2. It's a Date

Loriah’s POV

Days flew by, each one blurring into the next, until I found myself standing on the auditorium's stage for rehearsal. Only our music class was supposed to be there. Professor Garcia had handed me a song about love and heartbreak, saying, “You have the kind of voice that bleeds when it sings about pain.”

I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I became the character, let the ache flow through me, let my voice carry the weight of longing. Professor Garcia accompanied me on the piano, his fingers pressing the keys like a heartbeat.

When the last note slipped from my throat, I opened my eyes—and froze.

The auditorium was packed. Professors, students, and people from the halls. And right in the center of them… Draco.

The applause roared. My face burned crimson. I wanted to crawl into the floor, but I reminded myself: if I wanted to chase my dream, I had to learn to stand tall in moments like this.

“Wonderful, Loriah,” Professor Garcia said warmly. "You will be the lead singer of our musical. Keep up the good work." I beamed.

"Thanks, Professor!"

One by one, people filed out. Greg lingered, hovering at the door.

“Loriah, are you coming?”

“You go ahead,” I told him. His frown said he didn’t like leaving me, but he eventually walked off. Only Draco remained.

He leaned against the stage, eyes fixed on me like I was the only person alive.

“You have a fantastic voice,” he said, low and deliberate.

“Thank you,” I managed, clutching my sheet music to my chest.

He tilted his head. “Come eat brunch with me. There’s a place near campus—decadent pancakes, but their menu’s wide if you don’t like sweets.”

I almost said yes. Almost. But my wallet was thin; I had barely scraped enough to pay rent. I couldn’t let him cover my meal. Not on our first outing.

“Maybe next time,” I lied. “I already promised Greg I’d eat with him.”

Something flickered in his expression. Disappointment, maybe.

I softened. “How about Friday?” I offered. I get paid Friday, I thought. Then I can pay for my meal.

His smile returned, sharp and knowing. “Friday, then.”

Before I could say more, a gaggle of girls burst through the doors. Cheerleaders. They latched onto him like magnets, one on each arm.

“Come on, Draco, the guys are waiting in the car. We’re eating at the bistro!”

He didn’t look the least bit flustered. If anything, he looked used to it. Calm, comfortable, even smug in the middle of their attention.

“Friday, then?” he asked again, his eyes locking on mine.

“I’ll let you know,” I said quickly, spinning on my heel before my jealousy betrayed me.

---

Draco wasn’t in any of my classes—he was a business major. But somehow, he was always there.

A single rose would appear on my desk before the morning lecture. I’d inhale its scent, smiling despite myself, before hiding it under the desk. My cheeks would flame as whistles and teasing erupted around me.

Claire, one of my classmates, saw through my deflections.

“Draco was here,” she teased one morning, smirking. “I saw him drop it off with my own eyes. The poor guy’s practically begging for your attention.”

I rolled the stem of the rose between my fingers, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I don’t know if I should say yes. He looks like… a player. And he’s out of my league.”

Claire snorted. “Do you own a mirror? Half the men here would sell their souls to get in your pants."

"Stop making me more self-conscious than I already am.”

Her eyes swept over me boldly. “If I had your curls, your boobs, and your ass, I’d rule this campus. Own it, girl.”

I shoved her shoulder, laughing nervously. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous—honest,” she countered, twirling her pen. “So? Are you going out with him?”

I hesitated, then whispered, “I told him Friday.”

Claire squealed. “Finally! I’ll help you get ready. We’re taming those curls and putting every girl on this campus to shame.”

Her confidence rattled me, but a small part of me thrilled at the thought.

Because tomorrow, I have a date with Draco. And my stomach was already a storm.