Page 44 of Muse (The Forbidden Hearts #1)

SOPHIE

T hree Months Later

My room looks like a tornado hit. Half-filled boxes are scattered across the floor, clothes draped over the bed, a mix of college supplies and old sketchpads I can’t quite bring myself to throw away.

The air smells like cardboard and laundry detergent, and the August heat presses against the windows like it’s trying to suffocate me.

I sit cross-legged on the floor, a mess of socks in my lap, when I find it.

His hoodie.

Folded in the back of my closet, tucked under an old sketchbook like I was hiding it even from myself. I freeze.

It still smells faintly of him. Cedar and wood smoke and just a hint of spice.

My chest tightens.

I bring it to my face, just for a second. Long enough to remember his arms around me, his voice in my ear. The nights I spent wrapped in his arms, naive enough to believe we had a future together.

I don’t cry. I thought I might, but I don’t .

Instead, I fold it neatly and slide it into a small box labeled keepsakes . Not for my dorm, I don’t need the reminder haunting me now. But I don’t want it gone either. No, I can’t bring myself to get rid of it entirely.

He mattered. That doesn’t have to disappear just because I’m trying to move on.

A knock sounds at the door before it opens a crack. My sister’s voice drifts in. “Dare I enter?”

“Not sure you should,” I mutter, smiling faintly. “Come in.”

Bells peeks in and immediately steps over a pile of clothes. “Damn. You gonna bring the whole room with you?”

I shrug. “Some of us over-pack when we have anxiety.”

She raises a brow but says nothing, just grabs the nearest box and starts taping it shut. “You nervous?”

“Terrified.”

She nods. “I don’t blame you. But this is the beginning of your new life, you get a fresh start.”

I glance at her, nodding stiffly. “It’s what I’ve always dreamed of… but now that it’s here, I don’t know… the fear is real.”

We finish packing in silence for a few minutes. As she finishes sorting through a pile of clothes for me, she throws a glance over her shoulder. “I hope it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

I smile, whispering a soft “Me too.”

The summer flew by, Sal practically dragged me around town to keep me distracted. I’m grateful for it, too. Without her, I’d likely have spent the entire time inside, wallowing in self-pity.

My parents freaked out when I’d told them about art school, but honestly, after everything with Theo… I think they realized it’s the best they’ll get from me. At least it’s school.

Tomorrow, I leave home and head to my new beginning in the city. A new dorm, new people, a whole lot of the unknown. I’m determined to make the best of it.

Our goodbyes are awkward. My mother had wanted to come along, take photos to post on social media and find something to brag about. I'd declined though, blaming the chaos of move-in day for not wanting company.

In truth, I want to be able to take it all in, free from anyone else's expectations or opinions. I don't want today to be overshadowed by conflict or snide remarks.

Today is my first day of freedom, the beginning of the rest of my life. I want to soak it all in.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about Theo today, about how he should be there, waiting for me. But each time his face appears in my thoughts, trying to crowd its way in, I push it away.

Going down that road will only dampen my excitement, my happiness. It’s not worth it today.

My car is loaded up with clothes, essentials, and decor. Sketchbooks, paint, and charcoals are safely tucked away in a box labeled “art”. I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but I'll only be an hour away.

Sal and I said our goodbyes a few days ago, but in reality, I'm sure I'll be seeing her before the week is out. She's taking a year off and staying home because she doesn’t feel ready to choose a career yet.

I don't blame her. If I was in her shoes, I'd take my time, too.

I give Bells the biggest hug before hopping into the driver's seat, punching in the address for my dorm into my phone's GPS, and pulling away from the curb.

The drive is easy enough, one I've done plenty of times. Into the city I go. Excitement begins to rush through my veins the closer I get, knowing this is where I'll be living now .

No more small town, no more parents breathing down my neck, keeping track of my every move. I'm officially on my own.

When I find the correct building downtown, it takes me another ten minutes to figure out where the hell I'm supposed to park. The damn parking garage is a block away, and hidden in plain sight.

This'll be fun, I groan, realizing the number of trips I'll need to make with all of my stuff. Maybe I should've brought some help after all.

