You spend half your morning pretending you're not avoiding Jasper. You let Dakota pull you into a debate about the new mural proposal, help Hannah hunt for her lost notebook, and spend lunch with Priya splitting fries while she vents about her thesis. For a while, the distraction works. The ache in your chest nearly fades.
But you can't dodge Jasper forever.
He finds you after art history, wedging himself between you and the stairwell wall. "You've been MIA," he says, smiling like nothing's wrong. "Busy day?"
You force a laugh, clutching your sketchbook. "Just a lot going on."
He eyes your schedule, then tilts his head. "We should grab dinner tonight. Just us."
You nod, too tired to argue. "Okay."
Dinner is quiet at first, the hum of the campus café giving cover for the silence. Jasper keeps the conversation mild: his professor's grading style, your latest assignment, the weather. You begin to think maybe he's let yesterday go.
But halfway through your salad, he leans in, voice lowered. "Where'd you go after class?"
You push a tomato around your plate. "Just walked. I needed air."
He studies your face, not buying it. "Dakota said she saw you with Beckett by the track earlier."
You freeze, shoulders tense. "He was passing by. We talked about scouts. Nothing big."
Jasper sets his fork down. His smile slips. "You know how that looks, right?"
You bristle. "How what looks?"
"All this running to Beckett every time things get hard." He shakes his head. "It's not healthy to mix friend and boyfriend lines like you do."
You sink deeper into your seat, words sticking in your chest.
He reaches for your hand, squeezing tightly. "I just want you to understand...stuff like that isn't how relationships work. He's always there for you. But that's not normal. At some point, you'll have to choose whose side you're really on."
You nod, unable to look at him, and pick at your food until the silence is too heavy.
After dinner, you head straight to the dorm, slipping past the crowd and up to your room. Beckett texts:
Beckett: Game night downstairs. You in?
You hesitate.
You: Can't tonight. Homework.
You close your phone, not trusting yourself to say more. Jasper's words echo in your mind, and you almost believe them.
Dakota comes in half an hour later, hair tied up and headphones hanging around her neck. She doesn't bother with questions, just throws herself across your bed and opens a bag of chips.
"You ignoring everyone or just special folks tonight?" she says around a mouthful.
You smile weakly, curling up with your knees under your chin. "Just tired."
She shrugs. "Beckett looks like a lost puppy downstairs. You wanna talk about it?"
You shake your head. "Not yet."
"You know you can text or wake me anytime," she says, her voice softer now. "Even if it's 3am and you're dyeing your hair blue again."
You laugh. The ache loosens a fraction.
When Dakota leaves, you stare at the ceiling for a long time, counting cracks and wondering how long you can stand on thin ice before something gives way.
Your phone buzzes again. Jasper, checking in.
Jasper: Let me know when you're ready to talk. I miss you.
You close your eyes and let the world slip out of focus, wishing someone else could tell you what you're supposed to feel.
On Saturday, you do your best to avoid everyone. You stay in your dorm, tucked underneath your blanket.
You try to get up and paint, but your inspiration is gone. You stare at the empty canvas and then crawl back into bed.
By mid-day, Beckett knocks, opening the door halfway and poking his head inside. "Hey, you." He steps all the way in when he sees you in bed. You sit up, running a hand through your hair.
"I'm being a hermit today." You say, attempting a smile.
He sits down on the bed beside you. "I can tell. That's not you."
You shrug. "Maybe I'm tired of being me."
He pauses, looking at you for a long time. "But you are incredible." He says simply.
You sigh, looking down at your lap. "I wish I knew what I was supposed to do."
He nods. "Only you know."
You're about to respond when Jasper opens the door, taking in the scene: You with bed head. Beckett sitting on the bed beside you.
He laughs once and nods, like he just found out the answer to the world's secrets. "I see why you've been avoiding me."
You shake your head and Beckett stands up. "We were just talking, Jasper." He says, holding his hands up.
Jasper's eyes snap over to Beckett. "This isn't any of your concern, Football. You can leave."
You stand up from the bed, walking over to Jasper. "Stop, Jasper. You're not seeing this clearly."
