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James woke up before the sun had fully risen. The room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the fan and the occasional creak of the old college building. He stretched, yawned, and headed to the small kitchenette in their dorm. He wasn't the best cook in the world, but he could make breakfast decent enough to impress. Pancakes, eggs, a side of strawberries—something light but comforting.
With the tray in hand, he walked back to the room and gently opened the door. Blair was still asleep, curled in his oversized hoodie and shorts, small and soft against the massive duvet. Her long lashes cast little shadows on her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as her breathing came slow and deep. She looked fragile, peaceful… and heartbreakingly beautiful.
He placed the tray on the desk and sat beside her on the bed, watching her. Why had she told him to stay away? Was it because of Oliver? The thought alone had his jaw clenching. Just then, she stirred, eyes fluttering open as the morning light kissed her face.
"Good morning," she mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.
"Morning," he said softly, offering a smile. "Brought you breakfast."
She nodded, sitting up carefully. "Thank you." She took a bite of the pancake. "This tastes… actually nice."
James smirked, leaning back on his palms. "Don't sound too surprised. I can cook, you know. I'm more than a pretty face."
Blair let out a small smile, the first real one he'd seen from her since yesterday. He stared at her, his chest tightening with something he didn't want to name. "Feeling better?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah… just sore."
"That's good," he murmured. But the air shifted, tense and uneasy. "So… why did you tell me to stay away from you?"
Blair froze, fork mid-air. Her gaze dropped to the tray, then slowly lifted to meet his. "You slept with Mary," she said, voice low.
James blinked, confused. "I don't follow…"
Blair's tone sharpened. "You know how Cassie feels about you. And you slept with Mary. One of her best friends."
He sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. "Mary came to me, Blair. You're acting like I plotted something. And why do you care? How does that even affect you?"
Blair's voice rose. "Because it tells me everything I need to know about you. You hurt Cassie like it meant nothing. And the worst part? You don't even feel bad."
James stood up, pacing now, frustrated. "You want me to stop talking to you because I don't feel guilty about Cass? You don't know our history, Blair. You don't know anything about what happened between us. You had no right to take sides or judge without even asking."
"I didn't need to ask," she shot back. "You live up to every single expectation people have of you. I figured this wouldn't be different."
He turned, fury and something else storming in his eyes. "Clearly, you know nothing about me. So shut up. Don't act like you do."
And just like that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Blair sat there, stunned into silence. Her heart raced, guilt biting at her chest, but beneath it… was something else.
Why do I like the way he yelled at me?
Oh my gosh.
I keep falling for James.
---
---
James stepped out of the room, running a hand through his damp hair. Caleb and Andrew were sprawled on the couch in the common area, controllers in hand, mid-game when they looked up and noticed the look on his face.
"Oh damn," Caleb smirked. "You two aren't even officially dating and you're already having lover's quarrels?"
Andrew chuckled, nudging Caleb. "Drama before breakfast, huh?"
James rolled his eyes, though a reluctant grin tugged at his lips. "Shut up, both of you."
Just then, Blair padded out of the room, holding the tray and dishes from earlier. She walked over to the sink and started rinsing them, giving a small smile.
"Hey Caleb, hey Andrew."
"Hey B," Caleb greeted with a soft smile. "You feeling better?"
Blair nodded. "A little, yeah. Thank you."
Caleb stood, tossing his controller aside. "Whenever you're ready to head home, just let me know. I'll drive."
"Thanks, I appreciate it," Blair replied warmly, glancing quickly in James's direction before disappearing back into the bedroom.
James waited a few moments before following her inside. When he re-entered, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking unsure but thoughtful. He'd already showered, his hair still damp, wearing a plain white shirt and grey sweats. The tension between them lingered—different now, charged, softer.
"I'm sorry," Blair said quietly, her voice tentative. "For judging you without asking. I shouldn't have assumed."
James leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes on her. "It's cool," he said, voice low.
Their eyes locked, the silence thick with something neither of them could name yet. Blair's gaze drifted from his eyes to his lips, lingering just a second too long. James noticed. And he felt it—that pull. That ache.
God, he wanted to kiss her.
But just before the moment tipped over, he looked away, breaking the eye contact like it burned. "I'll go get dressed," he muttered and turned back into the bathroom.
