Page 22 of Echoes of Us

T he lecture hall breathed with the collective anxiety of fifty students, their presence marked by squeaking chairs and nervous pen-tapping.

Ancient wood paneling absorbed their whispers, reduced now to near-silence as the former TA's email about a family emergency was confirmed by Dale's unexpected presence at the front of the hall.

He moved between the rows distributing exams, his careful movements so different from Cole's restless energy.

Ashley shifted in her rigid wooden seat, hyperaware of how her turtleneck pressed against the marks Cole had left. She'd chosen black despite the season's warmth, the fabric now damp at her collar. Each subtle movement brought fresh evidence of last night's spectacular unraveling.

She found her attention drifting to Dale despite herself.

The way he held himself - the same height as Cole, same elegant hands, but where Cole moved like barely contained lightning, Dale's presence was all about quiet comfort.

He'd rolled his sleeves up in the warm room, revealing forearms identical to his brother's, yet somehow softer. Less threatening.

When Dale passed her row, his cologne - woody, earthy and subtle, nothing like Cole's fresh dark scent - made her fingers clench around her pencil. His shadow fell across her exam booklet as he paused, probably noting her white-knuckled grip.

"You’ve got this," he whispered, too quietly for anyone else to hear, and moved on.

Two hours later, Ashley's hand cramped around her pencil, as Dale called time.

Her hair had come loose from its careful arrangement, strands sticking to the back of her neck where sweat had gathered despite the room's chill.

She caught Dale's eye as she handed in her exam - his encouraging smile made guilt twist in her stomach, especially when she thought the mark on her neck had started to peek above her collar.

But she'd done well. She knew it with the same certainty she'd known the answers to questions that would have baffled her a week ago.

Every solution, every proof carried echoes of Cole's voice, his impatient sighs, and the way his hands moved when explaining concepts to her for the tenth time. Without him...

She shook her head, gathering her things. Without him, she wouldn't be here at all, in more ways than one.

The hallway afterward felt unnaturally quiet, her footsteps echoing off marble floors. The heavy doors creaked softly as she pushed through them, adjusting to the change in pressure between the stuffy lecture hall and the open corridor.

Her heart stuttered to a stop.

Cole leaned against the stone balustrade, one hand running through already disheveled hair.

His white shirt was rolled to his elbows, and tie loosened - looking nothing like the controlled man who'd drilled physics into her head all week.

When he turned, the shadows under his eyes matched her own sleepless night.

He must have been waiting here for her. The thought made her chest tight.

"Well?" The word came out rough like he'd had to force it past something stuck in his throat.

Her bag slipped off her shoulder, landing with a dull thud on her feet. "You were right about the uncertainty principle."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, gone so quickly she might have imagined it. His eyes caught on her collar, where she knew the mark he'd left was now visible. Something dark flashed across his face.

"Cole-" she started, taking a step forward.

"Don't." He straightened, putting careful distance between them. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't completely bomb it. Wouldn't want my... tutoring... to be a waste."

The deliberate pause, the way his gaze flickered over her body - he was trying to reduce last night to something casual, something meaningless. The realization hurt worse than his misunderstanding about Dale.

"It wasn't a waste," she said quietly. "None of it was."

His jaw clenched. For a moment, she thought he might say something else, might finally hear what she was really trying to tell him. Instead, he pushed off from the balustrade, shoulders rigid with tension.

"Good luck with the research position," he said, voice carefully neutral. "Try not to break my brother's heart."

He was gone before she could respond, leaving her standing in the empty hallway with an aced physics exam and the growing certainty that she'd somehow managed to fail something far more important.

* * *

Ashley stared at her phone's screen, at the string of unanswered texts she'd sent Cole over the past week. The first few had been attempts at explanation. Then shorter, more desperate: 'We need to talk.' 'Please.' And finally, last night: 'You can't avoid me forever.'

Except apparently, he could.

"If you check that phone one more time, I'm throwing it out the window.

" Marie sprawled across Ashley's bed, her dark curls spilling over rumpled sheets.

