Hidden Between Us

Chapter 11: Shifting Roads

“Some days you wake up and the world feels sharper, closer, like everything waiting for you is just around the corner”

Sienna's Pov

The soft morning light filtered through my window, brushing across my desk and onto the scattered papers I’d left there last night. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, notifications blinking insistently. Without thinking, I grabbed it, scrolling through my inbox. Internship applications, Deadlines, a couple of polite rejections. Nothing new from New York yet. My chest tightened a little at the thought of graduating soon and still not knowing where I would land.

“Morning, Sienna.” My mom’s voice came from the stairwell. I blinked at the window for a moment before sitting up. She was standing halfway down the stairs, one hand gripping the railing, the other brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Time to get up,” she said softly, a little laugh hiding behind her words.

I swung my legs off the bed. “Morning, Mom,” I replied, voice hoarse from sleep.

She smiled, nodding once, then continued down the stairs. I could hear her footsteps fading as she returned to the kitchen, the aroma of something sweet and warm drifting up, the pancakes she had promised yesterday.

From the hallway, the faint sound of clinking cutlery reached me. Liam’s voice or rather, the lack of it told me he was already downstairs, busy with his breakfast. I wandered toward the kitchen, phone still in hand. There he was, sitting at the counter, earbuds in, a half-eaten granola bar beside his plate, and his phone buzzing insistently.

One ring, Two rings, Liam ignored it. I raised an eyebrow. “Pick it up,” I said casually.

He shrugged without looking up. “It’s some girl from school. She’s obsessed or something. I’m good.”

I shook my head, smiling faintly, and left him to it. The sounds of cutlery and the faint hum of the morning settled around me as I finished getting ready. I threw on my bag, tightened my shoes, and darted out the door, the city already alive with students and commuters heading in every direction.

By the time I reached the university, the lecture halls were filled with students already settled into their routines. The smell of polished floors mixed with faint coffee and old paper made the hall feel alive, almost breathing. I slipped quietly into the back row of the hall, balancing my notebook on my lap, pen poised. Professor Harris was mid-explanation, his voice steady and precise, laying out the final points of corporate law and organizational behavior.

I scribbled notes furiously, occasionally glancing at the slides, my mind also wandering to the emails I’d checked that morning. Graduation loomed closer every day, and I could feel the pressure building, not just for school, but for what came after.

Three hours later, the lecture finally ended. I packed my bag, stretching my arms as I rose. Sophie was waiting for me outside the lecture hall, her energy a sharp contrast to my sleepy, tense morning. Linking arms, we walked toward the campus café.

Inside, the aroma of coffee, pastries, and warm milk filled the small space. We claimed our usual corner table. Sophie leaned back, smirking slightly. “So, any news on those internships?”

I sighed, stirring my iced coffee. “I’ve been checking New York… nothing yet.”

Sophie tapped her straw against the cup. “Maybe you should try other cities too. Washington, Boston… somewhere nearby. It could be good exposure.”

I nodded slowly, considering. “Yeah… makes sense. I guess I’ve been too focused on New York.”

“You’ll get something. You always do,” she said with a reassuring smile.

We lingered in conversation, talking about classes, life, and the weight of the final semester. Eventually, we left the café, the city sun dipping lower, the sidewalks bustling with students finishing their own days.

As we walked toward the campus gate, Sophie suddenly stopped. “Uh… Sienna, look,” she murmured, nodding toward a black car parked just outside the gate.

Damian stood there, hands in his pockets, jacket falling just right on his frame. Cool, controlled, effortlessly intimidating. My heart skipped a beat, though I tried not to show it.

“i’m kinda feeling generous today” Sophie whispered.

“Generous…?” I asked, confused.

Sophie gestured toward the car. “Hop in front. Sit with him.”

My pulse quickened. The front seat. With him. My mind scrambled as we approached. Damian’s gaze flicked to me briefly as he opened the door. “Get in,” he said, calm, composed, and impossibly cool.

I slid into the passenger seat, Sophie taking the back. Damian started the engine, the quiet hum of the car filling the space between us. The car rolled forward, the city blurring around us as the tension in the air thickened.

The ride started quietly, the kind of silence that made every small movement feel amplified. Damian reached for the air vent to adjust it, and I caught the subtle sweep of his hand brushing near mine. My pulse quickened, and I realized this was the the kind of unspoken attraction that lingered, electric and impossible to ignore.

Halfway through the drive, Damian’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then answered. “Hey, Mom,” he said, his voice steady. Conversation flowed naturally, his tone shifting as he listened and responded. I stole glances at him, noting the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiled, the way his jaw flexed subtly as he thought.

A few minutes later, Sophie leaned slightly forward from the back seat. “I want to talk to Mom too,” she said, casually.

Damian’s hand paused on the wheel. “Alright… here,” he said, passing the phone back to her. Sophie smiled, chatting animatedly while I gave directions to my street, Damian navigating the roads with calm precision.

I sat beside him, feeling the warmth of the car, the quiet thrum of the engine, and the soft tension that hummed between us.

When we reached my house, Damian parked smoothly. I stepped out, giving a small, polite nod. Sophie and Damian continued on their way, laughter and conversation fading behind me as I watched them leave.

I entered the house, my heart still thrumming with the unspoken tension of the ride.