ENTANGLED HEARTS

The campus buzzed with energy-laughter echoed through the open courtyard, backpacks bounced on shoulders, and bright eyes scanned for familiar faces. For most, the first day of the semester was a fresh start. For Ava Carter, it was just another place to blend into.

She pulled her hoodie tighter over her head, the fabric shadowing her face as she walked between the buildings. Her headphones blasted soft acoustic music, not loud enough to drown out the world completely, but enough to mute it.

New school, same people in different packaging.

She kept her eyes down, focusing on the cracked pavement.

Her past clung to her like a second skin. No matter where she went, it came too.

Inside the Humanities Hall, Ava slid into a seat at the back of the lecture room. Her notebook was already open, her pen uncapped. Prepared. Invisible. That was how she liked it.

Until he walked in.

Helmet under one arm, keys dangling from his fingers, Liam West made his entrance like a scene straight out of a teen drama. Tousled dark hair, a smug half-smile, and an aura that screamed I know you're watching.

He was late. And he didn't care.

Their eyes met for a second-purely by accident. He looked down, smirked, and walked right past her desk without so much as a nod. Ava rolled her eyes.

Of course. The universe always makes sure I sit near people like him.

When class started, Professor Albright wasted no time.

"Partner project this semester," she announced. "Choose wisely-or let fate decide. You'll be working closely for the next few weeks."

Before Ava could blink, the professor had already begun pairing names.

"And finally-Ava Carter and Liam West."

A pause.

Both heads turned.

Ava's brows furrowed. "I'd rather work alone," she said quietly, hoping no one heard.

Liam raised his hand. "Same. No offense, hoodie girl."

"None taken, bike boy."

Professor Albright raised a brow. "Excellent. I look forward to your chemistry."

The room chuckled. Ava didn't.

After class, Ava shoved her notebook into her bag, fully prepared to avoid any interaction. But of course, he was already beside her.

"You always this friendly?" Liam asked, falling into step.

"Only with guys who nearly run me over in hallways and call me hoodie girl."

He gave her a sideways glance. "It's a good look. Mysterious."

"I'm not trying to be mysterious. I'm trying to be left alone."

"Noted."

They walked in silence for a beat.

Just before she turned down another corridor, she caught a glimpse of his phone. A photo. A girl. Smiling. Framed in golden light. Liam's expression softened for the first time since she'd seen him.

Then he noticed her looking.

The smirk was back. Instantly.

"See something you like?" he teased.

"No. Just surprised you have depth."

She turned on her heel and left before he could reply.

Liam stood there for a second longer than he should have, staring at where she had disappeared.

The campus pulsed with life-laughter, hurried footsteps, the occasional burst of someone shouting a name across the courtyard. Ava Carter moved through it all like a ghost, unnoticed and unbothered. Her hoodie was pulled over her head, casting shadows over her sharp brown eyes. A single earbud played soft, slow music, drowning out the world just enough to make it bearable.

She hated the first days of anything. New places, new people, new expectations. They always came with the same old lies: It's a fresh start. You can be whoever you want to be. No one ever mentioned that the past had a way of hitching a ride, no matter how far you tried to run.

Ava clutched her worn leather backpack tighter as she weaved through the courtyard, avoiding eye contact like it was a competitive sport. She reached the entrance to the humanities building and slipped inside. The air inside was cooler, quieter, but no less suffocating.

Room 3B.

She found it easily enough and chose a seat near the back corner of the lecture hall-her usual spot in life: distant, overlooked, safe. As students trickled in, most chatted like they'd known each other for years. She popped out her earbud and tried not to feel the creeping unease in her stomach.

Her pen tapped against her notebook. She'd even written the date in the corner, like some sad attempt at normalcy. January 14th. New semester. Same walls.

She was scanning the course syllabus when the door banged open.

Her eyes lifted on instinct.

And there he was.

Leather jacket. Motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm. Dark jeans slung low on his hips. Hair tousled in that effortless, arrogant way. His smirk came naturally, as if the whole world had delivered a private joke just for him.

Liam West.

Even if she didn't know his name yet, she knew his type. She'd seen him in every town, every school, every late-night party she'd never been invited to. The kind of guy who got what he wanted without asking. Charming, reckless, emotionally unavailable.

He walked in like he owned the room. Like rules were optional and time bent for his convenience.

She dropped her eyes before he could catch her staring.

But fate-or whatever cruel thing it was that played with her life-wasn't done yet.

Professor Albright, a middle-aged woman with a kind but no-nonsense tone, stood at the front of the room. "This semester," she began, "your final project will be done in pairs. I'm assigning partners to keep things fair."

A quiet groan rippled through the class. Ava straightened.

No. Please not-

"Carter and West."

Her stomach dropped.

She glanced up. Liam was already looking at her. His smirk widened.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said.

She raised a brow. "Oh, trust me, I'm not thrilled either."

The professor continued without pause. "Your partner will be your academic mirror. If one fails, both do. So, work together. Collaborate. Compromise."

Liam slid into the empty seat beside her with a dramatic sigh. "Academic mirror? Sounds deep."

"Don't talk to me," she muttered.

He leaned in slightly, voice lowered. "You're not exactly sunshine yourself, hoodie girl."

She bit her tongue. No use feeding the fire.

He smelled faintly of citrus and smoke. The scent annoyed her more than it should have.