Empty coffee cups and discarded outfits littered the floor - evidence of an hour's worth of party preparation neither of them really wanted to do.

"Graduation's in two days," Ashley said quietly, tossing another dress aside. "He can't just..."

"Pretend nothing happened?" Marie's reflection met hers in the mirror, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. "Because that's exactly what Cole Westwood does. It's kind of his thing."

Heat crept up Ashley's neck. She tugged at the black dress she'd finally chosen - shorter than she'd usually wear, the fabric clinging to curves she'd normally try to downplay. "This isn't about-"

"The fact you've been wearing turtlenecks all week?" Marie rose from the bed, coming to stand behind Ashley. Her hands were gentle as she fixed a strand of Ashley's hair. "You don't have to explain. Just... be careful tonight, okay?"

"You know Cole from before, right?" Ashley asked Marie. "Sarah told me you went to high school with him."

Heat crept up Marie's cheeks, and she suddenly became very interested in organizing Ashley's scattered makeup brushes. "What if I did?"

"When did he change? Start partying and treating ladies like chewing gum?"

Marie's hands stilled. "He didn't... it wasn't like flipping a switch.

" She sat on the edge of the bed, something distant in her expression.

"Junior year, he was just Cole. Quiet, actually.

Kind of a nerd - always helping Dale with calculus, always had his nose in some physics book.

The kind of guy who'd give you his jacket when it rained and never expect it back. "

Ashley's heart twisted. That sounded more like her Cole.

"Then he got offered to skip a grade with Dale.

When he refused..." Marie shook her head.

"By senior year, he was dating Jessica Mitchell - you know, the type.

Queen bee, perfect hair, perfect everything.

After she cheated on him with the lacrosse captain.

.. well. That's when Cole Westwood really became Cole Westwood. "

"The one who doesn't get hurt because he hurts them first," Ashley murmured.

Marie's eyes snapped to hers, sharp with surprise. "Yeah. Exactly." She studied Ashley's face. "You know, that's the thing about Cole - everyone thinks they understand him. The bad boy, the player, the rebel without a cause. But you..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"What?"

"You look at him like you see something else. Something real." Marie stood, smoothing her dress. "Maybe that's why he's avoiding you. The Cole I knew? He was real. This version? He's spent years making sure no one sees past the act."

Ashley twisted her rings, processing this new piece of Cole's history. The good boy Marie described - she could see him in her Cole, in the man that he would become.

"People can change back," she said softly, more to herself than Marie. "They can find their way home."

Marie studied her for a long moment. Then she stood, lips curving into a determined smile. "Well, if anyone's going to remind Cole Westwood who he used to be, it might as well be the girl who sees right through him. Now come on - let's make you devastating."

An hour later, Ashley barely recognized herself in the mirror.

The black dress was a weapon in its own right - short enough to make a statement but fitted in a way that was more elegant than obvious.

Marie had insisted on smoky eyes that made the honey-gold of her irises stand out and had tamed her hair into waves that fell just right across her shoulders, artfully hiding the mostly faded marks on her neck.

Marie herself was a vision in deep burgundy, the color striking against her dark skin. The dress wrapped around her curves like liquid, its long slit offering teasing glimpses of her leg as she moved. She'd pulled her curls up, gold earrings catching the light with each turn of her head.

"We look hot," Marie declared, snapping a selfie of them both. "Time to make some bad decisions."

The party pulsed with life by the time they arrived, bass vibrating through the floorboards of the old fraternity house.

Bodies pressed together in the main room, moving to music Ashley felt in her bones.

The air was thick with spilled beer, sweet perfume, and end-of-semester desperation - everyone was determined to make these last moments count.

Her heart stopped when she spotted him. Cole dominated a corner of the room and his white dress shirt rolled to his elbows, dark jeans sitting low on his hips.

A half-empty bottle of whiskey dangled from his long fingers, and a redhead in a barely-there crop top pressed against him like she was trying to climb inside his skin.

Her curves strained against emerald green satin, magnificent breasts practically spilling into Cole's chest as she laughed at something he'd said.

