Chapter Two — Four O’Clock
1743 Words
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At exactly 3:52 p.m., Amara Bennett closed her laptop.
She looked at the clock on the wall.
Eight minutes.
She had arrived at the university library earlier than necessary because she refused to give Ethan Cole the satisfaction of thinking she was the kind of person who arrived late.
Not that he had ever said she was late.
Still, she remembered the way he had written 4:00 p.m. on that little piece of paper.
As if he expected her to forget.
Amara glanced at the notebook beside her.
She had spent the previous hour preparing for their project.
Three pages of research.
Two possible topics.
A list of questions.
And, although she would never admit it to Nia, she had changed her outfit twice before leaving home.
Not because of Ethan.
Absolutely not.
She simply wanted to look presentable.
That was all.
The library was unusually quiet that afternoon. A few students sat scattered around the large room, their heads bent over textbooks. Sunlight came through the tall windows, creating golden rectangles across the wooden floor.
Amara looked toward the entrance.
3:55.
She sighed.
Why was she checking the time every thirty seconds?
"Ridiculous," she whispered.
"Talking to yourself?"
She nearly jumped.
She turned.
Ethan stood behind her.
He had a black backpack over one shoulder and a paper cup in his hand.
Amara placed a hand over her chest.
"You scared me."
"Sorry."
"You walk too quietly."
"I didn't know that was a problem."
"It is when someone appears behind you."
He pulled out the chair opposite her.
"I'll make more noise next time."
She smiled despite herself.
"Please do."
He sat down.
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
Then he placed the second paper cup on the table.
"I brought this for you."
Amara looked at it.
"What is it?"
"Hot chocolate."
She stared at him.
"Why?"
"You looked cold yesterday."
She glanced toward the windows.
It wasn't cold.
Not even slightly.
"You remembered that?"
Ethan shrugged.
"I notice things."
There it was again.
That sentence.
Amara looked away before he could see the smile forming on her face.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
She picked up the cup.
It was warm against her palms.
"How did you know I like hot chocolate?"
"I didn't."
She looked at him.
"So you guessed?"
"Yes."
"What if I hated it?"
"Then I would've apologized."
"And bought me something else?"
"Probably."
Amara smiled.
"You're strange."
"I've heard that before."
They both laughed softly.
The awkwardness that had existed between them yesterday seemed slightly less today.
Amara opened her notebook.
"Okay. Let's actually work."
Ethan opened his laptop.
"Agreed."
They spent the next several minutes discussing possible topics.
Amara suggested consumer behavior.
Ethan suggested the effect of social media advertising on young consumers.
They argued over which would be easier.
"You realize that's too broad," Amara said.
"We can narrow it."
"How?"
"Social media influence on purchasing decisions among university students."
Amara considered it.
"That's actually good."
"I know."
She looked at him.
"Don't become arrogant now."
"I wasn't."
"You sounded like you were."
He smiled.
"I'll try harder."
Amara shook her head.
"You're impossible."
"And yet you agreed to work with me."
"Professor Williams forced us."
"That's true."
They continued working.
Ethan was surprisingly easy to work with.
He didn't try to control everything.
Whenever Amara suggested something, he listened.
When they disagreed, he explained his reasoning instead of dismissing hers.
It was different from what she had expected.
She had imagined someone like him would be difficult.
Someone who knew he was intelligent and wealthy and therefore believed everyone else was beneath him.
But Ethan didn't behave that way.
In fact, the more time she spent with him, the more difficult he became to understand.
After nearly an hour, Amara leaned back.
"You're really serious about your grades."
Ethan looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because you've already done half the research."
"I like being prepared."
"That's all?"
"Mostly."
She studied him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You keep saying that."
"Because you keep asking."
He laughed.
Amara smiled.
Then she noticed the time.
5:06 p.m.
"We've been here for an hour."
"An hour and six minutes."
"You really do notice everything."
He looked amused.
"You've mentioned that already."
"I know."
They packed their things.
As they left the library, Amara noticed that the sky outside had begun turning orange.
The university looked different in the late afternoon.
Less crowded.
Quieter.
Almost peaceful.
They walked side by side toward the main gate.
"So," Ethan said, "what do you usually do after class?"
"Go home."
"Every day?"
"Pretty much."
"Never hang out with friends?"
"I do sometimes."
"What about parties?"
Amara laughed.
"What about them?"
"Do you go?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like them."
"Have you ever been?"
"Once."
"And?"
"I left after thirty minutes."
He laughed.
"Why?"
"Too loud."
"Fair."
She looked at him.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Do you go to parties?"
"Sometimes."
"Do you enjoy them?"
"Not really."
Amara looked surprised.
"You don't?"
"No."
"Then why go?"
"Because people invite me."
She laughed.
"That's your reason?"
"Sometimes saying no becomes exhausting."
That made her laugh harder.
"You have a difficult life."
"You have no idea."
The smile disappeared from his face for a brief moment.
Something about his tone made Amara look at him.
"What does that mean?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing."
She recognized the answer immediately.
