Chapter 1 : part B Enemies, secrets and the spark neither of them saw coming

Ryan didn’t sleep well.

He tossed. Turned. Woke up sweating once. Checked his phone even though he swore he wouldn’t. Nothing from Jake, thankfully but the last message still sat there like it had teeth. Just waiting.

He blocked the number this time.

Chris was already out when Ryan got up, and that was fine by him. He needed quiet. Time to reset. Maybe find a coffee shop off campus and pretend he wasn’t already spiraling after a single day.

But instead of doing that, he ended up at the library. Because apparently, Ryan Carter liked to suffer in silence surrounded by books he’d never read.

He found a secluded corner on the third floor, tucked near a row of frosted glass windows and a view of the football field far in the distance. No one else was around. Just him, his earbuds, and a psychology textbook he didn’t care about.

Ten minutes later, Daniel Brooks walked in like fate was some kind of sick comedian.

Ryan didn’t see him at first. He only caught the sound of footsteps the slow, deliberate kind that announced confidence without apology. Then that same Arkwood hoodie passed into his peripheral vision.

Ryan didn’t move. Maybe if he stayed still long enough, Daniel would just go away.

He didn’t.

Instead, Daniel stopped directly across from him, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed like Ryan had just offended the laws of physics by existing.

“I figured you’d skip orientation,” Daniel said dryly.

Ryan looked up, unimpressed. “I figured you’d be too busy terrorizing freshmen to notice.”

Daniel gave a tight, humorless smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ryan removed one earbud. “Then what do you want?”

“Your file,” Daniel replied, like that was a normal thing to say.

“…My what?”

“Mentorship file. I’m supposed to check in on how you’re adjusting. Study plans. Course load. Campus resources. It’s part of the job.” Daniel pulled out a small black notebook from his backpack and held it like a weapon. “I take it seriously.”

Ryan arched a brow. “Because you’re just that dedicated to torturing transfers?”

Because if you tank your first month, it reflects on me,” Daniel said coolly. “And I don’t like failure. Especially not the loud, sarcast 

The worst part about Daniel Brooks wasn’t his attitude.

It wasn’t even the smug tone he used when he said things like, “It reflects on me.”

No.

The worst part was that he was smart.

Dangerously smart. The kind who didn’t need to yell to make you feel stupid just a raised eyebrow and a well-timed pause.

Ryan realized that about five minutes into their “mentorship meeting,” which took place at a corner table in the library. Daniel opened a slim black notebook, clicked a pen like he was about to interrogate a witness, and started asking questions like he wasn’t the same guy who had tried to shoulder-check him into the pavement 24 hours ago.

“Why did you transfer?” Daniel asked, eyes on the page.

Ryan stared at him. “Seriously?”

Daniel looked up, unimpressed. “If you expect to pass here, you’re going to have to learn how to answer questions.”

Ryan clenched his jaw. “Personal reasons.”

“Everything’s personal. Be specific.”

“Wow. Is this how you make friends?”

“I’m not here to be your friend.”

Ryan sat back. “Yeah. That came across loud and clear.”

Daniel sighed, not irritated exactly more like tired of wasting time. “Look. I don’t care about your drama. But I’ve mentored three transfers before you, and none of them lasted a full semester. You want to stay here, Carter? Then stop wasting my time and give me something I can work with.”

Ryan didn’t reply right away. He stared down at his own fingers, noticed the faint white scar across his knuckle from where Jake once slammed a door while he was reaching for it. Too long ago to be an accident. Too recent to forget.

“I just needed a reset,” he said quietly. “New environment. New people. That’s all.”

Daniel scribbled something down. “Fine. Reset it is.”

They went through class schedules next.

Daniel asked questions like a professor preparing for a debate team: “Why Psych 201 if you already passed Intro? What’s your plan for major declaration? Do you have any idea what Arkwood’s capstone requirement looks like?”

Ryan gave half-answers. Shrugs. One-word responses.

Daniel rolled his eyes more than once. Ryan did too. At one point, he was sure Daniel was about to throw the notebook at his head. At another, he nearly walked out.

But he didn’t.

