The In Between

3: Possession

Tuesday Morning – Theo’s Absence

Theo wasn’t waiting outside her dorm.

Andrea told herself she didn’t care as she walked to her first class alone, but the whispers followed her like shadows.

“Did they already break up?”

“Probably. Theo never sticks with one girl for long.”

“Wonder if Caleb’s free now.”

She clenched her jaw and kept walking.

History Class – Caleb’s Advancements

Caleb slid into the seat beside her with a grin, his knee pressing against hers under the desk. “Morning, gorgeous. Miss me?”

Andrea didn’t look up from her notebook. “Not even a little.”

He chuckled, undeterred. “Ouch. Whitcombe’s got you trained already, huh?”

She shot him a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Caleb leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It means you’re too smart to be some guy’s trophy. Even if that guy’s Theo Whitcombe.”

Andrea rolled her eyes, but her stomach twisted.

Caleb’s fingers brushed hers as he “accidentally” grabbed her pen. “You know, if you ever get tired of playing his game… I’ve got better ones.”

She yanked the pen back. “I’m not playing anything.”

His smirk said otherwise.

Lunch – The Scholarship Table

Andrea sat with Lily and the others, picking at her food as the gossip swirled around her.

“Heard Theo was with Lottie last night.”

“No way, I saw him leaving some party with a girl from St. Mary’s.”

“Either way, Sinclair’s clearly not his priority.”

Her grip tightened on her fork.

Then—

A chair screeched. A hush fell.

Theo stood over the table, his expression thunderous.

Without a word, he grabbed Andrea’s wrist and yanked her up.

“Theo—”

“We’re leaving.”

He dragged her away from the scholarship table, his grip bruising, and shoved her into a secluded alcove near the courtyard.

The Confrontation

Andrea wrenched her arm free. “What the hell is your problem?”

Theo’s eyes burned. “My problem? You were sitting with them.”

“Because you weren’t here!”

He stepped closer, crowding her against the wall. “So that means you run straight to Greene?”

Andrea scoffed. “I didn’t run anywhere. He sat next to me in class. That’s it.”

Theo’s jaw clenched. “Bullshit. I heard what he said to you.”

Her stomach dropped. How?

Theo’s voice dropped to a growl. “You’re mine, Andy. Not his. Not anyone else’s.”

Before she could argue, his lips crashed against hers—hard, possessive, a silent warning to anyone watching.

Andrea pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that left her dizzy.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged. “No more Greene.”

Andrea’s pulse pounded. “You don’t get to disappear and then act like this.”

Theo’s thumb brushed her bottom lip, his voice softening just enough to make her stomach flip. “I had s**t to handle. But I’m here now.”

She wanted to stay mad. But the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world that mattered—made it impossible.

Theo pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re mine. And I’m yours. That’s how this works.”

Andrea exhaled shakily.

Theo smirked and kissed her again—softer this time, almost sweet. Then he laced their fingers together and led her back to his table, where his friends watched with knowing smirks.

Across the dining hall, Caleb’s eyes locked onto hers, his expression unreadable.

Theo didn’t let go of her for the rest of lunch.

His arm stayed locked around her waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her hip as he laughed too loud at his friends’ jokes. He nuzzled her neck between bites of food, his lips brushing her skin in a way that made her shiver—part irritation, part something she refused to name.

“God, Whitcombe, get a room,” Ollie groaned, tossing a grape at Theo’s head.

Theo caught it without looking and popped it into his mouth, grinning. “Jealous?”

Andrea stiffened as his hand slid higher under her blazer, his thumb dipping beneath the hem of her shirt. She grabbed his wrist, shooting him a warning look.

“Stop.”

His smile didn’t waver, but his grip tightened. “Make me.”

The table erupted into laughter, but Andrea’s skin prickled. This wasn’t affection. This was a performance—one where she was the prop.

The Fight – Away From Prying Eyes

She waited until they were alone in the courtyard, the brisk autumn air sharp against her flushed skin, before shoving him off.

“What the hell was that?”

Theo blinked, all faux innocence. “What?”

“You don’t get to disappear all morning and then act like some lovesick puppy to prove a point!”

His expression darkened. “I told you, I had s**t to handle.”

“Bullshit. You were avoiding me.”

Theo scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, so now I’m not allowed to breathe unless it’s for you? That’s rich, Andy.”

Andrea’s breath caught. That wasn’t—

“You’re the one who declared us a couple without asking,” she snapped. “You don’t get to vanish and then act like I’m the problem for existing without you.”

Theo stepped closer, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You were the problem today. Flirting with Greene—”

“I wasn’t—”

“—making me look like an i***t—”

“Theo!”

