Chapter 5: Panic and Pep Talks
866 Words
“I’m not ready for this,” I muttered, pacing across the campus courtyard as Hanna trailed behind me like a smug shadow.
“You’re being dramatic,” she said, already munching on a granola bar. “This is, like, the bare minimum level of chaos in a romance arc.”
“Bare minimum? Hanna, five of my childhood friends just confessed they have feelings for me. At the same time! I feel like I’m in one of your cheesy magazine serials.”
She beamed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I spun to face her. “It is! I don’t know what to do. I’m not used to being… wanted.”
“Elyse,” she said, stepping closer, her playful tone softening. “You’re amazing. Kind, smart, strong as hell. You’ve got this light that they all orbit around and don’t even realize it.”
I flopped onto the bench and groaned. “That’s a romantic metaphor and a lot of pressure.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the main character life.”
We sat in silence for a minute. Hanna leaned back against the bench and looked up at the sky.
“I always knew this would happen,” she said eventually. “I just didn’t know when. They were all so obvious. Daniel gets quiet when he looks at you. Adrian turns into your personal guard dog. David flirts with everything that moves—except you. With you, he’s careful. That means something.”
I turned to her, eyes wide. “Wait—David is careful with me?”
“Painfully,” she confirmed. “And don’t even get me started on Cyrus. He watches you like you’re a puzzle he wants to solve but is afraid he’ll break. And Lance? That boy might as well tattoo your name on his forehead.”
I laughed despite myself. “This is so much.”
She nudged me with her shoulder. “It’s also kind of beautiful, you know? They love you for who you really are. Not for how you look when I doll you up—though that helps.”
“I don’t want to hurt any of them.”
“Then be honest. Take your time. You don’t owe them answers now.”
I nodded slowly. “You’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
We shared a smile, and for a moment, the panic lessened.
That’s when my phone buzzed.
Adrian: Hey. Can we talk? Just the two of us?
I stared at the screen. My fingers hovered over the reply button.
“You don’t have to go,” Hanna said, reading my face.
“I know,” I said quietly. “But I think I want to.”
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The sun was setting when I reached the art studio. Adrian had texted me to meet him there. It was one of his favorite places—quiet, filled with paint and unfinished canvases and the smell of turpentine.
He was sitting near the window, a sketchpad on his lap, guitar beside him.
“You came,” he said, standing quickly.
“Of course,” I said. “I didn’t want things to get weird between us.”
He gave a soft laugh. “Bit late for that.”
I smiled awkwardly and stepped inside. “So…”
“I wanted to see you without the others around,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Not to pressure you. Just to talk.”
I nodded, standing beside him as he opened his sketchbook.
There was a drawing—charcoal, raw, beautiful. Me.
Not in the prom dress or a girlish pose. It was me in my martial arts gear, hair tied up, eyes fierce and focused. Strong.
“You drew me?”
“I’ve drawn you a lot,” he admitted. “But this one… this is how I see you.”
I swallowed, unsure what to say. “You always make me look better than I am.”
“No,” he said, turning to face me. “I draw what’s already there.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy and full.
“I didn’t expect all of you to feel that way,” I admitted. “I didn’t see it.”
“You were never supposed to,” he said gently. “Not until you were ready.”
“And if I’m never ready?”
His eyes didn’t falter. “Then I’ll still be here. As your friend. As your bandmate. As the guy who’ll punch anyone who hurts you.”
I laughed, and it came out shaky. “You’re such a sap.”
“I prefer ‘loyal,’” he said with a smile.
“I’m scared, Adrian.”
He reached for my hand but didn’t take it. Just hovered nearby. “That’s okay. Love’s scary. But we’ve got time.”
I looked at him then—really looked.
Maybe I wasn’t ready to choose. Maybe I didn’t even know what I wanted.
But I knew this: Adrian wasn’t just one of the boys anymore.
None of them were.
And that terrified me more than any sparring match ever had.
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End of Chapter 5
- Writer
