’t feel like going,” I whispered, unsure of how to tell a complete stranger I was having cold feet. That I felt like the air was too heavy to breathe. A couple of guys came in behind her, carrying boxes—hers, I assumed. They dropped them off and left without a word. The girl nodded, scanning the room with curious eyes. I watched her as she took it all in. “I’m Selene,” I started, awkwardly. She turned to me with a smile that nearly blinded me. “I know. Emma.” She reached out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Okay. That wasn’t so bad. “What’s your major?” she asked, already beginning to unpack her things. “Umm… International Relations,” I said, moving to help. She grinned. “Same here.” ---