Chapter 5

Alicia’s POV

The heavy doors of the lecture hall swung open and the flood of students poured out like water breaking from a dam. I stepped into the corridor last, blinking against the brighter hallway lights after two hours under the fluorescents. My hand still ached from gripping the pen, but the weight in my chest had lifted a little. I was almost done, I had just one more exam behind me.

Mirabel was already waiting near the water fountain, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, scrolling through her phone. When she saw me, her face lit up.

“Survived?” she called, pushing off the wall.

I nodded, managing a tired smile. “Survived. You?”

“Barely. But it’s over.” She fell into step beside me as we walked toward the exit. “How’d it feel? Was it easy? Brutal?”

“Somewhere in the middle. Not impossible, but definitely not a gift.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness. “Yours?”

“Same. I think I got most of it, though. Fingers crossed.” She bumped my arm lightly. “We’re almost done now. Two days until we’re on the way for the holiday. I can already taste Dad’s chef’s cinnamon rolls.”

I laughed softly. “You’ve been talking about those rolls since October.”

“Because they’re legendary. You’ll see.” She glanced sideways at me. “You packed yet?”

“Almost. I just need to throw in the last few things tonight. You?”

“Totally done, my suitcase is sitting by the door like it’s ready to run away without me.” She grinned. “I’m so ready to get out of here. No more early mornings, no more group projects, no more pretending I understand half the readings.”

“Same. I just want to sleep for a week.”

“And read. And eat. And float in the pool if the weather cooperates.”

We stepped outside into the crisp afternoon air. The environment was busy as usual—with students sprawled on the grass, music playing from a portable speaker somewhere, laughter echoing off the brick buildings. Autumn leaves skittered across the path in little spirals. Everything felt lighter out here, like the exam stress had stayed trapped inside the hall.

We found our usual bench under the big maple tree and dropped onto it. I stretched my legs out, tipped my head back to catch the sun on my face.

“Feels good,” I murmured.

“Feels like the start of something better, but we need to remember that we have one more paper left,” Mirabel said. “Then we’ll have two whole weeks of nothing we have to do. Just… existing. And the chef’s cooking. And probably too many Christmas movies.”

I smiled, eyes still closed. “I could use some of that.”

We sat in easy silence for a minute, just breathing in the freedom. Then I felt the shift—the way the air changed when someone approached.

I opened my eyes, and saw Chris.

He was walking straight toward us, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, that same easy smile already fixed in place. Like he’d timed this perfectly.

Mirabel stiffened beside me. “Here we go.”

He stopped a few feet away, nodding at both of us. “Hey. Good to see you guys.”

“Chris,” I said, keeping my tone even.

Mirabel gave a short “Hi” that sounded more like a warning.

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing between us. “Exam go okay?”

“Fine,” I answered. “Yours?”

“Yeah. Solid. Listen…” He shifted his weight, eyes settling on me. “I know I’ve been… persistent. And I get that you’ve said no before, multiple times. But I’m leaving for break tomorrow too, and I just… I’d really like to see you one time before we both head out. Just once. Coffee. Or a walk. Whatever you’re okay with. No pressure after that. I swear.”

Mirabel opened her mouth, ready to fire, but I touched her knee lightly. She snapped it shut, but her glare stayed locked on him.

I looked at Chris. The hopeful tilt of his head, the way he was trying to look harmless, the faint flush on his cheeks like he knew he was pushing his luck again.

I should’ve said no. Firm. Final. Like every other time.

But the words didn’t come.

Maybe it was the post-exam haze—brain still foggy, defenses down. Maybe it was the quiet dread of the holiday ahead, of spending two weeks in someone else’s house, and the excitement of being around people, under the same roof.

One coffee. One hour. Then he’d back off. Done.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

Chris blinked, like he hadn’t expected it. “Really?”

“Yeah, just once. Coffee. Tomorrow after my last paper. That’s it.”

His face broke into a relieved, almost boyish grin. “Great. Thank you. I’ll text you the spot—there’s that place by the library with the good lattes. I’ll be there.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He glanced at Mirabel again—quick, almost sheepish—then backed up a step. “See you tomorrow, Alicia. Thanks again.”

He turned and walked away, his shoulders lighter, and stride easier.

Mirabel stared after him, then whipped her head toward me.

“Are you actually serious right now?”

I exhaled, rubbing my face with both hands. “I don’t know. I just… want it over. One coffee. He gets his chance, I say no again if I need to, and he finally leaves me alone.”

She studied me for a long beat. “You sure? Because if he’s even a little weird tomorrow, I’m showing up with backup. And I will not be polite.”

I gave a small, tired laugh. “Noted.”

We sat there a while longer, watching the leaves fall, the sun dipping lower. And, students and lecturers just doing their usual work around the halls.

I told myself it was nothing. Just coffee. Just closure before the holiday.

“I hope he doesn’t try anything stupid.”