The same answer she had used several times.
She didn't push.
"Okay."
They continued walking.
A few students passed them.
Some greeted Ethan.
He acknowledged them politely but didn't stop.
Amara noticed that.
Everyone seemed to know him.
Yet he didn't seem particularly interested in knowing everyone.
At the main gate, they stopped.
Amara adjusted her bag.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Ethan nodded.
"Tomorrow."
She turned.
"Amara."
She looked back.
"Yes?"
"Your notebook."
She looked down.
She had left it in her hand.
She laughed.
"I have it this time."
He smiled.
"Good."
She walked away.
After a few seconds, she heard him call again.
"Amara."
She turned around.
"What?"
"Goodnight."
She smiled.
"Goodnight, Ethan."
It was such a small exchange.
Two words.
Nothing important.
But Amara thought about them the entire bus ride home.
---
The next morning, Nia noticed immediately.
"You like him."
Amara nearly choked on her water.
"What?"
Nia sat across from her at the cafeteria table.
"Ethan."
"I don't like Ethan."
"You smiled when you said his name."
"I smile when I'm happy."
"Exactly."
Amara rolled her eyes.
"You're imagining things."
Nia leaned forward.
"How was the library?"
"Fine."
"Just fine?"
"Yes."
"Did he say anything?"
"We discussed the project."
"Anything else?"
Amara hesitated.
"He brought me hot chocolate."
Nia's eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
"He brought me a drink."
"Why?"
"He said I looked cold."
Nia stared at her.
"You weren't cold."
"I know."
"Amara."
"What?"
"That's flirting."
Amara shook her head.
"No, it isn't."
"He remembered something about you."
"That's called being observant."
"He bought you a drink."
"He guessed."
"He smiled at you."
"People smile."
"He walked you to the gate."
"It was dark."
Nia folded her arms.
"And?"
"And what?"
"You're defending him."
"I'm explaining."
Nia smiled.
"You're in trouble."
Amara laughed.
"Stop."
"Fine."
Nia picked up her sandwich.
"But I'm watching."
"There's nothing to watch."
"Sure."
Amara tried to change the subject.
"How's your project?"
"Terrible."
"Why?"
"My partner is useless."
Amara laughed.
"You chose him?"
"No. Professor Williams did."
"Who is it?"
"Liam."
"Oh."
"Exactly."
They continued talking until the bell rang.
---
Over the next two weeks, Amara and Ethan spent more time together.
At first, it was only because of their project.
Then it became something else.
They met in the library.
Sometimes in the cafeteria.
Once in the university garden.
They worked together, argued over research, shared snacks, and occasionally talked about things completely unrelated to their assignments.
Amara discovered that Ethan liked old movies.
He discovered that she hated horror films.
She discovered that he couldn't cook.
He discovered that she could spend three hours in a bookstore without realizing how much time had passed.
Little things.
Nothing significant.
At least, that's what Amara told herself.
One afternoon, they were sitting beneath the oak tree where she had first met Nia.
Ethan was reading through their project draft.
"This paragraph needs work."
Amara looked over.
"What's wrong with it?"
"It's too formal."
"It's an academic paper."
"That doesn't mean it has to sound like a robot wrote it."
She laughed.
"You sound like my professor."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You shouldn't."
He looked at her.
"You really enjoy arguing with me."
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
She shrugged.
"It's fun."
He smiled.
"Good."
She stared at him for a second.
There was something different about him lately.
He was still quiet.
Still reserved.
But around her, he seemed more relaxed.
He joked.
He smiled.
He talked.
And Amara realized something that made her uncomfortable.
She liked being the person who could make him do that.
She looked away.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You've been saying that a lot."
"Maybe because nothing is wrong."
He studied her for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"Okay."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
For once, Amara didn't feel the need to fill it.
She looked toward the sky.
Clouds were gathering.
"It might rain."
Ethan looked up.
"It will."
"How do you know?"
"Look at the clouds."
She laughed.
"You're very observant."
"So I've been told."
A drop of rain landed on her notebook.
Then another.
"Oh."
Within seconds, the rain began falling harder.
Students rushed across the courtyard.
Amara grabbed her bag.
"Great."
Ethan stood.
"Come on."
They ran toward the nearest covered walkway.
Amara laughed as they reached it.
Her hair was slightly wet.
Ethan looked at her.
"What?"
"You have rain on your face."
She wiped her cheek.
"Here?"
"No."
She tried again.
"Here?"
He laughed.
"No."
"Then where?"
He stepped slightly closer.
"Here."
He gently pointed toward her forehead.
Amara froze.
For one second, neither of them moved.
Then she wiped the spot herself.
"Got it."
"Yeah."
The moment passed.
But neither of them spoke for several seconds.
Finally, Ethan looked toward the rain.
"You should probably go home before it gets worse."
"Probably."
She smiled.
"Thanks for today."
"Anytime."
She took a step away.
Then stopped.
"Ethan?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad we're partners."
He looked at her.
"So am I."
And somehow, that simple answer stayed with her long after the rain stopped.
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