Feelings We Hide Within Us

I walked across the quad, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my hoodie, head down, trying to stay unnoticed. The day was overcast, the sky a flat, dull gray that seemed to suck the color from everything around me. I liked it that way. Blending in with the dreariness made it easier to ignore everyone and everything.

I had just left my biology lecture, half-listening to my professor drone on about cellular respiration while my mind wandered elsewhere. my thoughts had circled back to Isabella Monroe again, the name that wouldn't leave me alone, haunting me like a ghost in the back of my mind. It had been weeks since anyone had last spoken about her. Life at Hawthorne College continued as if nothing had happened, as if a girl hadn't just vanished without a trace.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it, even though I told myself I should. The urge to investigate had started to build, but I was forcing myself to hold back. Not yet.

As I approached the library, I noticed Olivia standing by the entrance, her face lighting up as soon as she spotted me. I groaned internally. I wasn't in the mood for another conversation.

"Hey!" Olivia called, jogging over with an awkward smile.

I slowed my pace, considering turning around, but it was too late. Olivia had already caught up.

"Priscilla, right?" she asked, even though we had spoken more than once at this point.

"Yeah," I replied, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

"I was hoping I'd run into you again," Olivia said, her voice bright, though there was a nervous edge to it. "I… I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime?"

I shot her a sharp look. "No."

Olivia's smile faltered, but she didn't back down. "I just think it'd be nice. I mean, we've run into each other a couple of times, and—"

"I'm not interested," I cut her off, my tone was colder than I intended.

Olivia's shoulders slumped slightly, but she still didn't leave. "Look, I know you like being alone. I get it. I just thought maybe… maybe you could use a friend."

My eyes narrowed. "I don't need anyone."

Olivia bit her lip, clearly uncomfortable, but still, she didn't back down. "I don't believe that," she said softly.

For a moment, I was stunned into silence. I had expected Olivia to give up by now. Most people would have. But Olivia stood there, stubbornly holding her ground.

"Why do you care?" I asked, my voice tinged with irritation. "You don't know me."

"I don't know," Olivia admitted, looking away for a moment. "I just… I see you around, and I guess I felt like we could be friends. I mean, I know it's weird, but… I don't know. I just thought it couldn't hurt to try."

I sighed, my irritation mixing with a strange sense of guilt. I didn't want to hurt Olivia's feelings, but I also didn't want to let her in. Letting people in only led to trouble—I had learned that the hard way.

Before I could say anything, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, frowning when I saw the screen. It was another message from my father.

"You better not be out doing something stupid! If you don't respond, I swear—"

I gritted my teeth, locking the phone without replying. my chest tightened as my father's words echoed in my mind, the familiar knot of anxiety and anger building inside me. I didn't need this right now—not from him, not from Olivia, not from anyone.

"Everything okay?" Olivia asked, concern creeping into her voice.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket. "It's fine," I muttered.

"You sure? You looked—"

"I said it's fine," I snapped, harsher than I meant to.

Olivia flinched, but this time she didn't push further. She just stood there, looking at me with wide, uncertain eyes. There was an awkward silence between us before Olivia finally spoke again, her voice softer.

"I just wanted to help," she said quietly. "But I won't bother you anymore."

Before I could respond, Olivia turned and walked away, her shoulders hunched as if trying to make herself smaller. I watched her go, a strange pang of guilt tugging at me. I could have handled that better. But what was done was done.

I sighed, turning back toward the library. I wanted to be alone. That was what I was good at. But as I pushed open the door and stepped inside, the guilt from pushing Olivia away lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

The next morning, the campus buzzed with an odd energy. Whispers filled the hallways, conversations turning toward one person: Alessandro De Berlusconi.

I had heard the name before, but she hadn't paid much attention. He was new, a transfer student from some private school out of state, and everyone seemed fascinated by him. I didn't get the appeal. Another tall, rich kid with a sports scholarship, no doubt. I had seen his type before.

