Page 5

Emmie

I’m not sure what I expected from university. Maybe lots of work and pressure. But it’s nothing like that. I hardly have any lectures, and so I get to spend a lot of my day reading from the list they provided. And so, after a full week here, I’m relaxed and enjoying every second.

So when Landon suggests we head out on campus and hand our resumes out to coffee shops and bars, I’m fully on board. With the way we’re partying, I’m gonna need the extra cash flow.

Zara falls into step beside me, “I think every bar we go in to hand these out, we get a shot.”

I roll my eyes. “And when we’re three bars in, we’ll be shit faced and no one will employ us.”

Zara grins, “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Landon laughs from ahead of us. “Let’s compromise. Every other bar gets a shot.”

“Deal,” Zara says, already pulling out the small stack of printed resumes she stuffed into her tote bag. “Let’s start with that cute little cocktail place by the library. I saw a help wanted sign in the window.”

The three of us make our way across campus.

The sun’s out and casting everything in that golden, back-to-school kind of glow.

Students are sprawled across benches and grass, laughing, sharing coffee, headphones, and lingering glances.

It’s easy to forget we’re all technically meant to be here for the academics.

We walk into the first bar, and I suddenly feel very aware of my surroundings. The music, the subtle lighting, the way the bartender leans on the counter as he chats to a table of girls. This place feels like uni. Young and new and free.

I hand over my resume with a smile, and to my surprise, the manager asks if I can come back for a trial shift next week.

Landon whistles low as we leave. “Look at you, already charming the locals.”

“I said four words,” I laugh.

“Powerful words,” Zara teases, nudging me.

By the third place, a noisy pub just off campus with worn leather booths and a jukebox in the corner, we’re buzzing. Zara’s had her shot. Landon’s flirting with the bartender in the hopes of skipping the queue. And I’m leaning against the bar, watching the room pulse with people.

It hits me again, how different this is from everything I knew back home. How free I feel. And how much I want to keep it that way.

Zara returns from the loo and slips her arm through mine. “I say we do one more bar. Then food. Then Netflix and death.”

I laugh. “I like your plan.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Noah steps in front of us. “I just got here.”

“We have plans with Netflix,” says Zara, going to step around him.

“Come on,” he groans. “Just have a couple.”

I can already see Zara wavering, and then Landon throws his arm around my shoulder. “A couple won’t hurt.”

I sigh, but I’m smiling. “You guys are a nightmare.”

“No,” Zara says, linking her arm through mine. “We’re the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Noah raises a brow. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Before I can argue, Landon is steering us back inside. The pub is louder now, a new crowd filtering in, the music turned up a notch. Someone’s dragging chairs into a circle near the back, and I recognise a few faces from campus, already half a pint in and well on their way.

“I feel like we’re always just staying for one ,” I mutter to Zara as we squeeze through a narrow gap between tables.

“That’s because we are,” she replies, grinning. “Every single time.”

I take a seat near the edge of the group, Zara and Landon claiming the spots beside me. Noah disappears for drinks and returns with shots we definitely didn’t ask for.

“To flat friendships and bad decisions,” he says, raising his glass.

I clink mine against his reluctantly. “You’re going to kill us.”

He winks. “But we’ll die happy.”

We shoot them, and my eyes water instantly. Whatever it was, it’s strong enough to wipe out every plan we had for an early night.

The conversation flows and we soon relax into teasing chatter whilst laughing until our faces ache.

Landon leans over and murmurs, “You good?”

I nod. “Actually, yeah. Weirdly good.”

“Guys, you don’t mind if the lads from my class come do you?” asks Noah, glancing up from his mobile.

Zara groans, “Oh no, not sports people, how will we ever cope with all those abs and floppy hair?”

Noah playfully shoves her, and she giggles, throwing her arms around him. “You better set me up with a fitty.”

“But first, we should do karaoke,” Landon announces.

“Absolutely not,” I cry, as he grabs my hand and begins to drag me to the front where the DJ is setting up the mic.

Zara is already handing over our song choice to the guy, her eyes glittering with mischievous excitement.

“Please tell me you didn’t pick –” I start.

The intro to “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls blasts out before I can finish.

“I had to!” Zara yells over the cheers of the crowd. “It’s a classic!”

There’s no time to protest. A microphone is shoved into my hand, Landon grabs another, and Noah’s already trying to imitate the moves from the music video. We fall into it, badly, off-key, and full of energy.

Landon can’t keep a straight face, Noah keeps missing his lines and making up new ones, and Zara somehow knows every word, every move, and makes it look like a Broadway audition.

We’re shouting more than singing, dancing like idiots, and the whole pub is loving it.

Phones are out. People are clapping. And again, I’m reminded of how happy I feel right now.

And that’s when I see him.

Kai Banks.

He’s leaning back in a booth near the bar, as if this is his kingdom and we’re just extras in it.

He’s got one arm slung casually around a girl in a tiny top, the other resting behind another girl who’s whispering something in his ear. He doesn’t even look at them. His eyes are on me .

Just watching. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He’s testing the waters.

I freeze mid-line, my voice catching in my throat.

Zara picks up the slack instantly, belting out the next verse while giving me a look that says, what’s wrong?

But I can’t answer. I can’t do anything but stare.

