Chapter 22: Chapter 22
The lecture hall doors made a soft sound as Celeste pushed through the doors. The stale smell of ink and whiteboard markers drifting into her nose.
The hum of a hundred conversations filled the air, broken occasionally by a chair scraping or someone laughing too loud at something not that funny. Celeste sometimes hated this place even as a final year student.
"Hey, Celeste!" A voice rang out from the front left row.
Celeste blinked. Her eyes caught the unmistakable wave of Amara’s raised hand. She was half-standing in her seat, with her gold hoops bouncing against her wild curls. "Come over here!"
A few heads turned. Celeste forced a smile, rubbing her palms nervously down her jeans. Her boots clicked quietly as she made her way through the row of seats, murmuring apologies as she stepped past knees and opened backpacks.
Amara giggled before she even spoke. "You’re trending again," she said, tugging Celeste down into the seat beside her. "Mr. Dominic was caught fresh before your dorm door."
Celeste froze. "What?" Her heart dropped, even if she knew something like this was possible when she saw him this morning.
"Oh, don’t act like you didn’t know," Amara grinned. "There’s literal video footage. I saw it on three different WhatsApp groups already. I mean, who needs a campus magazine when Dominic Cross is doing personal PR for you?"
"Celeste!" Someone from the far end of the room gave a loud, theatrical salute.
Celeste turned.
"Your Majesty," a guy in a leather jacket called, standing briefly and bowing low. "We are honored by your presence this fine morning."
A ripple of laughter followed. Her course mates were funny when they had to be, but this was too much. Wait, had they seen him come inside?
Another voice chimed in. "Can you tell Mr. D he’s doing perfectly fine with the scholarships, and he should add more names to the list next time? You clearly got that man by the tie."
More laughter followed. A few hands applauded, enjoying the joke.
Celeste gave an awkward chuckle, trying not to bury her face in her hands. Her cheeks flushed instantly. She wasn’t used to this, being seen. Everyone knew about Landon, but not his influential uncle.
"Kill me," she whispered, turning to Amara.
"You’re not dying," Amara whispered back, practically giddy. "You’re beautiful."
Celeste sighed, grabbing Amara’s arm and yanking her down into their seats properly. "Corner. Now."
"But class is in ten minutes_"
"Then we better make it fast."
They shuffled to a corner of the lecture hall, ducking into two unused chairs by the windows, away from the murmuring crowd and direct attention.
"I can’t breathe," Celeste said, slumping into the seat.
Amara laughed. "From the attention or the whole... Dominic-parked-outside-your-dorm thing?"
Celeste raised an eyebrow. "You think this is funny?"
"I think it’s hot," Amara said. "And absolutely wild. I mean... Dominic Cross? THE Dominic Cross? Outside your door like a freaking campus Romeo? The man looked like he paid someone to hold his coat and brood."
Celeste groaned. "Please, can we not talk about Cross men this morning? Finals are coming. I haven’t even looked at my notes since midterms. I’m going to fail. We’re all going to die. I’ll never graduate. My dead mother will kill me before my anxiety can."
Amara snorted. "Wow. That escalated."
Celeste folded her arms. "No, seriously. Can we talk about actual survival? Like caffeine schedules. Or what exactly Dr. Leigh meant by ’be precise in your assessments’ when the last question on the test was ’diagnose and defend.’"
They both groaned in unison.
"I had a dream last night," Celeste continued. "That I opened my exam paper and it was just a single question: ’Define yourself.’ In Latin."
She barely slept last night but the moment she shut her eyes, she had a dream. It wasn’t even funny to her.
Amara laughed out loud, drawing another look from a nearby group. "Girl, you need therapy."
"No," Celeste muttered. "I need a time machine. And maybe five days of uninterrupted sleep."
Amara reached into her bag and pulled out a squashed granola bar. She offered it. "Emergency ration?"
Celeste accepted it like it was holy bread. "Bless you."
They unwrapped it together, chewing slowly in silence.
After a while, Amara nudged her. "You’re different, you know?"
Celeste blinked. "What?"
"Since this whole Dominic thing started. You’re... I don’t know. A little less jumpy. A little more—you. It’s weird. In a good way."
Celeste looked down at the granola wrapper in her hand, suddenly very aware of the way her heart fluttered at his name. She hated how easily her thoughts drifted back to him. To the way he looked at her. To how gently he touched her wrist. To the quiet heat in his voice when he said her name.
"Stop psychoanalyzing me," she muttered.
"I’m not. I’m observing."
Celeste gave her a look. "You’re a literature major."
"And I’m still better at reading people than your whole department," Amara said proudly.
Celeste rolled her eyes.
After a moment, Amara’s expression shifted. She leaned back in her seat, casually.
"So..." she began. "I was gonna tell you something."
"Let me guess. You’re secretly dating Dr. Leigh and you’re eloping to Paris?" She questioned, her expression deeply curious.
"I wish." Amara swatted her arm. "No. It’s about tonight."
Celeste narrowed her eyes.
"Our shift at the bookstore got canceled. Surprise renovation or some leak or something. The point is... we’re free."
"...Okay?"
"So I was thinking..." Amara said slowly. "We party....?"
Celeste blinked. "Party?"
"Like real humans do. You know, music, sweaty dancing, and bad decisions. It’s been weeks since we went out. Come on. Just for a bit."
"I am studying."
"You have trauma."
Celeste frowned.
"Come on, Cel," Amara coaxed. "Just tonight. I won’t even make you wear a dress. Jeans are fine. Hoodie? Acceptable. But you’re not staying home alone with your notes and ten gallons of guilt. You need one night to just exist. With music. And me. And glitter, probably."
Celeste looked out the window, weighing it.
She was tired. That was the truth. Tired in her soul. "Okay," she said finally. "Fine. But I’m leaving by midnight."
Amara lit up. "You won’t."
"I will."
"We’ll see," Amara said, already reaching for her phone to text their group chat.
Celeste sat back in her chair.
She let herself imagine a night without fear. Just flashing lights, loud music, and her best friend beside her.
Maybe that was enough for now.