He steps back once. "I see it crystal clear, Maren. He will always come first, right?"
You shake your head, tears pricking your eyes.
Beckett looks at you, waiting on your word. "Go." You mouth the words to him.
He glances over at Jasper once, then back at you. He nods once. "Alright, man. I'm gone." He says, backing out of the dorm room and heading down the stairs.
Jasper closes the door behind him, turning to you. "So you ignore your boyfriend to play house with that guy?"
You shake your head. "It's not even like that, Jasper. I told you. He's my best friend. I'm allowed to be friends with people."
Jasper points toward the door. "Not him!" He says, venom spilling from his tone. "If you want any chance of anyone loving you, Maren, you have to drop this guy."
You recoil, the words hitting hard in your chest. "Jasper.. That's not fair.."
He laughs, pointing his finger at you as he steps closer. "What's not fair is the fact that I have to watch my girlfriend cozy up to some other guy and I'm just expected to be okay with it!"
You take a deep breath and shake your head. "It's not even like that with him. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that."
Jasper shakes his head, reaching for your hand. He sighs softly. "Maren, I'm sorry." He says, voice softening. "I'm just..scared to lose you."
You take in a breath, stepping into his arms. He wraps them around you, holding you close. "I just want you to trust me." You say softly against his chest.
He kisses the top of your head. "I do trust you. It's everyone else I don't trust."
You look up at him, heart wrenching at the sight of him. "Just trust me, then. You don't have to trust everyone else."
He nods, kissing your forehead, then your lips. "You're amazing, you know that?"
You chuckle, shaking your head.
He smiles down at you. "I have to go. But text me later?"
You nod and he leans down to kiss you once more before leaving.
You take out your phone once he leaves and see a text from Beckett:
Beckett: Sorry for causing any issues.
You sigh and type back.
You: No issues. All good. Sleep well, Beck.
He texts back almost immediately.
Beckett: You too, Mare.
You curl up in bed and close your eyes, letting sleep take you under.
In the morning, you wake to Dakota throwing a pillow at you.
"Your phone is going crazy." She says, throwing the blanket back over her face.
You sit up and grab your phone, scrolling through the notifications.
You squint at your phone, blinking sleep from your eyes. Notifications crowd the screen: a missed call from Jasper, two from your mom, and a string of unread group texts.
Hannah:Late brunch? Purple pancakes to match Maren's hair?
Priya: We promise no drama. Just carbs.
Beckett: No pressure, but I'll save you a seat if you want to join. Let me know, okay?
You hesitate, typing and deleting replies. The thought of seeing everyone, of trying to plaster on a real smile, makes your stomach knot. You lock your phone and toss it onto your desk. Maybe you'll answer later. Maybe they'll stop asking.
Dakota cracks her eyes open, arm tossed over her head. "You ignoring the world again, or just Jasper?"
You glare at her through a puffy pillow and sigh. "Both."
She props herself up, watching you for a long moment. "You can't stay invisible forever, Maren. Even Anna from down the hall noticed you skipped game night. You're, like, the heartbeat of this place." Her voice sounds gentle, but it only makes you shrink deeper under the covers.
"I just…need space. From everyone. Everything. Is that so wrong?"
Dakota sits up, running a hand through her frizzy ponytail. "No. But you know as well as I do that you're not yourself when you pull away like this. Not for long, anyway."
You stare at the wall. "I don't know who 'myself' is supposed to be right now."
She sighs, rolling out of bed. "Fair. Just don't let anyone decide that for you, okay?"
You nod, a weak gesture at best, and watch her gather her things for her morning run.
As the door clicks shut, you roll onto your back, tracing the patterns on your ceiling with your eyes, willing your nerves to settle, your mind to quiet. There's safety in this small cocoon, but also a loneliness you can't shake. You wonder if you'll have the courage to sit with your friends again, or if this time, thin ice will crack right under your feet.
Your phone vibrates in your hand again.
Jasper: Can I see you later? Miss your face.
You stare at the screen but don't answer.
Another message comes, this time from Beckett.
Beckett: Hope today's easier. Door's open if you wanna talk or just sit. No questions.