He crowded her against the stone wall, his hands braced on either side of her head. “You want to know where I was? Fine. I was dealing with my father, who’s pissed I’m ‘wasting time’ on a girl ‘beneath our standing.’ But you don’t get to throw a tantrum because I didn’t hold your hand through one f*****g morning.”

Andrea’s chest ached. That was the first real thing he’d said to her in days.

But then—

Theo’s eyes softened, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. But you have to understand—Greene’s not just flirting. He’s testing me. And if I let him think he can have you…”

He trailed off, but the implication hung heavy between them.

Andrea swallowed. “I’m not a prize to be won.”

Theo kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. “No. You’re mine.”

And just like that, the fight was over.

Because Theo Whitcombe didn’t lose.

He just made sure everyone—especially her—forgot what they were fighting about in the first place.

The Aftermath

When they returned to the dining hall, Theo’s arm was back around her, his laughter easy again.

But Andrea couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just lost something.

Across the room, Caleb watched them with a smirk.

Tuesday Afternoon – Art Club

The art room smelled of turpentine and charcoal, the afternoon light streaming through the tall windows in golden shafts. Andrea settled at an easel, her sketchpad open, trying to ignore Caleb’s presence two tables over.

Lottie was already there, meticulously shading a portrait with a smirk that promised trouble. Lily sat near Andrea, working on a watercolor landscape—her presence a quiet comfort.

Caleb, of course, didn’t stay put.

“Need some inspiration, Sinclair?” He leaned against her easel, grinning. “I’ve been told I’m very inspiring.”

Andrea rolled her eyes, smudging charcoal across her paper. “I’m sure you’ve been told a lot of things.”

Caleb laughed, undeterred. He grabbed a spare stool and dragged it next to hers, close enough that his knee brushed hers under the table. “Come on, let me see what you’re working on.”

Before she could protest, he reached over and flipped her sketchbook toward him. His fingers lingered on the edge, his thumb brushing hers.

Andrea yanked it back. “Hands off.”

Caleb held up his hands in mock surrender. “Feisty. I like it.”

Lottie’s phone clicked softly from across the room.

Andrea glanced up just in time to see her lowering it, a smirk playing on her lips.

Shit.

The Photos

Lottie didn’t stop at one.

By the time the club was halfway through, Theo’s phone had buzzed with:

Photo 1: Andrea laughing at something Caleb said, her head tilted back, his grin smug beside her.

Caption: "Looks like someone’s moving on."

Photo 2: Caleb leaning over Andrea’s shoulder, his arms bracketing her as he “helped” her with her charcoal sketch. His chest nearly pressed against her back.

Caption: "Aw, teamwork."

Photo 3: Caleb whispering something in Andrea’s ear, her expression caught between irritation and reluctant amusement.

Caption: "Guess he’s better at this than you are."

Debate Club – Theo’s Mounting Fury

Theo’s grip on his debate notes turned the paper brittle.

His father sat in the back of the room, arms crossed, watching him like a hawk. If Theo walked out now, there’d be hell to pay.

But the photos kept coming.

His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.

Caleb’s hands on her.

Her laughter.

Lottie’s goddamn smirk in every shot.

Ollie, sitting beside him, glanced at his phone and let out a low whistle. “Damn. Greene’s got balls.”

Theo didn’t respond.

He couldn’t.

Not without breaking something.

Art Club – The Tension Rises

Andrea knew what Lottie was doing.

Every time Caleb got too close, every time she so much as smiled in his direction, she could feel the camera on her.

She should’ve walked away.

But part of her—the angry, bruised part—wanted Theo to see.

Wanted him to hurt like she had this morning.

So when Caleb leaned in again, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “You’re way too good for him, you know,” she didn’t pull away.

She just smirked.

And Lottie’s phone clicked one more time.

Debate Club – The Breaking Point

Theo’s phone lit up with the final photo.

Andrea, smirking up at Caleb like he’d just told her the best secret in the world.

His vision went red.

His father’s voice cut through the haze. “Theodore. You’re up.”

Theo stood mechanically, his debate notes crumpled in his fist.

He didn’t remember a single word he said.

But he did know one thing.

Caleb Greene was dead.

Dinner was a quiet affair—if quiet meant sitting at the scholarship table with Caleb Greene draped over the chair beside her, cracking jokes and stealing fries off her plate like they’d been friends for years.

Lily and the others watched with varying degrees of amusement and concern, but Andrea barely registered it. Her skin prickled with the weight of unseen eyes—Theo’s eyes—even though he wasn’t here.

He’s coming.

She knew it like she knew the taste of blood when she bit her lip too hard.