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Back in class
Tanggal publikasi:
2026-05-18 13:30:51
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FROZEN LINES Missing pieces
CALEB I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the printout the hospital administrator had handed my mom. It listed my intake details from the night of the crash. Right there, under Emergency Contact, it didn't say Mom or Dad. It wasn't Miller, my hockey co-captain. It said Eliot Ward. " Why the hell was my English professor the first person the hospital called?" When I asked my parents, they just shrugged. They figured Professor Ward was my academic advisor, or maybe he just happened to be nearby when the ambulance arrived. But it didn't make sense. I’m a senior. I know who my advisor is, and it isn't the guy who teaches the Senior Seminar. Besides, Miller told me Ward stayed at the hospital until four in the morning. Professors don't do that.Not even for the star of the hockey team. I wanted to see his face when I thanked him. I wanted to see if he’d drop a hint about what I was missing. But he just stood there behind his desk. Now, sitting in his Monday morning class,
FROZEN LINES Back in class
ELIOT The light in my office was a bruised orange bleeding through the blinds and settling over the stacks of ungraded freshman composition essays. I was staring at a single sentence, but the words were ink-scrawls. My mind was still three miles away, in the sterile, white-tiled silence of St. Jude’s, replaying the moment Caleb Foster forgot who I was. The knock brought me back.Before I could find my voice, the door swung open. Caleb. "Professor Ward," he said. "Hope I’m not interrupting the scholarly grind." I just watched him, looking for a ghost of the man whom I had texted on Friday night about my screams bouncing off the walls. There was nothing. His eyes were bright, clear, and utterly devoid of history. "Mr. Foster," I managed, my voice a dry rattle. "You’re supposed to be on bed rest." "Doc says I’ve got a skull like a vault. A little concussion wasn’t going to keep me out of the game for long." He paused, his gaze dropping to the clutter on my desk before meeting
FROZEN LINES Reset
CALEB I read it twice. " The house is too quiet now. Maybe my screams are actually worth bouncing off these walls." " You want noise, Eliot? Use your words." " You left. That was noise enough." He wasn’t asking me back. He was mad I didn’t stay without being asked. " You said Monday. You said the house was quiet. Pick one." " Come back and I’ll tell you which." Monday was forty-eight hours away. He had a big house and no one in it. I had an empty passenger seat and his text burning a hole in my phone. --- It was a crisp Saturday morning, and the energy of the alumni game was starting to peak. By the second period, I felt a rare sense of momentum, gliding across the ice with the puck tucked securely against my blade. With three minutes left on the clock, I was leaning into a sprint, my eyes locked on the net and the finish line in sight. Then, the world simply tilted. A blindside hit caught me mid-stride. There was the jarring, unmistakable crack of my helmet meetin
FROZEN LINES Dinner
CALEB The room was silent, save for the erratic sound of our breathing.The wreckage of the last hour was scattered across the mattress—tangled sheets, Eliot’s discarded shirt hanging off the edge of the bed, and a heavy, lingering heat that made the air feel thick. I stayed slumped over him for a long minute, my forehead resting against his damp shoulder. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, a dull rhythm that matched the pulse I could feel in his neck. "You're remarkably quiet," I said. Eliot’s eyes fluttered open, dark and unfocused for a second before they locked onto mine. A slow, faint trace of a smile touched his mouth. "I think," he rasped, his voice breaking on the words, "I’ve run out of things to say, Caleb." I reached out, my thumb tracing the red mark on his collarbone. He shivered at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut again. "I like you better when you're not thinking about the next sentence." "This doesn't change tomorrow," he whispered, though th
FROZEN LINES Go out for dinner with me?
CALEB "You’re playing a dangerous game, Caleb," he breathed. "Discussing... starvation in a room full of witnesses? You were bold. " "I was honest," I said, closing the final inch between us. I rested my palms against the bookshelves on either side of his head, pinning him there. "You’re the one who asked the question. You wanted to know what happens when the ice breaks." I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. "It’s breaking, Eliot. Right now." His hand snapped up, his fingers threading into my hair just like I’d been picturing all through his lecture. "I should fail you," he whispered, his thumb dragging across my lower lip, pulling it down to reveal the teeth he’d felt against his skin in the dark. "I should kick you out of this office and never look at you again." "But you won't," I challenged, a slow smirk spreading across my face. "Because you're still hungry." He let out a low, wrecked sound and lunged forward, his mouth crashing into mine. The kiss b
FROZEN LINES Surrender
CALEB Professor Eliot is at the front of the room, leaning against his mahogany desk while he dissects some Romantic era poem about longing. His voice is smooth and perfectly controlled—the complete opposite of the wrecked, breathless sounds he was making in the backseat of my car seventy-two hours ago. I can’t stop looking at his hands.All I can see is those same long fingers knotted in my hair, anchoring me to him. I can still feel the weight of his body pressing me into the passenger seat and the sharp, desperate way he gasped my name. The air in the lecture hall feels too thin. Every time he paces towards my side of the room, the scent of his cologne hits me and my pulse spikes. Eliot pauses, his thumb tracing the edge of his book. He looks up, his gaze sweeping over the sea of students until it hits me. He knows exactly what I’m doing. He knows I haven't written down a single word of his lecture because I’m too busy replaying the feeling of his skin against mine. "Mr. F
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