Page 27 of The Casualty of Us (Philosophies of the Heart Duet #1)

Chapter Fourteen

I skip breakfast the rest of the week.

Surviving off scones and snacks that I stockpiled before coming back to school and straddling a very fine line on all fronts.

Dodging Evie and Kennedy’s questions about both my status with Hayes and Graham.

Evading Marley and Holden’s knowingly cautious eyes during the times we’re all in the dorm.

Carefully keeping any interaction that Graham and I plan just overly friendly enough to keep people guessing without any other real commitment to the part.

Ensuring that we can both claim that it fizzled out to a friend situation in a couple of weeks.

And most importantly…

Paying absolutely no mind to Hayes’s intense hazel eyes as they track me anytime we’re in even the slightest proximity. The new shade of intensity in them sets me even further on edge with their sense of assessment.

Surprisingly, Ollie’s the one who leaves me alone, mostly.

Not even commenting on my behavior with Graham or mentioning Hayes once.

Going right along with my everything’s fine decree to a degree of perfection that has me resolving to immediately forgive him the next time he pisses me off.

He even goes so far as to bring me dinner a couple of nights that I hadn’t wanted to brave the mess hall or sit with Graham, who made clear that it’s an open invitation.

But Ollie…Ollie situated himself between me and Hayes in classes, checked in every night before bed, and overall went straight into full brother bear mode.

I really don’t know what I’d do without him.

“Ollie! Ollie! Please get up! Ollie!”

“Earth to Fitzroy.”

“Huh?” I blink, turning to look at Graham, where he’s walking beside me. “What?”

“You got a little lost there.” He smirks.

I open my mouth to apologize at the same time he reaches up, fingers barely brushing the ends of my hair before I’m pulling back. “Don’t touch my hair.”

Unable to help the weird reaction that’s been around since the kidnapping.

“Whoa.” His brows shoot up. “Boundary noted.”

“Sorry.” I blow out a deep breath, trying to ease the way my heart is suddenly all over the place and stopping as we come up on the one classroom I’ve been dreading going into all week.

Really hoping Hayes decided to drop debate instead of continuing with it like he planned at the end of last semester. “I do that sometimes.”

“Ah.” He gives me a knowing look. “Are we fizzling already then?”

“No.” I laugh softly, propping myself against the wall. “I really do zone out sometimes, but.” There’s some truth to his question, though, that has me shrugging. “Yeah, probably, I think another week is all I have left in me.”

His brown eyes move over me curiously. “The anger is fading.”

“Not fading so much as…” I trail off while searching for the right word to describe everything I’ve been internalizing this week, and my brows fall when I find it. “Accepting it, I think. Moving on.”

“Damn, that’s almost worse for him though…” He cringes dramatically with a sigh. “So much for living the fake boyfriend dream. You’re crushing me.”

“You’re terrible.” I shake my head at him and grin in spite of it. “Acting like I don’t know you really like someone else.”

“Maybe.” He teases back, face softening before he lowers his head beside mine to whisper. “But it’s still been fun.” His lips brush against my cheek and he rises back up with his usual smirk in place. “I’ll text you about the fizzle.”

He gives an amused chuckle while turning around and walking back down the hall.

Leaving me tracking him until a phone rings and I turn around to see Hayes standing at the other end of the hallway with a clear view of everything that just went down.

Hazel eyes all kinds of dark against the anger playing out over his face and that same intensity to him that I’ve been catching glimpses of all week.

Our eyes lock in the next instant and it immediately has an ache pulsing through my chest that I desperately try to push back against.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I jerk my eyes away, sucking in some air through my nose and hurrying into the classroom, scanning the seats for any available option except for the one I usually sit in beside Hayes at our table.

Hoping that people have moved around enough with the new semester that I can snag something far away before he makes it to the classroom.

An empty seat across the room snags my attention, and I immediately make a beeline for it, not even letting the sight of Lisette Conners at the table deter me from sliding into the spot next to hers.

