Lahat ng Kabanata ng Aria: Scales of Love: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

The party picture haunted me all weekend. It was a constant, unwelcome guest in my mind, a specter in neon and shadows that I couldn't escape. It was there when I woke up on Saturday morning, the first image that flashed through my groggy brain. It was there while I tried to do my homework, the blonde’s smiling face superimposed over the calculus equations I was trying to solve. It was there when I went to the grocery store with my mom, her hand on Jude’s arm a phantom weight on my own. I saw her face in the produce section, her perfect, smiling face a stark contrast to my own reflection in the glass of the freezer doors. I saw her hand on his arm, a claim I couldn't challenge from two hundred miles away, a brand new insecurity to add to my already overflowing collection.I tried to reason with myself, to have a rational conversation with the irrational voice in my head. Jude loves me, I'd tell myself, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. He chose me. He turned down UCLA f

That night, my phone buzzed with the familiar chime of a FaceTime call. I was curled up on my bed, trying to read, but the words were blurring together, my mind a mess of guilt and a treacherous, unwelcome excitement. I scrambled to grab my phone, my heart leaping into my throat. It was Jude. I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself, to push away the memory of Noah’s smile, of the word "date" hanging in the air like a shimmering, forbidden fruit."Hey, baby," he said, his voice a low, tired rumble. He was in his dorm room, the background quiet, a stark contrast to the last call. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and a crease of concentration between his brows. "Sorry I haven't called. It's been a hell of a couple of days. Practice was brutal—Coach is trying some new defensive scheme and it's a nightmare. And I had a huge physics exam that I'm pretty sure I failed.""I'm sorry," I said, my voice soft, my guilt a physical weight in my chest. "That sounds rough.

 The silence from Jude that night was a physical presence in my room, a cold, heavy blanket that smothered me. I told myself he was just busy. That was the excuse I clung to, the mantra I repeated as I stared at my phone, willing it to light up with his name. He had a huge game that weekend, a conference rivalry that was all anyone could talk about at school. He was probably studying, watching film, getting in the zone. He was focused. He was a leader. I shouldn't bother him with my petty anxieties and my coffee shop drama. But the silence felt different this time. It wasn't just the usual busy silence; it felt like a wall. A deliberate, impenetrable wall he had built to keep me out. Every time I replayed the conversation with Ryan in my head, a fresh wave of nausea washed over me. Does Jude know about this guy? Ryan’s question, born from a place of misguided lo

The euphoria of the victory carried me through the rest of the weekend, a warm, glowing shield against the lingering chill of doubt. I looked at Jude’s picture a hundred times, tracing the outline of his triumphant grin with my thumb. The caption, We won, baby. I wish you were here!, was a balm to my soul, a direct line to his heart that bypassed all the static and silence of the past week. For the first time in days, the distance felt manageable, a temporary obstacle rather than a permanent state of being.On Sunday evening, curled up on the couch with a textbook I wasn’t actually reading, my phone buzzed. It was him. Not a text, but a FaceTime call. My heart did its familiar leap, but this time it was a leap of pure, unadulterated joy. I scrambled to answer, my face breaking into a wide smile as his face filled the screen.He was back in his dorm room, the background a mess of textbooks and discarded clothes. He looked exhausted but happy, his hair still dam

The campus of the University of Florida was a world unto itself. As Jude drove us through the sprawling, tree-lined streets, I felt like I was stepping into a different dimension, a place buzzing with a vibrant, youthful energy that was both intimidating and exhilarating. The buildings were a mix of historic red brick and sleek modern glass, and the students, a river of sun-kissed faces, moved with a purposeful, carefree stride that I envied."This is it," Jude said, his voice filled with a quiet pride as he pulled into a parking spot outside a modern-looking dormitory. "Welcome to my humble abode."His room was on the third floor. It was small, a typical double-occupancy space, but it was unmistakably his. The other side of the room was meticulously organized, the bed made with military precision, textbooks stacked neatly on a desk. Jude’s side, however, was a controlled chaos. A football playbook lay open on his unmade bed, his jersey from the big game last wee