Amara told herself she didn't care.
She repeated it like a mantra as she walked across campus the next afternoon, books hugged tightly to her chest.
She didn't care that people still whispered when she passed.
She didn't care that Sade's teasing smile had become a daily occurrence.
And she definitely didn't care that Kian Blake was suddenly… everywhere.
She cared about none of it.
So why did her steps slow when she saw him outside the faculty building?
Kian stood with a girl.
The girl was pretty in an effortless way—long hair, confident posture, laughter that came easily. She touched his arm when she spoke. He didn't move away.
Amara's chest tightened.
She looked away immediately, annoyed with herself. This was ridiculous. He wasn't hers. He wasn't anything to her.
Just a roommate.
She adjusted her bag and kept walking.
"Amara."
She froze.
Kian's voice.
She turned despite herself. He had noticed her—of course he had—and was already walking toward her. The girl watched them, curiosity clear on her face.
"Hey," he said. "You're heading back?"
"Yes." Too quickly.
He glanced at the books in her arms. "Study group?"
"No. Just… studying."
He nodded. "I'll catch up."
The girl raised an eyebrow. "Later, Kian."
"Yeah."
Amara didn't miss the way the girl looked her over before walking away.
She hated that she noticed.
The walk back to Okeleye Hostel was quiet.
Too quiet.
"So," Amara said finally, hating the tension.
"Your… friend?"
Kian glanced at her. "That's what you're calling it?"
She stiffened. "I'm not calling it anything."
He smirked. "Relax. Her name's Tola. We're in the same department."
"Oh." The word slipped out before she could stop it.
He looked at her sideways. "Why? Does it matter?"
"No," she said quickly. "Why would it?"
"Exactly."
She frowned. That didn't sound like agreement. It sounded like amusement.
They reached the room and went inside.
Amara dropped her books on the desk a little harder than necessary.
Kian watched her for a moment. "You're quiet."
"I'm tired."
He nodded slowly, like he didn't quite believe her.
Later that night, as she lay in bed, sleep refused to come.
She found herself thinking about the way the girl had laughed with him. The way he had looked comfortable. Familiar.
And for the first time since this whole situation started, a sharp, uncomfortable truth surfaced:
She didn't like sharing her space.
Not the room.
Not the attention.
Not him.
Across the room, Kian turned on his bed.
"You're awake," he said softly.
"So are you."
Silence.
Then, "You don't have to worry."
She rolled onto her side, facing the wall. "I'm not."
He didn't push. He never did.
But as the room settled into quiet again,
Amara realized something that made her heart beat faster than it should have:
She was lying.
And she wasn't sure how to stop.