Seven

Eli

I survived my childhood because I learned how to see things before they actually happened. In the neighborhood where I grew up, you didn't just walk down the street with your head in the clouds.

So, after ten days at Blackridge University, my brain had already started filing away data. And the most glaring piece of data I had collected was about the Calloway twins.

They were never in the same place at the same time.

It sounds like a small thing, but at a school this size, in a program this intense, it was statistically impossible. I had been keeping a mental tally. Cain was in my seminar on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Cole was nowhere to be found. I’d see him in the library on Wednesdays, usually tucked into a corner like he was trying to merge with the shadows, but Cain was nowhere near him.

They didn't eat lunch together. They didn't walk to class together. They were like two ends of a magnet that refused to touch.

"Is it just me, or do the Calloway brothers have some kind of restraining order against each other?" I asked Petra.

We were sitting in the cafeteria, which was currently loud enough to give me a migraine. Petra was picking at a salad, but when I said the name Calloway, her fork stopped mid-air.

She didn't look up immediately. She got very quiet, which was weird because Petra usually had an opinion on everything from the weather to the quality of the cafeteria mystery meat.

"Why are you asking about them, Eli?" she asked. Her voice was low, cautious.

"Because I’m a student of physiology and logic," I said, leaning forward. "And logically, they should have run into each other at least once by now. They live in the same dorm wing. They take similar classes. But it’s like they have a schedule worked out to avoid any overlap. It’s weird."

Petra finally looked at me. She looked like she wanted to say something, then changed her mind, then changed it back. She pushed her salad bowl away.

"Look, Eli, you’re new here," she started. "And you’re... you’re not like the people who usually go to Blackridge. You actually care about your degree."

"That’s a nice way of saying I’m poor," I deadpanned.

"That's not what I meant," she sighed. "I mean you’re focused. But people like Cain and Cole? They don’t have to be focused. They have too much money and too much time. And when people like that get bored, they start playing games."

I frowned. "What kind of games?"

"I don't have the full story," Petra said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "Nobody does. But the rumor is they have a history. People call them 'pursuits.' It’s like they pick a target and see who can get to them first, or who can break them the fastest. It’s some messed up rich-kid hobby. I’ve heard things about girls leaving mid-semester, or guys losing their scholarships because they got caught up in whatever mess those two were making."

I felt a cold prickle at the back of my neck. "Is that why they stay apart? Because they're competing?"

"Maybe," Petra said. "Or maybe they just hate each other. Either way, my advice? Stay out of the splash zone. Cain seems like he’s being nice to you, especially with that study group thing, but just be careful. People like that don't do things for free."

I sat with that for a long time after she left. I thought about Cain’s face in the seminar room. I thought about the way he laughed when I made a joke about the renal system. It had felt real. But then again, a good actor makes everything feel real. That’s the whole point of the performance.

I decided right then and there that I was done. I couldn't afford to be a "pursuit." I had a future to build, and I wasn't going to let some bored billionaire’s son treat me like a level in a video game. I mapped out a plan in my head.

I would be professionally civil. I would answer questions in class. I would attend the seminar. But I would be unreachable. No more extra coffees. No more three-hour study sessions that felt way too comfortable. I would treat the twins like background noise. Just part of the scenery, like the statues in the quad.

For forty-eight hours, I was perfect.

I ignored Cain in the hallway. I gave him a short, polite nod when he tried to catch my eye in the library, and then I went right back to my book. I didn't smile. I didn't linger. I was a ghost. I felt good about it. I felt safe.

Then the rain started.

It wasn't just a drizzle. It was a torrential downpour that turned the campus into a scene from a horror movie. The sky was the color of a bruise, and the wind was screaming through the trees. I was standing under the small concrete overhang of my dorm, looking at my umbrella. It was one of those cheap ones I’d bought at a drug store, and the metal ribs were already bent out of shape. Every time I tried to open it, it just flopped over like a sad, wet bird.

"Come on, you piece of junk," I hissed, wrestling with the handle.

I was so focused on not getting soaked that I didn't hear the footsteps. I didn't realize someone was there until a shadow fell over me. I turned around, my shoulders already hiking up toward my ears, ready to snap at whoever was bothering me.

