CHAPTER SEVENTEEN : UNCOMPLICATED

The bookstore smelled like paper, dust, and coffee.

Alora loved it.

Most days.

Today she was tired.

Her shift had started almost two hours ago, and she was currently crouched on the floor trying to organize a shelf someone had completely destroyed.

She was halfway through alphabetizing a row of medical textbooks when a familiar voice spoke above her.

“That looks painful.”

Alora looked up.

Daniel.

Of course.

He stood at the end of the aisle holding two books and wearing that annoyingly relaxed smile.

Alora groaned.

“You followed me.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

“I came here voluntarily.”

“You don’t even read.”

Daniel looked offended.

“I read.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

She pointed at the books in his hands.

“What are those?”

Daniel looked down.

Then looked back up.

Then sighed.

“Fine.”

Alora burst out laughing.

“I knew it.”

“They were near the entrance.”

“You picked random books.”

“I panicked.”

“You panicked?”

“There was pressure.”

“There was literally no pressure.”

“There was bookstore pressure.”

Alora laughed harder.

Several customers turned to look.

Daniel didn’t seem to care.

That was another thing about him.

He never seemed embarrassed by himself.

Most people spent so much energy trying to look cool.

Daniel never bothered.

Which somehow made him cooler.

Unfortunately.

“You are ridiculous.”

“I’ve been told.”

“Frequently.”

“By you mostly.”

She shook her head.

Daniel crouched beside her.

“Need help?”

“No.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“It sounded like one.”

“It wasn’t.”

Before she could stop him, he grabbed a stack of books.

Alora sighed dramatically.

“You know you’re not getting paid for this.”

“I know.”

“You could be doing literally anything else.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

Daniel paused.

Only for a second.

Then shrugged.

“I was bored.”

The answer felt suspicious.

But before she could question it, he had already started helping.

And annoyingly…

He was actually useful.

An hour later the shelf was finished.

The store was quieter.

The evening crowd hadn’t arrived yet.

And somehow Daniel was still there.

He’d helped customers find books.

Carried boxes.

Even fixed a display that had nearly fallen over.

The manager already loved him.

Traitor.

Alora sat behind the counter sipping coffee.

Daniel leaned against the register.

“You look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted.”

“When did you last sleep?”

“Sleep is a social construct.”

Daniel stared.

“That’s concerning.”

“It’s medical school.”

“That’s more concerning.”

She laughed.

Then sighed.

For a moment she looked genuinely worn out.

Daniel noticed.

Because he always noticed.

“You okay?”

The question was simple.

But it landed differently.

Alora hesitated.

She wasn’t even sure why.

Maybe because Daniel always sounded like he actually wanted the answer.

Not out of politeness.

Not out of obligation.

Because he cared.

Which was dangerous.

She stared down at her coffee.

“Just tired.”

Daniel didn’t push.

That was another thing.

He knew when to stop.

Most people kept digging.

Daniel simply nodded.

“Okay.”

And somehow that made her want to tell him more.

Strange.

Very strange.

A customer approached.

The conversation ended.

Work continued.

The evening passed.

Eventually her shift ended.

By then it was dark outside.

Alora grabbed her bag.

Daniel stood up immediately.

She narrowed her eyes.

“No.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to walk me home.”

Daniel blinked.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You absolutely were.”

Daniel sighed.

“Fine.”

“I knew it.”

“You keep ruining my dramatic reveals.”

Alora rolled her eyes.

Together they stepped outside.

The night air was cool.

Campus lights glowed in the distance.

Students crossed sidewalks.

Cars moved slowly through the streets.

For a while neither spoke.

The silence wasn’t awkward.

Just comfortable.

Which was becoming a problem.

Because comfort turned into attachment.

And attachment turned into things she didn’t want to think about.

“So.”

Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets.

“So?”

“What’s your dream job?”

Alora groaned.

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“You ask questions.”

“That’s how conversations work.”

She sighed dramatically.

Daniel smiled.

Eventually she answered.

“I want to work in pediatrics.”

His eyebrows rose.

“Really?”

“Why do you sound surprised?”

“I don’t know.”

“You thought surgery?”

“A little.”

She looked horrified.

“Surgery is terrifying.”

Daniel laughed.

“You literally dissect people.”

“Cadavers.”

“Still people.”

“Dead people.”

“Still people.”

She pointed at him.

“You are impossible.”

“You like me anyway.”

The words slipped out before either of them could stop them.

Both froze.

Daniel looked surprised.

Alora looked surprised.

Then Daniel laughed awkwardly.

“I mean—”

“I know what you meant.”

“Good.”

“Very smooth.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it.”

Alora shook her head.

But she was smiling.

Again.

Always smiling around him lately.

Daniel noticed.

And secretly loved it.

By the time they reached her dorm building, the conversation had drifted into nonsense.

Movies.

Bad professors.

Terrible cafeteria food.

Random childhood stories.

Normal things.

Safe things.

The kind of things that made people matter to each other.

They stopped outside the entrance.

For a second neither moved.

Daniel looked up at the building.

Then back at her.

“Well.”

“Well.”

“You survived another day.”

“Barely.”

“Proud of you.”

Alora laughed.

“You sound eighty.”

“I feel eighty.”

“You act twelve.”

“Fair.”

Another smile.

Another one.

Daniel felt absurdly pleased by it.

Then he stepped backward.

“Goodnight, Alora.”

“Goodnight, Daniel.”

He turned.

Started walking away.

Then stopped.

Turned back.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“You forgot your notebook.”

Alora looked down.

Sure enough.

He was holding it.

She laughed.

“Thank you.”

Daniel handed it over.

Their fingers brushed briefly.

Nothing happened.

Nothing dramatic.

No lightning.

No music.

No fireworks.

Just a second.

Then it was gone.

Daniel smiled.

“Now goodnight.”

This time he actually left.

Alora watched him disappear down the sidewalk.

A strange warmth settled in her chest.

Comfort.

Safety.

Something.

She couldn’t name it.

Eventually she turned toward the dorm entrance.

Then froze.

Across the street.

Parked beneath a streetlamp.

A black car.

Familiar.

Very familiar.

Her stomach dropped.

Because she recognized it immediately.

Professor Reid’s car.

The windows were dark.

The engine was running.

For one impossible second she wondered if he was inside.

Watching.

Then the car slowly pulled away from the curb.

And disappeared into the night.

Leaving Alora standing there with far more questions than answers.