But Alessandro wasn't like the other football players. From the moment he arrived, he had an aura about him that drew people in—whether they wanted to admit it or not. He was tall, dark-haired, and striking, with sharp green eyes that seemed to pierce through everyone he looked at. He moved through the halls with a calm, almost disinterested air, as if the attention being thrown his way didn't affect him in the slightest.

I first saw him as I was heading to class, standing with a group of students by the quad. Alessandro was leaning against a tree, looking utterly bored while others crowded around him, laughing at some joke one of the football players had made. His face remained impassive, almost cold.

For a brief moment, our eyes met across the quad. I felt a strange chill as his gaze swept over me, and I quickly looked away. I didn't like the way he looked at me—like I was invisible, insignificant.

I clenched my jaw and walked past the group without a second glance. Alessandro De Berlusconi could have all the popularity he wanted. I couldn't care less.

Over the next few days, it became impossible to avoid hearing about him. Everyone was talking about how he had already secured a spot on the football team, how he was set to become the captain. He was apparently some kind of prodigy, a golden boy with perfect grades and athletic prowess to match.

I found it irritating. The more people fawned over him, the more I wanted to roll my eyes. There was something about his aloofness, the way he seemed to brush everyone off while still managing to capture their attention, that rubbed me the wrong way. He didn't seem to care about anyone or anything, yet somehow, people couldn't stop talking about him.

One afternoon, I found herself in the library again, trying to focus on my studies, when a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Priscilla?"

I looked up to see Olivia standing by the table, a hesitant smile on her face. I sighed, closing my textbook.

"What is it?" I asked, my tone more tired than harsh this time.

Olivia bit her lip, glancing around nervously before sitting down across from me. "I just… I wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn't mean to push you or anything. I just… I don't know. I thought maybe we could try again. You know, getting to know each other?"

I stared at her for a moment, my initial instinct to say no rising to the surface. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the exhaustion of always pushing people away, or maybe it was the loneliness that had started to creep in despite my best efforts.

"Fine," I said after a long pause. "But don't expect much."

Olivia's face lit up with surprise and relief. "Really? That's great! I promise I won't be annoying or anything. I just… I think you're cool, and I'd like to be friends, if that's okay."

I rolled my eyes, but there was a small part of me that felt a strange sense of relief too. Maybe, just maybe, letting someone in wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

As we started talking, I noticed Alessandro enter the library. He was alone this time, no entourage of admirers following him. He moved with the same aloofness that had become his trademark, his green eyes scanning the room with disinterest. my gaze flicked to him for only a second before I turned back to Olivia, but I couldn't help the small flicker of irritation that surfaced.

Alessandro De Berlusconi might have everyone else wrapped around his finger, but as far as I was concerned, he was just another arrogant jerk.

And I had no time for people like him.

I kept her focus on Olivia, trying my best to ignore Alessandro's presence in the library. Olivia, for her part, seemed genuinely excited to have even the slightest bit of my attention, filling the quiet moments with nervous chatter.

"I've been here for almost two years now, but it still feels like I'm new," Olivia said, playing with the edge of her notebook. "I transferred in after my freshman year, and I swear, it took forever to make friends."

I nodded absentmindedly, pretending to listen as my eyes drifted back to Alessandro. He was sitting a few tables away, head down in a book, completely indifferent to the world around him. It annoyed me how he managed to command attention even when he wasn't trying.

"Do you ever get that feeling?" Olivia asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What feeling?" I replied, realizing I had missed half of what Olivia had been saying.

"Like you're not really a part of anything. Like you're just… floating through, not really connected to anyone." Olivia's tone softened as if she were sharing a secret she had kept buried for too long.

I shifted in my seat. "I prefer it that way."

Olivia's eyes widened slightly, clearly taken aback. "Really?"

"Yeah," I said bluntly. "Less complicated. No drama."

Olivia hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. "But doesn't it get… lonely?"

I stiffened. Loneliness wasn't something I liked to acknowledge, let alone talk about. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I just shrugged.

The silence between us stretched awkwardly, but Olivia didn't push further. She glanced down at her notebook, as if trying to figure out what to say next, before perking up again. "You've heard about Alessandro, right?"

My lips tightened into a thin line. "Hard to avoid it."

