ANATOMY OF DESIRE

AFTERMATH

The morning after the party, it felt like I had been dragged through gravel. My head wasn’t pounding the way people said hangovers were, but my chest was. Every breath carried last night with it—the music, the red cups, Jess’s laugh echoing somewhere in the haze. And him.

Adrian Cole.

Even just thinking the name made my stomach lurch, like I’d swallowed something sharp.

I sat on the edge of my dorm bed, hair tied up messily, staring at my phone. No new notifications. Not that I was expecting any. Not that I cared. Except I did. I cared enough that I hadn’t slept properly, tossing under the thin blanket, replaying the moment when his mouth brushed mine like it was some terrible secret.

It hadn’t even been a real kiss. Not the way movies made them look, soft and sweet under string lights. This one had been rough, unplanned, like he just wanted to prove a point. Trouble. That’s what he had called himself.

And I had let it happen.

“Mara.”

The knock came sharply against the door. Jess’s voice followed before I could answer. “Open up. Now.”

I dragged myself across the room and cracked it open. Jess stormed in like she owned the place, curling wild, yesterday’s eyeliner smudged under her eyes.

“What the hell was that last night?” she demanded, hands on her hips.

I swallowed. “Good morning to you too.”

“Don’t ‘good morning’ me. You disappeared. Then I hear whispers in the kitchen that you and Adrian Cole—” She lowered her voice dramatically. “—were together.”

My stomach twisted. Of course people saw. Of course, it spread. College was just high school with more alcohol and bigger lies.

“It wasn’t like that,” I said quickly. “He—”

“He what? Kissed you? Flirted with you? Mara, that guy is toxic. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t make girlfriends, he doesn’t make feelings, he just—” Jess waved her hands in frustration. “He burns through girls like cheap lighters.”

I hated how the words stung, mostly because I knew she was right. But still, the way he had looked at me didn’t feel cheap. It felt like standing too close to a fire—dangerous, but impossible to step away from.

“I’m not interested in him,” I lied.

Jess raised a brow. “Then why do you look like you haven’t slept?”

I turned away, busying myself with my desk, shuffling papers that didn’t need shuffling.

“Jess,” I said, softer. “Can we not do this right now?”

She sighed. For all her dramatics, Jess knew when to push and when to let things go. She gave me one more look, the kind that said I’m watching you, and dropped onto my bed.

“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

⸻

Campus felt louder than usual that day. Maybe it was just in my head, but every laugh and whisper carried weight. I kept catching glimpses of people staring at me, then turning away quickly, as if the surrounding air had shifted overnight.

In the lecture, I sat in my usual spot near the back. My notebook was open, pen ready, but the words on the board blurred. I was too aware of the door opening. Too aware of the footsteps echoing down the stairs.

And then he was there.

Adrian slid into a seat two rows down, effortlessly casual. His black hoodie hung loose, hood half-up, shadows hiding most of his face. But he didn’t need to look at me directly. I felt it anyway. That pull.

I told myself to focus on the professor, to copy the notes word for word. I made it three sentences before my eyes flicked back to him.

He leaned back in his chair, long legs stretched out, tapping his pen against the desk like he had all the time in the world. When his gaze finally cut towards me, it was lazy, deliberate. He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to.

Heat crawled up my neck. I snapped my attention back to the notebook, scribbling nonsense just to look busy.

Halfway through the lecture, my phone buzzed. I shouldn’t have checked it, not in the middle of class, but I did.

Unknown Number: You look good when you’re pretending not to look at me.

My chest caved in.

I glanced up. Adrian was already watching. He had his phone in his hand, thumb lazily scrolling. A smirk ghosted across his mouth.

I quickly typed back: How did you get my number?

His reply came almost instantly: You left your phone on the counter last night. Rookie mistake.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind racing.

Delete it, I wrote.

He didn’t. I knew he wouldn’t.

Instead, his next message flashed on the screen: Meet me after class.

I should’ve said no. I should’ve ignored him. But my heart betrayed me, thumping harder with each word.

When the lecture ended, I took my time packing up, hoping he’d leave, hoping it would be easy. But when I finally walked out, there he was—leaning against the wall, waiting.

“You didn’t say yes,” I said, clutching my bag tighter.

“You didn’t say no,” he shot back.

The hallway emptied around us. My pulse thundered in my ears.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, voice low.

Adrian’s eyes flickered, unreadable. “Nothing you don’t want to give.”

It should’ve sounded smooth, but there was something else buried in it—something I couldn’t name.

Before I could respond, Jess’s voice called my name from down the hall. I jerked back like I’d been caught doing something criminal.

Adrian smirked, pushing off the wall. “See you around, English major.”

And just like that, he was gone, melting into the crowd.

⸻

That night, I sat on my bed again, my phone glowing in the dark. My thumb hovered over his number. I told myself I wouldn’t text him first. I told myself I had control.

The screen lit up.

Adrian: Still awake?

My breath caught.

Yes, I typed before I could stop myself.

Adrian: Thought so. You don’t strike me as someone who sleeps easy.

I bit my lip. You don’t know me.

Adrian: Not yet.

I stared at those two words until they blurred. Not yet. Like a promise. Like a threat.

I should’ve turned the phone off. Instead, I set it on my pillow, eyes heavy but mind wide awake, replaying his voice, his look, his kiss that wasn’t a kiss.

Adrian Cole was trouble. And I was already in too deep.