Marie squeezed Ashley's arm. "Come on, let's get a drink."

But Ashley couldn't tear her eyes away. She watched him through the night, each shot he took matching the growing ache in her chest. Girls orbited him like they couldn't help themselves - the redhead's hands in his hair as they danced, a blonde pressing champagne kisses to his jaw, a brunette's fingers tracing the muscles of his forearm.

He entertained them all with that sharp smile she'd grown to hate, but his eyes.

.. his eyes kept finding her across the room, dark with something that wasn't quite anger.

By midnight, the party had devolved into that particular brand of chaos of drunk students who’d just finished their finals. Ashley pushed through the crowded bathroom, desperate to escape the press of drunk, sweating bodies and the sight of Cole's hands on yet another strange girl's waist.

When she emerged, Marie was nowhere to be found.

She weaved through the crowd, the bass thrumming through her bones, until voices near the kitchen caught her attention. One was unmistakably Cole's - a low rumble that still made her skin prickle. The other...

"I can't believe you remember that," Marie was saying, her usual confidence replaced by something softer. Ashley rounded the corner to find them by the drinks table, Marie tucking a curl behind her ear as Cole leaned close to be heard over the music.

"Junior year chemistry," he said, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. "You were the only one who laughed at my terrible periodic table jokes."

Marie actually giggled - Marie, who Ashley had never heard make such a sound. "They were awful. But you looked so proud of them."

Something twisted in Ashley's stomach. This was a different Cole than the one who'd been performing all night. This one was almost... gentle.

Cole's eyes found her over Marie's shoulder. Something flickered in them - recognition, want, anger - before his mask slammed back into place. He straightened, reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

Marie turned, spotted Ashley, and had the grace to flush. "I was just... we were..." She glanced between them, understanding dawning. "I should find Sarah."

She squeezed Ashley's arm as she passed, an apology in the gesture. Ashley barely noticed, too focused on the way Cole's hands were white-knuckled around the bottle, the way his careful distance had cracked just enough to show something raw underneath.

"Enjoying the party?" he asked, voice slurring slightly. He'd been drinking steadily all night, she realized. Each girl, each shot, each performance - all of it fueled by whatever demon he was trying to drown.

"Cole-"

"Want to know something funny?" He pushed off from the table, swaying into her space. "You remind me of her sometimes. Marie. Back before everything went to shit."

Anger flushed through her, "don't compare-"

"But that's not what you want to hear, is it?" His laugh was bitter, edges sharp enough to cut. "You want poetry. Romance. All those pretty words that make girls think they're special." He leaned closer, alcohol heavy on his breath. "Want to hear my favorite? The one that always works?"

Cole swayed closer, backing her against the wall. His fingers traced up her arm as his voice dropped to a whisper meant only for her.

"I love you without knowing how..." his hand slid to her waist, "or when..." fingers spanning her ribcage, "or from where." His thumb brushed the underside of her breast, making the pure words sound like sin.

Ashley felt sick as he continued, his mouth at her ear. "I love you straightforwardly..." His hips pressed forward, making it clear exactly what he meant by 'straight.' "Without complexities or pride."

She tried to push him away, but he caught her wrist, pinning it to the wall as he switched poems. His voice turned darker, mocking.

"If you were coming..." He emphasized the word deliberately, making her cheeks burn. "I'd brush the Summer by, with half a smile..." His free hand slid down her side, "and half a spurn..."

Horror rose in her chest as she watched him destroy everything sacred about those words. The cards that had made her realize she loved him - was that all a lie? A means to an end? Something he’d use on just any girl?

"If I could see you in a year..." His fingers traced patterns on her hip that left no doubt about his meaning. "I'd wind the months in balls..."

She couldn't bear another second. Tears burned behind her eyes as she wrenched away from him, fleeing before he could finish. His bitter laughter followed her through the crowd, along with the echo of those ruined words.

That perfect moment in Dallas - the revelation of love through poetry and physics - lay shattered at her feet, tainted by this crueler version of the man she happened to love.