Chapter 6: The Optics of Us

FEYA

"You're walking too fast," Jaxson muttered, his hand wrapping around my wrist.

I stopped dead in the middle of the quad. The fabric of my oversized sweater was the only thing preventing direct skin contact, but the heat of his palm still radiated straight through the wool.

"I am walking at a standard human pace of three miles per hour," I said, looking directly at his collarbone. "You are the one dragging your feet, Mr. Rivers."

"Because everyone is looking at us, Ghost. If we sprint across the grass like we're escaping a fire, it looks suspicious. Slow down."

I glanced around using my peripheral vision. He was correct. At least twelve people had stopped near the science fountain to stare.

Two girls on a bench were actively holding their phones up, the lenses aimed straight at us. My skin felt tight. The air felt too thick to breathe.

"We have been walking for exactly four minutes," I whispered, my jaw rigid. "The public display requirements for today have been sufficiently met. I am leaving."

"No, we haven't met them," Jaxson said. He didn't let go of my wrist. Instead, his fingers slid down, wrapping firmly around my palm.

I stiffened. "You are not wearing gloves."

"I forgot them in my locker. Deal with it for five minutes." He squeezed my hand, tugging me closer until his shoulder brushed mine. "Smile. Or at least look like you don't want to swallow glass."

"This is an unacceptable alteration to the contract," I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the pavement. "Touch was supposed to be restricted to gloved contact."

"The contract doesn't cover the fact that half the hockey team is sitting at the outdoor café right now, watching to see if I actually bagged the campus ghost or if the blog was lying."

Jaxson raised his free hand, waving casually toward a table of large boys in matching St. Jude track jackets. "Look at them and pretend you like me."

"I am an analytical thinker, Jaxson. I cannot simulate affection on command."

"Just copy what normal people do."

"Normal people do not sign five-thousand-dollar-a-week fake dating contracts to protect a broken hockey player's draft prospects."

Jaxson choked on a breath, his grip tightening slightly. "Christ. Keep your voice down."

"There is no one within a six-foot radius."

"Caleb is looking right at us," he said, his voice dropping an octave. His pace slowed even further. "Don't look over there. Just look at me."

Against my better judgment, I tilted my head up. I didn't look at his eyes cause that was too overwhelming so I focused on the small, faint scar just below his lower lip.

It disrupted the perfect symmetry of his face. It was the only part of him that looked flawed.

"Your eye is twitching," I noted clinically.

"My head hurts," he admitted, his raspy voice sounding genuinely strained. "The sun is hitting the concrete. Everything has a yellow shadow around it today."

My chest tightened, but not from the social anxiety this time. "The double vision?"

"Yeah."

"Then you should not be outside without head protection. A baseball cap would reduce the peripheral light pollution by thirty percent."

A faint, surprised smile touched his lips. It faded almost instantly, replaced by a grimace as he blinked rapidly. "Look at that. You actually care about my health."

"I care about my financial compensation. If you go blind, your father cuts off the funding, and my bank account returns to zero. It is a simple matter of economics."

"You're a cold piece of work, Baldwin."

"Thank you."

We reached the edge of the quad, near the entrance of the dining hall. The crowd was thicker here.

I could hear the distinct murmur of my name being passed between groups of students. The lawyer’s daughter. The freak. The charity case.

My heart started pounding really hard. My fingers twitched inside his grip.

Jaxson noticed. Before I could pull away, he stepped directly in front of me, blocking the crowd from my view.

He was so large that his shadow completely covered me, instantly cutting off the harsh sunlight.

"Hey," he said gently. "Look at my chin or some shit."

I looked.

"We're almost done," he said. "We're going to walk into the cafe, buy two coffees, sit down for ten minutes, and then you can go back to your darkroom. Okay?"

"I do not drink coffee. It overstimulates my nervous system."

"Then I'll buy you a cup of hot water and a tea bag. Just stand next to me."

He turned, keeping our hands locked as he pulled me through the heavy glass doors of the campus coffee shop. The scent of roasted beans and stale pastries hit me instantly. The noise level doubled.

"Rivers!"

The voice was loud, smooth, and entirely too confident.

Jaxson froze beside me. I felt the muscles in his arm turn to granite.

Caleb Sterling was sliding out of a booth near the counter. He wore a tailored navy sweater, his blonde hair perfectly styled, a brilliant smile on his face that didn't reach his dark eyes at all. He looked like the cover of a university brochure.

"Caleb," Jaxson said, his voice instantly getting a bit tense underneath the warm greeting.

"I thought that was you," Caleb said, his eyes shifting from Jaxson’s face straight down to our joined hands. His smile widened, turning razor-sharp. "And you brought a guest. The famous Feya Baldwin."

I didn't say anything. I let my hand go completely limp in Jaxson's grip, wishing I could disappear into the floorboards.

"We're just grabbing a drink. Fancy seeing you here asshole. Don’t you have any seraphic halos to polish?," Jaxson said, as he dapped up Caleb.

"Don't be like that, Captain," Caleb said, stepping directly into our path. He leaned against the counter, his gaze locking onto my face.

"I was just surprised, that's all. The blogs are one thing, but seeing the Ice King actually holding hands with the campus ghost? It's a lot to process. Especially since nobody even knew you two walked in the same circles. Certainly not I, your bestfriend."

"People change circles," Jaxson shrugged.

"Clearly," Caleb murmured. He took a step closer to me, his expression dripping with artificial warmth. "You know, Feya, I've heard a lot about you. Mostly about how incredibly smart you are. People say you can fix just about any problem on this campus if the price is right."

My heart stopped beating.

Jaxson stepped heavily between us, his shoulder shoving Caleb back half an inch. "She doesn't talk to assholes, Caleb. Be nice or back off."

"I'm not a stranger, I'm your backup goalie," Caleb laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. But his eyes stayed fixed on me from over Jaxson's shoulder.

"I'm just an admirer of genius, Jax. In fact, I've been having some real trouble with my advanced administrative statistics lately. I was wondering if your new girl might be open to taking on a new client."

He looked directly at me , and my skin crawled.

"Because I have a feeling," Caleb whispered, "that she’s exceptionally good at making things…disappear."