I decide to take a suitcase of clothes, grabbing my phone charger and iPad as well from another bag, then sling my backpack over my shoulder and begin the walk to my new home.

The building towers high above me, fourteen stories tall. I hesitate at the entrance, taking in the buzzing sounds of the city surrounding me, and close my eyes. I take one long, deep breath, full of gratitude, then step inside.

The email I'd received from admissions had given me my room number, so I check-in at the front desk and grab my keys, then head upstairs.

The building on the inside explodes with color, art framed on every wall. The furniture itself is art, bold colors and sharp lines drawing my eye this way and that.

It's busy, yet somehow cohesive in the same breath. I adore it.

When I find the correct door, I take a deep breath, hoping beyond hope that I like my new roommates. I slip the key into the lock and push open the door.

The apartment style dorm opens up into a shared open concept with a living space, small kitchen, eating area, and living room. Bright orange couches sit against two stark white walls and a large flat-screen TV hangs opposite them.

The kitchen is modern and clean, not yet littered with signs of daily living. So far, the space seems practically empty, and I wonder if I'm the first to arrive .

Attached to the shared space sits four bedrooms, two beds in each. A full bathroom frames the space on either side.

It's beautiful, colorful, and my new home. I already feel more at peace here than I ever did under my parents’ roof, and the reality of that makes me want to cry.

I find my room to the far left and crack open the door, peeking inside. Both beds sit untouched. No sign of another person’s bedding or belongings, so I guess I get first dibs. I choose the one on the outside wall, setting my bag on the twin mattress.

The room is nice, if a bit small, with two beds and two desks, and small closets for each of us. I sit down on the bed and bounce a little bit, getting a feel for the mattress. Seems pretty nice for a dorm.

I smile and sigh, relaxing into the space. I fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and soak in the peace and quiet for a few moments longer.

The silence breaks when I hear voices and a key turning in the lock. I take a deep breath and steel my resolve, ready to meet my new roommates, and hopefully friends.

I've never been good at making friends, Sal being the one exception, but I vow in this moment to do better, to at least give it a genuine try.

I jump up from the bed and head back into the living space, hands clasped behind my back as I wait for whoever it is to enter. Be cool , I tell myself.

The door swings open, revealing two girls that look roughly my age. One has gorgeous red hair down to her waist and a face littered with freckles. The other is a brunette with a pixie cut that frames her beautiful, delicate features.

“Hi, I'm Sarah,” the brunette says. Her voice is light and whimsical, like I'd imagine a fairy would sound like. Fitting. “And this is Angie.”

They both smile at me, and I can tell immediately that they're kind. Warmth rolls off of them both, I can feel it from across the room.

“Hi! Great to meet you guys. I’m Sophie.” I give a little wave and then want to die. I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Who waves at people like that?

But Sarah waves back with a chuckle, and I feel a bit more at ease already. “Are you the first one here?” she asks.

“From what I can tell, yeah. Just got here a few minutes ago.”

“Which room is yours?” Angie asks.

“Room A, what about you?”

She smiles, “Me too! Sarah, you're in C, right?”

“Oh—,” I say sheepishly, “Do you want to switch? I'm sure you want to room together since you guys are friends…” I trail off, feeling more silly by the second.

Angie huffs a laugh. “Oh, girl we just met downstairs. And we are all going to be besties! Just you wait.”

I nod, smiling again. “Can I help you guys bring anything in?” I eye a wagon in the hallway, piled high with boxes and bags.

“Yes, please! And if you need help getting anything from your car, feel free to use the wagon. We are heading down for Angie's stuff next,” Sarah chimes.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver. I just about died when I saw how far I'd have to walk lugging boxes by hand.”

Angie retrieves a bluetooth speaker from her backpack and throws on some music then gets to work unloading a box of dishes and cutlery.

I help them unpack, singing along to the playlist and laughing at Sarah’s horrible dish-stacking logic. We hang posters, trade stories, and by the time the sun starts to dip, I realize I haven’t thought about the ache in my chest for almost an hour.

Progress, I guess.

I’m building a life here. I just wish he was here to see it.