Kai smirks, slow and lazy. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

And I hate that it still hits me. I hate that I care.

I force myself to keep going, finish the song, laugh at Noah’s terrible attempt at a high note, and pretend I’m fine.

But inside, I’m burning.

Kai

I take a slow sip of my drink with my eyes firmly fixed on the stage .

Emmie. One-hundred-percent. Her voice. Her smile.

But different hair, she wears it longer now with a slight bouncy curl at the ends.

And she’s wearing make-up. Her clothes are new, gone are the baggy jumpers and too long jeans.

Now, she shows her flat stomach off in cropped shirts and her perfectly rounded backside in tight fit jeans.

And I don’t know if I’m pissed she’s here, dancing, laughing, being someone new and different. Or, if I’m pleased she’s here, because now she can’t ignore me and pretend I don’t exist.

The guy next to her, that Landon bloke, he’s a little too handsy for my liking. And I wonder what the deal is there. Has she moved on?

I shift in my seat just as Noah spots me from across the bar. His eyes light up and he waves me over. Shit. Before I can pretend I didn’t see him, he’s already making his way to me, dodging a couple of girls mid-dance.

“Kai!” he grins, clapping me on the back. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

I smirk. “Beer and terrible singing? I’m not made of stone.”

He laughs, then glances back toward the others. “Come join us. I’ll introduce you to my flatmates. You’ll love them, they’re a laugh.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah? Anyone I should know?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, just good people. You’ll love Emmie, she’s–” he pauses, grinning, she’s cooler than she looks.”

I arch a brow. The Emmie I knew would throw a shit fit if she was described as cool. “Oh, I’m sure I will,” I say, my smirk curling deeper as I down the rest of my drink and stand. “Lead the way.”

This is going to be fun.

Noah leads me through the crowd toward their table. Emmie has her back to me and she’s laughing at something Landon said, her head thrown back in a way that makes something uncomfortable twist in my chest.

“This lot were the stars of karaoke,” Noah says proudly as we reach them. “Zara, Landon, Emmie; this is my mate, Kai. We’re on the same course.”

Zara grins and offers a small wave, and Landon nods, appraising me in that subtle, male way, telling me he’s measuring me up. Emmie does a slight glance over her shoulder, one that says she isn’t interested, but she doesn’t want to seem rude in front of her new friends.

I lift my brows, playing it cool. “Hey,” I say.

“You’re on the same course?” Zara repeats, finally taking an interest in me.

“We are,” I say, giving her my award-winning smile.

“Are you living on campus?” she asks, taking a sip of her drink.

I shake my head. “You came to my place last night,” I say, risking the chance to confirm it was definitely Emmie.

This time, her head whips round. “It was you,” she murmurs, her brows furrowed.

“If you mean it was him that sucked a girls nipple bar in front of the entire room, then yes,” says Noah, laughing hard and slapping me on the back. “Kai here is a real charmer, so watch yourself girls.”

“You always did love a show,” she mutters, her cheeks burning red.

“Hold on, you two know each other?” asks Zara, gasping. “Oh my god, no way.”

“Unfortunately,” says Emmie, her posture stiff as she turns her back to me again.

“How?” asks Landon, and I notice he’s taken a step closer to Emmie.

“We were a thing in college,” I say casually.

She slams her drink down and it spills over the edge. “We were not a thing ,” she snaps, and then she visibly shudders as if my entire presence irritates her. “It was barely anything at all.”

“Ouch,” I mutter, still smirking.

Zara’s eyes go wide as they dart between me and Emmie. “Wait, he’s not the guy?” she asks, her voice high with disbelief.

Emmie groans softly, like she wants the floor to open and swallow her whole. “Zara.”

But that little reaction is all the confirmation I need. “The guy?” I echo, my smirk deepening. “You’ve been talking about me, Little Rebel?”

Emmie flinches at the old nickname, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. “Shut up,” she mutters, snatching a napkin to dab at the drink she spilled.

Zara’s hand covers her mouth. “Oh my god. It is him. The phone guy. The –”

“Zara,” Emmie snaps, sharper now. “Not. Now.”

I watch the blush rise on her cheeks. She’s flustered and despite the spike of guilt I’m not proud of, I can’t lie, I like knowing I still get to her.

Landon clears his throat, clearly picking up on the vibe, and steps in. “You didn’t say he was this much of a –”

“Tool?” Emmie offers bitterly, cutting him off.

Zara leans toward me, curious now, eyes gleaming with gossip. “So, you two dated and you ghosted her?”

I scoff at the lie. Maybe she told them that to make me look a bigger dick. “I didn’t ghost her,” I say smoothly, my eyes locked on Emmie. “She blocked me.”

“For a good reason,” she fires back, arms now folded, defensive. “How are you even here?”

“What, you didn’t think I could get into Uni?” I ask, mildly offended.

“What with all your scheming, I didn’t think you’d have time,” she bites back.

Noah finally steps in, scratching his neck awkwardly. “Okay, this got weird.”

I can’t pretend her words haven’t got to me, so I take a drink of my beer. “Whatever, Em. It’s good to see you’re still a bitch.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing Landon’s hand. “Come on, let’s find a table upstairs.”

I watch them go, Landon’s hand ghosting the small of her back, marking her for my benefit.

Cute.

But I’m not worried.

This year’s just getting started.