She glances over at me and pauses, arching a brow. “Unexpected choice, Fitzroy.”

“Yeah, well.” I huff, setting my backpack down and unzipping it. “My options were limited.”

“I told her not to do it, you know.”

My brows fall at her words, but I wait until I have my tablet and the copy of The Prince we were supposed to read over break neatly laid out on the table to turn my attention to her again. “Told who not to do what?”

She gives me a clearly confused look for a second before her eyes light up. “No one told you.”

“What are you talking about, Conners?” I sigh. “No one told me what?”

She pauses again, her gaze moving around the room before coming back to mine. “Who Hayes was with. No one told you.”

“Oh,” I try to rally with the sound, giving her the first excuse that pops into my head. “I didn’t ask.”

Ignoring the truth that…I didn’t want to know. Because a face would have added to the pain when everything was supposed to be—

“It was Josey.” She shakes her head with a dry laugh. “I told her to not be stupid when she texted me that night, but clearly she didn’t listen.”

“Right, uh.” I swallow hard as my heart starts to skip all around. “Thanks.”

“Wow,” she scoffs. “A kind word from Ophelia Fitzroy, color me shocked…”

Her voice keeps up after that but I completely zone it out, a ringing starting up in my ears while staring down at my copy of The Prince with the blonde cheerleader springing to life in my head.

I go over every single time I’ve seen her around campus until I’m all the way back at the start of last semester.

Laying out on the dock with Hayes by my side.

“Isn’t she like a junior?”

“I don’t know, I guess.”

That motherfucker.

“Ophelia.” Lisette bumps my shoulder, and I look up to see everyone in the class pushing back tables and pulling their chairs toward the center of the room. “We’re doing a circle debate today.”

“Motherfucker.” I mutter the curse under my breath and quickly push back my own chair to stand before pulling it over to where the rest of the group is gathered.

Ending up with Lisette and some junior I don’t really know on either side of me as Hayes drags his chair loudly to the spot directly across from me.

That glorious new information I just learned sharpens that ache right back to a point again and leaves me tracking him through narrowed eyes.

Using it to build up every bit of my resolve and needing it all when he leans back in his chair and stares right at me.

Hazel meeting blue with nothing but unsaid things stretching taut between us.

“All right, class! Welcome back!” Our debate professor, Mrs. Long, claps her hands, and I finally turn my head to firmly block him out.

Her new pink cardigan this semester almost perfectly matches her lipstick, and she holds up a copy of The Prince in front of her.

“This book poses a number of questions, but first among them is how a ruler, or prince in this case, should maintain control over their people. Is it better to inspire fear or love within the populace for that purpose? Does the end goal justify any choices we might make to get there?” The string of questions ends with a light laugh from her, and she sets the book down in her lap.

“Now, I’ve found that this book always sparks great debates with my classes, so all of you better not let me down.

” She turns her head, looking us all over a couple of times before her gaze settles on me.

“Ophelia, why don’t you start us off? What was your take on The Prince ? ”

Of course.

Of freaking course.

Because this day just can’t get any better.

“Of course,” I repeat out loud, clearing my throat since it’s not her fault, and Mrs. Long has always been nice. “I agree with Machiavelli—” A barely there puff of laughter comes from across the circle, just loud enough to interrupt me and make my head whip his way. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” He pops the p on the word, leaning back even further in his chair until it’s resting on two legs. “Just unsurprised by your pessimistic take.”

His dimples twitch, and my eyes turn to slits as silence blankets the room, the only break in it the occasional rustle of people moving in their seats.

“My take isn’t pessimistic,” I snap back, unable to let the dig slide. “It’s realistic.”

He tips his head to the side, dimples making another deep appearance before he hides them away. “To you.”

“And let me guess.” I cross my arms. “You disagree?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He nods, dropping his chair to the ground. “I’d argue that one loyal person is worth a hundred that fear you.”

I scoff at his stupidly simplistic view. “Loyalty lasts only so long as it’s convenient for most people.”

