Evan Cole woke up before his alarm.
The hostel room was quiet except for the steady hum of the ceiling fan. Pale morning light crept in through the half-open curtains, settling across the desk where books lay stacked with careful precision. Physics. Applied mathematics. A laptop is placed exactly parallel to the table edge. Evan liked order. Order meant predictability. Predictability meant safety.
He lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the building breathe. Doors are opening down the corridor. Someone is laughing too loudly. Footsteps rushing toward the staircase. Normal sounds. Familiar sounds.
His phone buzzed.
7:12 AM.
Evan frowned. His alarm was set for 7:30.
He reached over and silenced the screen, then sat up slowly. No headache. No lingering dream. Just a faint sense that he had woken up in the middle of a thought and lost it.
He dismissed it.
That was what Evan did best.
After a quick shower, he dressed neatly and checked his reflection. Dark hair still damp. Eyes clear. Expression neutral. He practised that expression without realising it. Neutral meant no one asked questions.
He grabbed his bag and stepped into the corridor.
The boys' hostel was already alive. Doors stood open. Music leaked from one room. Someone argued loudly over a forgotten assignment. Evan nodded to a few familiar faces and moved toward the stairs.
"Morning, Einstein."
Luke Reed leaned against the stair railing, coffee cup in hand, hair a mess, smile already in place.
"You look disappointed to see me," Luke said.
"I was hoping for silence," Evan replied.
Luke laughed. "That is never happening. You chose the wrong planet for that."
They fell into step together as they headed outside.
Luke talked. He always did. About a quiz he probably failed. About a senior who thought attendance was optional for geniuses only. About nothing and everything. Evan listened, responding when required, his attention drifting just enough to appear engaged.
Outside, the campus spread out under the morning sun. Northline University always looked its best early. Clean walkways. Trimmed grass. Buildings are still half asleep. By noon, it would be chaos.
They reached the canteen.
Marcus Hale and Noah Wright were already there.
Marcus sat straight, back against the chair, eating methodically. He looked like he belonged in a training hall, not a cafeteria. Noah sat opposite him, tablet open, fingers moving quickly as he scanned something on the screen.
"You're late," Noah said without looking up.
"Seven minutes not late," Evan replied.
"No," Noah said calmly. "Late relative to pattern."
Luke dropped into a chair. "This again."
Marcus glanced at Evan. "You okay?"
Evan paused. Just for a second.
"I'm fine," he replied.
Marcus studied him a moment longer, then nodded and returned to his food.
Emily Carter arrived a few minutes later.
She hesitated near the entrance, scanning the room, then smiled when she spotted them. She walked over, her steps light, backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Morning," she said.
"Saved a seat," Luke said, kicking the chair beside him.
Emily ignored it and sat next to Evan instead.
"Did you sleep?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," Evan replied.
She tilted her head slightly. "You sure?"
Evan met her eyes. There was concern there. Real concern. He looked away first.
"I'm sure," Evan said.
Emily did not push. She never did.
They talked about classes. About upcoming exams. About a professor who graded like he enjoyed disappointment. It was easy. Comfortable. Evan liked these moments. They required nothing from him beyond presence.
After breakfast, they split up for lectures.
Evan walked alone toward the science block. The path was familiar. Every crack in the pavement is known. Every shortcut measured.
A group of students crossed ahead of him. One stumbled. Evan's hand twitched instinctively, reaching out.
The student caught himself and laughed it off.
Evan stopped walking.
His hand was still raised.
He stared at it for a second, then slowly lowered it and continued.
In class, Evan answered questions when called on. Not eagerly. Not reluctantly. Precisely. The professor nodded approvingly. A few students glanced at him with envy or irritation.
Evan did not notice.
During a break, Noah slid into the seat beside him.
"You hesitated on question four," Noah said.
"I did not," Evan replied.
"You did," Noah replied. "Half a second."
Evan closed his notebook. "You time my pauses now?"
"No. I notice anomalies." Noah replied.
Evan gave a faint smile. "Find something better to analyse."
Noah studied him. "I am."
The bell rang.
That evening, Evan returned to his room. He studied. Ate quietly. Showered. Everything in its place. Everything accounted for.
As night settled in, he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling fan.
It turned slowly. Steadily.
Normal.
Evan closed his eyes.
And slept.
Somewhere deep inside his mind, something shifted. Not enough to wake him. Not enough to matter.