You let your phone rest on your stomach, eyes misting. For the first time in days, the ache in your chest is mixed with something else, a tiny flutter of hope.
You breathe in deep, the violet strands of your hair falling over your pillow, and, for just a minute, you let yourself imagine a different answer to all these questions.
You sit on the edge of your bed for a long time, turning your phone over and over in your hands. The thought of being alone another day makes your chest feel small, so finally, you force yourself up, throw on a sweatshirt, and head for the campus café.
Brunch is rowdy, the booth packed with Hannah, Priya, Dakota, and Beckett, all moving plates and exchanging stories. Hannah waves a fork in your direction and grins. "She lives!" Priya makes room beside her, and Dakota slides a mug of cocoa your way before you can protest.
It's almost easy to fall back into the rhythm: Hannah telling a joke, Beckett making bets about how much syrup Priya can pour before the pancakes disintegrate. Beckett glances over at you more than once, offering that soft, steady smile if your gaze lingers, and for a moment, some of the weight you've been carrying lifts.
But Jasper's texts keep stacking up, one after the other, buzzing in your pocket like a heartbeat you can't ignore:
Jasper: Where are you?
Jasper: Are you with Beckett again?
Jasper: Can you answer me?
Jasper: I just want to talk. Please tell me what's going on.
You try to ignore them, pressing your phone facedown on the table, but you can't help but check every time it vibrates. Your attention drifts, laughter feeling hollow. Priya asks you about your next art project and you only half hear her.
Beckett nudges your knee, tilts his head. "You good?"
You nod, but can't hold his gaze.
The third time your phone buzzes, another message from Jasper, longer this time, words piling on worry and guilt, you can't take it. You excuse yourself for a refill, but when you reach the counter, you just keep walking.
Outside, the cold air bites. You lean back against the brick wall, hand shaking as you scroll through Jasper's texts. Each message presses harder, until you finally type a quick reply:
You: At brunch. I'll talk to you later.
You start to head back inside, but the relief at escaping is stronger than the urge to return. Instead, you turn toward your dorm, the laughter and warmth of your friends fading behind you. You tell yourself you're just tired; that it's easier this way. But deep down, you recognize the thin ice beneath your feet, cracking a little more with every step.
You're back in your room before you realize how far you've walked, the brunch already blurring in your memory. You drop your phone on your desk and stand by the window, staring out at the campus below. The room feels too quiet, your thoughts closing in, Jasper's texts flashing silently.
You're so lost in the silence that you barely hear the knock at your door. When you open it, Beckett stands there, hands in his jacket pockets, eyes squinting against the sun.
"Figured you'd need someone to walk you home, or at least steal your leftovers," he jokes, holding up a bag with a half-eaten pancake inside.
You manage a smile, letting him in. "That's a new record. Two hours and you already tracked me down."
He shrugs, placing the bag on your desk. "You left, and everything just felt off."
You sit on the edge of your bed, running your thumb over the seam of your jeans. Beckett sits beside you, not too close, just close enough.
He glances at your phone, then looks at you, reading the tension in your face. "Jasper again?"
You nod, jaw tight. "He doesn't understand. Or maybe he does and just doesn't care."
Beckett is quiet for a beat. "You don't have to answer every text, you know."
You stare at your hands, wishing you could believe that. "I know. It's just… hard not to feel guilty."
Beckett leans back, stretching his legs out. "You don't owe him every minute of your day. You never did."
Your heart aches at that, at the uncomfortable reminder. "It wasn't always like this."
Beckett gives you a long, patient look. "I know. But it is now, and I just… I want you to remember that you get to choose. Not him. Not me. You."
You nod, eyes stinging. Beckett bumps your shoulder, easy and grounding.
"Campus is still out there, Mare. Your friends, too. We're all waiting, whenever you want."
You smile, a little less strained than before. "Thanks, Beck."
He grins, softer now. "Anytime. And for the record, you'd look badass with blue hair."
You laugh, and for a moment, some of the ice inside you cracks and lets a little light through. Beckett stays with you for a while, talking about nothing, just company, no pressure, no expectations, until you almost feel like you are yourself again.