Blair lay back down on the bed, letting the quiet fill the space again. Eventually, her exhaustion won out and she drifted off into another nap.
An hour later, she finally stirred. Stretching, she got up, showered, and slipped into one of James's clean t-shirts and a pair of soft shorts she found in his drawer. It felt comfortable. Safe. She looked at herself in the mirror and, for once, didn't feel like hiding.
When she stepped out, Caleb was already waiting with his car keys in hand.
"You good?" he asked, holding the door open.
Blair nodded. "Yeah… I'm good."
And with that, they left, the quiet hum of the car the only sound between them for a while—until Caleb glanced at her and said with a smirk, "You know, you're not even trying to deny it anymore."
Blair looked away, blushing slightly.
She wasn't.
---
When Caleb pulled into the driveway, the house looked still, quiet from the outside—but Blair could already feel something was off. She stepped out slowly, clutching James's hoodie closer to her body. Caleb walked beside her, calm on the outside, but already bracing for impact.
As soon as the front door opened and they stepped in, Blair saw them.
Maddie. Cassie. And Jazmine.
They were gathered around the dining table with Lily, the smell of waffles and scrambled eggs filling the air. The sound of their conversation faded the second Blair and Caleb entered.
The silence was deafening.
"Good morning," Blair said gently, forcing a small smile.
Lily opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Jazmine stood abruptly from her chair and stormed toward Blair, a small bag in her hand.
"Your date said you forgot this," she hissed, shoving the bag into Blair's chest.
Caleb let out a sharp breath. "Shit."
Blair looked down at the bag, then back up at Jazmine, eyes wide. "Wait—Oliver came here?"
Jazmine folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Why would you go on a date with my ex?"
Blair's heart stopped. "O—Oliver is your ex?" She looked at Caleb, stunned. "I-I didn't know…"
Jazmine's voice rose. "Don't play dumb. Of course you didn't know. Because you don't pay attention to anyone but yourself! You're selfish!"
"Jazmine," Caleb warned, stepping in. "Yelling won't fix anything. Blair didn't know. You never told her."
Blair dropped her eyes to the floor, the name Oliver alone making her stomach turn. Her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held the bag to her chest.
From behind, Maddie's voice rang out. "Why are you wearing a boy's clothes?"
Blair froze.
"I—uh—" she stammered, her face heating up.
Caleb jumped in. "It's mine. She's just doing a little fashion inspo thing," he said, clearly lying.
No one bought it. Their eyes were full of confusion, suspicion.
Then Cassie stood abruptly. "Is that why you didn't tell me who your date was? Because it was Oliver?" she snapped. "How could you be so blind, Blair? Didn't you notice how uncomfortable Jazmine always got around him?"
"You're so selfish," Jazmine spat again.
"I didn't know," Blair whispered. Her voice was so soft, it barely made it past her lips.
"She said she didn't know!" Maddie shouted from the kitchen. "You guys never told her either, so maybe don't put all the blame on her!"
Cassie and Jazmine turned toward Maddie, voices rising. Soon, the three of them were arguing across the room—words flying, accusations sharp and loud.
And Blair—Blair was sinking.
Her chest tightened. Her hands trembled harder. Her breath came in shallow, rapid gasps. The walls seemed to close in around her. The sound of their voices warped, echoing, distorted.
She tried to take a step back—but the dizziness hit first.
Everything blurred. Then went black.
Caleb moved faster than anyone in the room, catching Blair just before she hit the floor.
"Blair? Blair!" he called, lowering her gently into his arms.
The girls fell silent, stunned.
He carried her up to her room without another word, carefully tucking her under her blanket. She looked pale, her breathing shallow, but steady. Caleb ran a hand over his face and stood.
Downstairs, the tension still hung thick in the air.
He walked into the kitchen where Lily was already moving with purpose.
"She's out cold," he said. "And I'm not saying anything until James and Andrew get here."
Lily nodded, quietly pulling out a kettle and some pain relievers. "I'll help you prepare something for her. She's been through enough."
Caleb leaned against the counter, eyes hard. "You guys want to talk about selfish?" he muttered. "Maybe look in a damn mirror."
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