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EPISODE 4 — First Week, Lasting Impressions
(Layla's POV)
The first week at Avalon University was a blur of names, syllabi, and hallways that seemed to stretch forever. I had imagined it would feel different — exciting, like stepping into a new life — but mostly it felt overwhelming.
Chloe, of course, thrived immediately. She bounded through every orientation session, waving at professors, charming seniors, and somehow signing up for three clubs before lunch on the first day. I watched her from the edge of the lecture hall, notebook open, pretending to take notes while secretly trying not to look lost.
"You're not going to survive if you keep sitting in the back like that," Chloe whispered, nudging me as Professor Holloway droned on about campus resources. "Come on. Walk with me. Let's make friends before we turn into invisible freshmen."
I hesitated. Socializing had never been my forte. But Chloe's grin was infectious, impossible to resist. "Fine," I muttered, closing my notebook, "but I'm not talking to anyone named Brandon or Todd."
She snorted. "Noted. I'll keep you safe."
The campus was alive with students rushing to and fro, some in matching club T-shirts, others clutching coffee and laptops like they were armor. I didn't have time to soak it all in before I heard the sound I'd been trying to avoid: laughter that made my stomach tighten and palms sweat.
Ethan.
He leaned against the wall near the quad, a backpack slung casually over one shoulder, his expression unreadable, but the glint in his eyes unmistakable. He spotted me instantly, like he always did, and the faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
I turned my head quickly, pretending to adjust my bag. Chloe leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "You're doomed."
"Not doomed," I hissed, "just… cautious."
Cautious wasn't exactly true. My pulse betrayed me, thumping in my ears as I felt him watching.
By the end of the day, Chloe and I had moved into our dorm properly. Room 204, a small but cozy space with two beds, a shared wardrobe, and one large window that overlooked the fountain in the quad. Chloe immediately claimed the bed by the window. "View, sunlight, Instagram potential," she explained, tossing her throw pillow onto it.
I unpacked quietly, still half in a daze from the chaos of the campus and Ethan's impossible timing. My own bed faced the wall, and I arranged my books and toiletries carefully. The routine of unpacking helped calm me, but not for long.
"Wait, we're not alone."
Chloe tilted her head.
I froze. At first, I thought she meant Ethan, but no. There was a small stack of boxes in the corner I hadn't noticed. I hadn't been told about another roommate — yet here she was, a girl emerging from behind the closet with a tired but friendly smile.
"Oh! You must be Layla, right?" The girl's voice was soft, yet carried easily across the room. She had dark curly hair pulled into a messy bun and wore sweatpants and a hoodie that made her look effortlessly casual. "I'm Mia. They told me I'd be sharing a room with you guys for the semester."
Chloe clapped her hands together. "See? I told you. It's perfect! More people = more fun."
I gave a small smile, still a little guarded. "Nice to meet you, Mia."
Mia shrugged and began unpacking her things. "Sorry if I'm a little early. Orientation's exhausting, huh?"
"Exhausting is one word for it," Chloe agreed. "Layla here is in survival mode."
I shot Chloe a look, but it didn't matter. Mia laughed softly, glancing at me with curiosity in her eyes. Something about her felt… calm. Nonjudgmental.
That night, after Chloe had fallen asleep to some late-night study playlist, I stayed by the window. The dorms were quiet now, a stark contrast to the noise of the campus. And of course, my thoughts drifted back to him.
Ethan.
I had no idea how he always managed to appear at the right place at the right time. Like he had some supernatural radar tuned to me.
I turned toward my laptop, scrolling absentmindedly through messages from friends back home, and froze at a notification. A story post. Ethan's. He was at the quad, hoodie up, alone, sketching in a notebook. His gaze flicked up, catching the camera — or maybe someone else's camera — and for a moment, I felt exposed.
I closed the laptop. Breathe, Layla. He hasn't noticed you.
But he had.
---
The next morning brought chaos in the form of our first psychology lecture. Chloe was practically bouncing with excitement, and Mia had a quiet confidence, scribbling notes meticulously. I sat in between them, notebook open, pen ready, but mostly trying not to trip over my own nerves.
And then… the universe intervened.
The door swung open.
"Professor, can I borrow this?" A voice I knew too well — Ethan's — and yes, he had somehow arrived in the same lecture.
I froze, pencil hovering above paper. The lecture hall felt smaller, the air heavier. I could hear my own heartbeat, a drumline in my ears.
He didn't sit next to me. Of course not. He chose the row directly behind, but angled his body so he could see me without looking like he was staring. And that smirk. That damn smirk.
"Layla Hart," he muttered under his breath, like a secret.
I wanted to respond, but my voice didn't exist.
The professor droned on about cognitive biases, but I wasn't listening. My entire focus was on him, on the way he leaned casually against the desk, pen in hand, notepad open. Studying, doodling… thinking.
Chloe elbowed me. "Stop staring like a maniac. You're practically drooling."
"I'm not staring," I whispered sharply.
"Yes, you are," Mia added quietly. "Relax. He's a person, not… a phenomenon."
I blinked at her. "He's not just a person."
Mia's eyes flicked to the front of the class, unconcerned. "Right. Sure."
Chloe snorted. "I think she just declared war on herself."
---
After class, I tried to avoid him — strategically taking the route through the library rather than the quad. But the universe was relentless.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said, leaning against a bookshelf, casual as ever.
I nearly tripped over a chair. "Ethan! I… I didn't see you there."
"Of course you did. You always do." His grin tugged at something I didn't want to admit — hope, maybe, or longing.
We spent the next few minutes circling each other like wary predators, neither making the first move but both aware of the tension.
"You're taking psychology?" he asked, finally.
"Yeah. You already knew."
He shrugged. "I like knowing things."
"Creepy," I muttered.
"Intriguing," he corrected.
And just like that, the tension between us was back. Electric. Dangerous. Delicious.
---
That evening, Chloe suggested we explore campus together. Mia came along, a quiet but observant presence. It was supposed to be casual — a walk around the fountain, ice cream from the campus café.
But of course, fate had other plans.
We rounded a corner near the student center and ran straight into him. Ethan. Smirking. Hoodie half-zipped. Hands tucked into pockets.
"Fancy meeting you again," he said, voice low.
I rolled my eyes. "I was trying to avoid you."
"Ah," he said, tilting his head, "but I found you anyway."
Chloe groaned loudly. "You're impossible."
Mia raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe he's persistent."
I opened my mouth to argue but didn't have the energy. The truth was… I wasn't sure I wanted him to stop finding me.
He leaned closer. "I meant what I said last night — and at prom. I don't play games."
"And yet you find me everywhere," I shot back, trying to keep my tone light.
"Maybe I like being where I shouldn't be."
I glanced at Chloe, who was rolling her eyes dramatically, and then at Mia, who was silently observing. Their expressions didn't matter. All that mattered was him, and the way the world seemed to narrow around us.
---
By the end of the week, I realized something that terrified and excited me at the same time:
Ethan Marshall wasn't just a fleeting part of prom night.
He was here. He was real. And he was paying attention.
And for someone like me — someone used to blending into the background — that was more dangerous than I could admit.
Because Avalon University wasn't just a new beginning.
It was the stage for something far bigger.
Something I wasn't ready to name yet.
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