It was Cain.

He was a mess. He didn't have an umbrella, and his expensive wool coat was heavy with water. His hair, usually styled to look effortlessly perfect, was plastered to his forehead, dripping into his eyes. He looked like he’d walked a mile in the storm.

"You look like you're losing that fight," he said, nodding toward my broken umbrella.

"I have it under control," I said, my voice as cold as the rain. "What do you want, Cain?"

He didn't seem bothered by my tone. He didn't even try to step under the overhang to get out of the rain. He just stood there, getting wetter by the second. He reached into his coat and pulled something out. It was wrapped in a plastic bag to keep it dry.

"I was at that bookstore downtown," he said. He sounded almost breathless, like he’d been running. "The one with the rare editions in the back. I saw this and remembered you mentioning it."

He held it out. I didn't take it. I just stared at his hand.

"Mentioned what?" I asked.

"The book, Eli. The one about the history of surgical ethics you said you couldn't find in the university library. You mentioned it like two weeks ago when we were walking out of the seminar."

I blinked. I had mentioned that book once. It was a throwaway comment, a tiny detail in a longer conversation. I hadn't even expected him to be listening, let alone remember the title.

"I picked up an extra copy," Cain said. He shrugged, but his eyes were locked on mine. "Figured you might want it. Since you're so obsessed with being the top of the class and all."

"You went all the way downtown in this weather to buy me a book?" I asked. My plan of being "professionally civil" was currently dissolving.

"I was already there," he lied. I knew he was lying. Nobody goes to that part of town just to hang out in a storm. "Just take it, Eli. It’s getting wet."

Every instinct in my body was screaming at me. *Don't take it. It's a hook. He’s reeling you in. Remember what Petra said.* My brain was telling me to walk away, to let him stand there with his plastic-wrapped offering.

But my hands had a mind of their own. I reached out and took the book. Our fingers brushed for a split second, and even through the cold rain, his skin felt like a live wire. I pulled back instantly, clutching the book to my chest.

"Thanks," I muttered. "I’ll pay you back for it."

"Don't worry about it," Cain said. He actually looked relieved. He wiped a hand across his face to clear the water from his eyes. He looked infuriatingly beautiful, even when he looked like a drowned rat. "I’ll see you in class, Eli."

He turned and walked away into the rain. He didn't even run. He just walked at a normal pace, like he didn't care that he was freezing. I watched him until he disappeared around the corner of the science building.

I went up to my room and slammed the door. I was angry. I was furious with myself. I threw the book onto my desk like it was a live grenade.

"Idiot," I told my reflection in the mirror. "You’re such an idiot."

I sat on my bed and tried to study, but I couldn't focus. My eyes kept drifting back to the desk. The book was sitting there, still in its plastic bag. I told myself I wouldn't open it. I told myself I’d return it to him tomorrow and tell him I didn't need it. I managed to hold out until midnight.

But the curiosity was a physical itch. At 12:05, I finally gave in. I got up, pulled the book out of the bag, and sat back down.

It was exactly the edition I had been looking for. It was out of print, hard to find, and probably cost more than I spent on groceries in a month. I opened the front cover, half-expecting to see a smug note written inside, but there was nothing. Just the smell of old paper and ink.

I started reading, just to see if the first chapter was actually as good as the reviews said. By 1:00 AM, I was halfway through the second chapter.

I hated that the book was good. I hated that it was exactly what I wanted. But mostly, I hated that Cain knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't be able to turn it down. He hadn't bought me flowers or something stupid and cliché. He had bought me knowledge. He had bought me a tool.

He was playing the game better than I was.

I closed the book and stared at the ceiling. My heart was doing that weird, uneven thumping thing again. I thought about Cain standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, just to hand me a paperback. Was that part of the "pursuit"? Was the goal to make me feel like I owed him something? Or was he just... like that?

I didn't have an answer. All I knew was that my walls were starting to crack, and I was the one who had handed him the hammer. I turned off the lamp, but even in the dark, I could still see the shape of the book on my desk.

It was going to be a long semester.