Olivia laughed softly. "Yeah, he's kind of… everywhere lately. I've heard he's really good at football. Like, insanely good. They're already talking about making him captain."

I scoffed. "Of course they are."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "You don't like him?"

"I don't even know him," I replied sharply, my irritation flaring. "But I don't need to. Guys like him are all the same—arrogant, full of themselves, and they get everything handed to them."

Olivia blinked, taken aback by my sudden outburst. "I mean… he does seem kind of distant. I've never really seen him talk to anyone."

"Because he thinks he's too good for everyone," I muttered under my breath, my gaze flicking toward Alessandro again. He hadn't moved, still engrossed in his book, completely unaware of the conversation happening about him.

Olivia gave me a thoughtful look, but she didn't push the subject further. Instead, she tried to steer the conversation back to something lighter. "Well, maybe he'll surprise us. People aren't always what they seem."

I remained unconvinced. I had dealt with enough people like Alessandro in my life to know exactly what kind of person he was. And I wasn't interested in giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Just as I was about to respond, my phone buzzed again. My stomach clenched as I saw my father's name flash on the screen. I hesitated, knowing full well what kind of message awaited me, but there was no avoiding it.

With a heavy sigh, I unlocked my phone and read the message:

"You better not be wasting your time at that stupid school! You think you're smarter than me? You're nothing! Just like your mother. Worthless. You'll never be anything without me."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, even though I had read similar messages countless times before. It was the same routine—anger, belittlement, control. Yet, no matter how many times he sent them, they still stung.

My face hardened as I locked the phone, shoving it back into my pocket. I could feel Olivia's eyes on me, but I didn't want to explain. Not now. Not ever.

"Everything okay?" Olivia asked quietly, her voice full of concern.

My hands curled into fists under the table. "Fine."

"You sure? You look—"

"I said I'm fine," I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut through the air. I immediately regretted it, but I couldn't help the way my temper flared when my father was involved. I remembered how she said the same thing when my father texted, it was annoying. I wanted to say sorry but, the words got stuck in my throat as I couldn't bring myself to say it. this is why I never wanted to let anyone in, they always try and dig up in your business, when all you want to do is be left alone.

Olivia flinched but didn't press the issue. She nodded, her expression softening with an understanding I didn't ask for. "Okay. If you ever want to talk… I'm here."

I didn't respond, my mind still buzzing with the hateful words from my father's message. I wasn't sure why Olivia even bothered. Most people would have given up by now.

The library seemed quieter now, the noise from earlier fading into the background as my thoughts swirled. I stole another glance at Alessandro, wondering how someone could seem so unaffected by everything around them. Did he have his own demons, or was he just that cold?

Later that day, as I made my way across campus, I couldn't help but notice Alessandro again. This time, he was standing on the edge of the football field, surrounded by several players and coaches. They all looked at him like he was some kind of star, even though he hadn't been at Hawthorne for more than a couple of weeks.

I lingered by the bleachers, watching the scene unfold. Alessandro didn't seem fazed by the attention—he never did. He stood there, tall and composed, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the coach. The other players were joking around, laughing and shouting, but Alessandro barely acknowledged them. He was detached, aloof, like none of it mattered to him.

It irritated me more than I cared to admit. How could someone be so indifferent to everything? Didn't he care about anything? About anyone?

As I watched, one of the players clapped Alessandro on the back, clearly trying to get a reaction. Alessandro barely glanced at him before stepping away, his face remaining impassive. The player laughed, but there was a hint of unease in his expression, as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of the new guy.

I shook my head, turning away from the scene. Alessandro was the last person I wanted to waste my energy on. He was already the center of attention, and it wouldn't be long before he became the golden boy of Hawthorne College.

But as I walked away, a nagging thought crept into my mind. Alessandro was an enigma, and while I hated to admit it, there was something about him that didn't quite add up.

I couldn't stand him, but there was something unsettling about the way he carried himself, the way he seemed so detached from everything. It was almost like he was hiding something—or maybe he just didn't care.

Either way, I had a feeling this wasn't the last time their paths would cross. And I wasn't looking forward to it.