Because underneath the irritation, there was something else. A strange rhythm forming between them  fast-paced, biting, and uncomfortably magnetic.

Daniel challenged him, but never in a way that felt like bullying. It was more like… testing. Like he was waiting to see if Ryan would break or bite back.

He bit back. Every time.

After an hour, Daniel finally snapped the notebook shut.

“Alright,” he said, standing. “You’re not a complete disaster. Just about 70%.”

Ryan smirked. “Wow. I’m touched.”

“You should be.” Daniel slung his bag over one shoulder. “I’ll see you at the transfer mixer tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t planning to go.”

“You are now.”

“I don’t take orders.”

Daniel leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You will if you want to survive here.”

It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t even cruel. It was a fact.

Ryan hated how much sense it made.

That night, he stared at the invitation on his desk.

TRANSFER STUDENT MIXER: Friday Night, 7 PM, Event Hall C

Mandatory attendance “strongly encouraged.” Which basically meant show up or disappear.

Chris popped his head into the room while Ryan was still staring at it.

“You going?” Chris asked.

Ryan shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”

Chris snorted. “Not really. Brooks is on the events committee. If you don’t show, he’ll probably call security.”

Ryan raised a brow. “Does he actually do that?”

“No. But he’d make sure everyone else knows you flaked.”

Ryan sighed and grabbed a clean hoodie. “Fine. But I’m not staying long.”

The mixer was better than expected.

Not good. Just… less painful.

It was hosted in one of the big multi-purpose rooms in the student union  lots of lights, music that wasn’t too loud, and catered snacks that were suspiciously decent. Ryan stuck near the edges of the room, sipping from a paper cup and pretending to read a poster about internship deadlines.

He saw Daniel across the room surrounded by committee members, talking to two professors, then a third-year student who looked at him like he’d hung the moon.

Ryan tried not to notice how clean Daniel looked in a navy-blue button-up with the sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms.

Tried not to notice. Failed.

He turned away quickly, right into someone else.

“Ryan?”

The voice made his blood freeze.

He turned.

And there stood Jake Miller.

Smiling. Too wide. Too casual. Like they’d just bumped into each other at a coffee shop instead of across the emotional landmine Ryan had carefully buried.

“…What the hell are you doing here?” Ryan asked, low.

Jake looked around innocently. “What? I transferred too. Didn’t you hear?”

No. He hadn’t. And that fact punched the air right out of Ryan’s lungs.

Jake stepped closer. “I told you, babe. You don’t get to run from me.”

“I’m not your” Ryan stopped himself. Swallowed the rest. “Stay away from me, Jake.”

“I came to talk,” Jake said, voice softer now. “That’s all.”

“No. You came to follow me.”

“I came because I care.”

“You don’t get to say that anymore.”

Jake’s eyes darkened, but he caught himself. Took a step back, hands up like he wasn’t a threat.

But he was.

And Ryan’s hands were shaking.

Then, out of nowhere, Daniel appeared.

He slid in between them like a shadow. Calm, unreadable.

“Problem?” Daniel asked Jake, voice perfectly polite.

Jake stared. “Who are you?”

“Someone who sees a no as a no,” Daniel said.

Jake’s mouth twitched. “I’m talking to my boyfriend.”

Ryan cut in sharply. “Ex. We’re done.”

Daniel nodded slowly. “Then you’ve got no reason to be here.”

Jake looked like he wanted to argue, but something about Daniel’s stance relaxed but coiled, like he’d throw Jake through a wall without breaking a sweat made him pause.

“…This isn’t over,” Jake said, before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Daniel turned to Ryan. “You good?”

Ryan nodded shakily. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Daniel hesitated, then said quietly, “If he bothers you again, you tell me. Don’t wait.”

Ryan swallowed. “Why do you care?”

Daniel didn’t answer right away. “Because some people need a warning.”

Then he walked away, calm as ever, leaving Ryan with a heart pounding louder than the music.

That night, Ryan didn’t sleep much either.

But for the first time since arriving, it wasn’t fear keeping him awake.

It was curiosity.

And Daniel Brooks.