“Unless there’s feeling driving it,” he argues back, leaning forward until his elbows are resting on his knees and narrowing his eyes back at me with something in them I’ve never seen from him before. “Unless there’s love.”

I scowl immediately at his point, ignoring the hitched little pain in my chest as he brings his hands together to point at me.

“Not even you can argue that some of the greatest acts of sacrifice made in the history of the world weren’t made in the name of love.”

“Exceptions.” I blink with the soft retort before clearing my throat.

“Not the rule.” He opens his mouth to respond, but I’m already there, determined not to let him win this one.

“Machiavelli is right when the theory is applied to the general populace, which was his intention with the book at the time. Sacrifices made out of love are the exception to the rule, which is why they’re so memorable.

Celebrated, even. People are generally only loyal when it suits them, and as Machiavelli points out in the book…

” I pause, cocking my head at him before emphasizing. “Love is fickle.”

Don’t fucking push me, Flynn.

“Who do you trust most in the world?”

Ollie.

A frown pulls at my lips as the immediate answer pops into my head, already knowing where he’s taking this. “That’s inconsequential—”

“So you’re saying it’s not because of love—”

“I’m saying Lisette here,” I cut in, dipping my head to the side with a nod to her. “Would probably be happy to stick a knife in my back if this classroom was a kingdom and I was its queen.”

She chuckles quietly before interjecting. “I’d give you the courtesy of it being face-to-face.”

“Thanks.” I snort. “But my point stands—”

“No.” He gives me a hard shake of his head. “I refuse to accept that you would be in any situation and not trust Ollie above anyone else because of the loyalty and love you have for each other.”

“Fine,” I concede with a short breath. “But you can’t apply that to—”

“If you take care of the people in the general populace. If you ensure their needs are met and they’re happy, they will fight harder for you than anyone will out of fear—”

“You still can’t apply that to everyone because everyone’s needs vary!” I toss out a hand in exasperation. “You can’t rely on the favor of the public!”

“So what? It’s a guillotine for every town?” His eyes narrow on mine again. “Fall in line without compromise or else? Because that’s what ruling through fear looks like.” He shrugs, a scoffed-up sound coming with a flex of his hands. “But hey, at least you still have your kingdom, right?”

And with that, I’m done.

“There has to be fear!” I immediately fill my chest with another deep breath to point out… “Society would fall apart without it, and all that supposed love and loyalty would lead to nothing but anarchy.”

“Right.” He nods easily, as if he’s agreeing with me, before tossing out words that sound exactly like the opposite. “So are you saying there’s no room for empathy in a society? No space for feelings or compassion?”

“I’m saying there have to be consequences!”

He leans back in his chair, hazel eyes practically crawling into mine now. “What about forgiveness?”

And there it is, the hitting of the nail on the head.

The point of this whole stupid debate of two.

Him pushing me before I’m fucking ready because he’s trying to finagle me into a situation of granting forgiveness that he doesn’t deserve.

“But.” he pauses. “You probably agree that the end justifies the means too, right?”

Him trying to start a fight so that he can get back under my skin, and fuck him for it all because…

“I don’t know.” I cross my arms again, cocking my head right back. “Why don’t you tell me? How were the means? Did they get you to that blissful end?”

Lisette sucks in an audible breath next to me even as someone else in the class chuckles. “Oh, shit.”

“Right, of course.” Hayes lifts a hand to his hair with a sharp puff of laughter. “How could I forget? It’s all about that for you, because as long as you reach your ends…” He drops the hand from his head. “Fuck all to everyone else—”

“Mr. Flynn!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“Ms. Fitzroy!”

“Because they’re supposed to just say thank you—”

“You’re supposed to accept the consequences!”

Fuck.

“Excuse me!”

Mrs. Long claps her hands, but it’s too late.

It’s already been said. I let the knife slip out into the world.

No take-backs.

And the twinkle that sparks deep in the still pissed gaze I’m staring into lets me know that my slip definitely hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Fuck.