The lines between us

CHAPTER 12_ NO SAFE SPACE

I stormed into the dorm, bag clutched to my chest like a shield. I had made a choice—filed for a dorm change, trying to escape Isa, to get away from everything she touched, from everything she controlled.

But as soon as I stepped inside, she was there. Perched on my bed, dark hair falling over her shoulders, that calm, predatory smile fixed on her lips. Calm. Sharp. Dangerous.

“You’re moving?” she asked, voice deceptively soft.

“Yes,” I snapped, slamming my bag down. “I’m done. I can’t stay here. I can’t be near you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t make sense… Why?”

“Because I need space,” I said, voice tight.

“From me?” she asked, genuinely puzzled. “Why?”

I folded my arms, my chest tight. “I… I just need to breathe. I need to get away from this.”

She froze. Not her usual controlled stillness—but real hesitation, a flicker of confusion passing over her face. Then her smile returned, slower this time, calculating.

“You talked to Aaron,” she said, soft, sharp.

I flinched. “I… I asked him questions. I needed answers.”

Her eyes narrowed, and suddenly her voice took on a tone of wounded incredulity. “You betrayed me. I told you not to talk to him! I told you to trust me, and you went behind my back!”

I stiffened. “I… I had to know the truth. I… I needed to understand.”

Her expression shifted, trying to mask the confusion. “Of course you did,” she said, voice low and venomous. “And now you’ve gone and… let him shape your thoughts. Let him twist the story. You think he’s innocent, don’t you? That he didn’t manipulate, that he didn’t use you—just like he used me?”

I shook my head. “No… it’s not like that. I just… I wanted to know what happened.”

Isa’s eyes darkened further. “Lee… he’s always been the manipulator. Every word, every smile, every moment he makes people feel… special. Then he blames everyone else when it’s over. Did he tell you that part?”

“I… he told me enough,” I said, voice breaking slightly.

Her smile thinned, and the first real c***k appeared in her mask. “Interesting,” she murmured. “That’s not the face of someone who only heard Aaron’s version.”

I felt my chest tighten, a pit of dread opening inside me.

She stepped closer, voice dropping, calm but dangerous. “What else do you know, Lee?”

I swallowed. The question was soft. Deadly.

Because now she realized.

I wasn’t just upset with Aaron. I wasn’t just angry at what he had done. I was reacting to her.

Isa’s eyes darkened, sharp and furious, the confusion giving way to rage. “So… you went behind my back. Talked to him. You… you don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone anymore!” I snapped. “Not you. Not him. Not this!”

Her lips curved, cruelly precise. “And yet… you’re still here. Listening. Watching. Wondering who to trust, what’s real, what’s hidden. That’s exactly what I love about you.”

I could feel my hands shaking. My chest tightened with anger, fear, and disgust.

At that moment, the door slammed open. Naomi appeared, frantic, voice sharp. “Lee! Isa! Stop! What are you even doing?!”

Isa didn’t flinch. Calm, calculating. “Naomi,” she said, voice soft but deadly, “you don’t understand. Lee is mine. And Aaron…” Her eyes flicked in the empty doorway. “…he’s not what she thinks. He’s hiding everything. Lies. Secrets. And now Lee… she knows some of it. Perfectly confused.”

I sank into the chair, shaking, tears streaming freely. My chest ached with anger, fear, and confusion. Isa’s words, Aaron’s secrets, the manipulations—they twisted inside me like a storm I couldn’t escape.

Naomi reached for me, voice pleading. “Lee, listen to me! Don’t… don’t believe her! She’s—”

“Don’t lie to her, Naomi,” Isa snapped, eyes glinting. “I told her the truth. You want to think Aaron is innocent? Fine. But don’t pretend you know everything. I’ve been honest. And she’s disgusted, and I love that. That’s exactly how it should feel.”

I wanted nothing. Nothing at all. And yet, I was trapped. Between Isa, Aaron, the lies, the truths… and my own heart, which refused to stop racing.

And Isa… she was smiling.