Page 26

TWENTY-SIX

SABLE

M y AirPods fill my brain with the most delicious brain rot music, a mix of beats and lyrics that feels almost like a lullaby to my overworked mind, as my fingers drum rhythmically against the wooden table of the library. It’s after midnight, the kind of hour where the world is eerily quiet, leaving the space to be claimed only by Dayton, me, and the senior aide—who, judging by the occasional blue light reflecting off his face, is probably just scrolling on his phone behind the counter.

I look over at Dayton, the dim, warm glow of the green-shaded lamps casting a soft illumination on his face and his sandy-colored hair, which has been tousled in every direction from hours of preparing this speech. He types at mach speed while simultaneously glancing at a textbook.

It’s cute, really. His thick-rimmed black glasses, which he only uses while on the computer, slowly slip off the bridge of his nose as he gets lost in concentration. Our table is cluttered with textbooks, art books, and my sketchpad. I reach for the cup of tepid coffee that Dayton hasn’t finished, hoping for a caffeine boost.

There’s a presence behind me, but the familiar scent of coconut lets me know who it is—Silas. I turn around and meet his gaze as he takes off his leather jacket and places it on the chair beside me. He plucks an AirPod out of my ear. “Burning the midnight oil?”

“Some people actually need to get work done,” I retort, pulling out the other AirPod and placing it back in its case.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by my jab. “Who says I don’t actually work?” Silas reaches over and helps himself to my Ziploc bag of pretzels, grabbing a handful and tossing one into his mouth.

I roll my eyes. “I don’t think I’ve seen you open your laptop the entire time since I’ve gotten here.”

Silas shrugs, then picks up a pretzel stick and flicks it in Dayton’s direction, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Dayton doesn’t even look up from his screen as he swats it away, muttering, “Fuck off, Si.”

But Silas ignores him, leaning over to peer at what I’m working on, his face inches from mine. His eyes scan my sketchpad briefly before looking up at me, a playful smirk forming, his one dimple showing. It’s like he knows exactly how to steal my breath without even trying. “What crawled up his ass?”

“One syllable, five letters.”

“I didn’t take Dayton for someone wanting to get pegged. You did that?”

I put down my pencil. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“One syllable, five letters.” He points at me, holding five fingers up with his other hand. “Sable!”

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, though we both know the insult has lost its sting. I’ve called him that countless times since we came to AGU, and it never seems to deter him. If anything, it only makes his smile widen, his unnaturally white teeth practically gleaming in the dim light.

Ever since our kiss the other day, he’s been different—warmer, more open, like the simple act of me kissing him had melted the icy walls he’s always kept around himself. But it didn’t do the same for me. Not completely, anyway.

It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss him; I did.

But there’s something about our shared past, about how we were when we were kids, sparring both physically and emotionally, that makes everything between us feel more complicated. I wanted to feel that spark again when I kissed him, and for a fleeting moment, I did. But it wasn’t enough to make me forget everything else—the way he treated me when we were teenagers, the cold, demanding behavior he’s shown since we reunited here.

There are times, like now, when I see glimpses of the Silas I used to know, the one who could make me laugh and feel safe. But then there are other times when he’s distant, detached, and those jagged edges of our past friendship cut even deeper.

“You love me.”

“Kind of like I love rubbing hand sanitizer into a paper cut.”

“Your attempts to wound me are weak, little devil. Try harder.”

Dayton hits the table with his fist and blows out a huff. “We aren’t fucking around, Si. We are trying to get actual work done.”

Silas shrugs. “The roles are seriously reversed right now.”

Dayton rolls his eyes, clearly done with the conversation, and pushes his chair back as he stands up. “I’m getting a refill. Do you want something else, babygirl?” he asks, his voice softening when he addresses me.

I shake my head, “No. It’s too late for more caffeine. I have an eight a.m. class.”

Dayton nods and heads off toward the café, leaving Silas and me alone. Silas watches him go, a slight pout forming on his lips. I can’t help but notice, and a small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “What put you in such a good mood?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Besides looking at a beautiful woman right now?”

“Are you high?”

“High on life.”

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. He’s ridiculously arrogant if he thinks these mind games are going to flip the script on whatever it is we have going on. “Dayton is working really hard on a speech. I have an essay I’m researching. So, if you came here to play games, we really can’t.”

“I talked to Levi.”

A lump in my throat forms, and I force a swallow into my throat. “And?”

He shakes his head. “The cops are looking into some other past shit of his…and they think that there may be something.”

“What is in his past?”

“It’s complicated. That isn’t my story to tell?—”

“Silas,” I cut him off, my voice practically begging now. I need to know. I need to understand what’s going on.

He scratches the back of his head. “Let’s just say that Dayton and Levi have a lot of baggage together.”

My brow furrows, trying to piece together the fragmented information he’s given me, but the conversation is abruptly cut short as Dayton returns with a freshly filled espresso cup and a bottle of water. He hands me the water with a small smile. “Gotta stay hydrated.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. I’m still processing what Silas just told me, but I push it to the back of my mind for now.

Dayton sits back down, putting his glasses back on. He glances at Silas, who’s still lounging in his chair, and sighs. “You’re still here,” he notes, his tone slightly dejected, as if he was hoping Silas would’ve taken the hint and left by now.

“I really only came to ask Sable if she’d sleep in my room tonight.”

“No. She stays in my room.”

My cheeks burn, a bright shade of pink creeping up my neck at the possessiveness in Dayton’s tone.

“She already agreed she’d sleep in mine tonight, right, little devil?”

I stammer, trying to find my words. “No, I did not?—”

“If you want to sleep in a bed with her, you sleep in mine. Those are my terms,” Dayton interjects, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Silas humphs, clearly entertained by the sudden shift in Dayton’s demeanor. “You drive a hard bargain, Day.” He winks at me, his grin widening. “See you tonight, little devil.”