Group Assignments and Other Mistakes

Eli Carter hated group projects.

Not because he didn’t work well with others. He did. Too well, actually. He liked control. Schedules. Knowing exactly what was expected of him and meeting it without room for error. Group projects meant variables. People who didn’t pull their weight. People who talked too much or cared too little.

People he couldn’t predict.

So when the professor cleared his throat and said, “This semester-long project will be completed in pairs,” Eli already felt his jaw tighten.

He sat in the second row, notebook open, pen aligned perfectly along the margin. Around him, chairs scraped the floor as students leaned toward friends, whispering names, forming alliances.

Then the list went up on the screen.

Eli scanned for his name.

Carter, Elijah — Reyes, Noah

He blinked once. Then again.

Noah Reyes.

Of course.

Noah sat three rows behind him, slightly to the left. Eli didn’t need to turn around to know what he looked like. He never did. Somehow, he always knew when Noah was nearby, like a shift in the room’s gravity.

They weren’t friends. Not really.

They’d exchanged polite conversation before. Shared notes once. Worked near each other in the library. Noah had an easy way of existing, like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone but still managed to stand out.

Eli told himself he didn’t think about him.

He felt it now, though. That awareness. That uncomfortable tightening in his chest as the professor continued talking, explaining deadlines and expectations Eli already understood.

When class ended, Eli packed his bag quickly. If he left fast enough, maybe—

“Hey. Eli, right?”

The voice was calm. Warm. Too close.

Eli turned.

Noah stood there with his backpack slung over one shoulder, curls slightly messy like he hadn’t bothered fixing them. He smiled. Not wide. Not forced. Just enough.

“Looks like we’re stuck together,” Noah said.

Stuck.

The word landed heavier than it should have.

“Yeah,” Eli replied, too quickly. “I mean, yeah. We should probably exchange numbers.”

Noah nodded, pulling out his phone. Their fingers brushed briefly as Eli typed his contact in.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

It did.

Eli stepped back immediately, heart doing something stupid and fast. He hated that reaction. Hated how his body responded before his brain could catch up.

They talked logistics. Meeting times. Preferred study spots. Noah suggested the library café. Eli agreed because saying no felt like effort.

As they walked out together, Eli noticed something else he didn’t like.

The way walking beside Noah felt easy.

Too easy.

 

 

The first study session happened two days later.

Eli arrived early, as always. He laid out his materials, color-coded tabs marking different sections of the project. He told himself he was just being efficient.

Noah showed up ten minutes late, slightly out of breath.

“Sorry,” he said. “Lost track of time.”

Eli nodded, even though something sharp twisted in his chest. He didn’t know why it bothered him.

They worked quietly at first. Noah was focused, sharp in a way Eli hadn’t expected. He asked thoughtful questions. Listened. Didn’t interrupt.

Hours passed without Eli noticing.

At some point, Noah laughed softly at something Eli said, and Eli froze.

It wasn’t the laugh itself.

It was the fact that Eli wanted to hear it again.

He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. This was nothing. Just appreciation. People liked being liked. That was normal.

Right?

When they packed up to leave, Noah hesitated. “Same time tomorrow?”

Eli opened his mouth to say no. To put space between whatever this was becoming.

“Yeah,” he said instead.

 

 

That night, Eli lay awake staring at his ceiling.

His thoughts kept circling back to Noah. The way he leaned in when he listened. The way he said Eli’s name like it mattered.

Eli turned onto his side, frustrated.

This was ridiculous.

He’d had crushes before. Girls. He knew what that felt like. This wasn’t that.

This was just admiration. Comfort. Something harmless.

Still, when he imagined Noah choosing a different partner, sitting close to someone else, laughing like that,

Eli’s chest ached.

He pressed his palm against it, breathing slowly.

“Get it together,” he whispered to the dark.

Because whatever this feeling was,

it wasn’t in the syllabus.

And Eli had no idea how to study for it.