our feelings

Tessa's POV – The Morning After

The sun was high, casting golden streaks across the floor, but I felt nothing. No hunger. No warmth. Just the emptiness that had settled in my chest since last night.

"Tessa, you haven't eaten anything since morning. What's wrong?"

Her voice was gentle, cautious, as if she already knew something was off.

I didn't look up. I didn't want to meet her eyes. I knew what I'd see—concern, maybe even pity. And the one thing that hurts me the most? Worries. Worries from the people I care about. I don't want them to worry. Not about me.

So, I did what I do best. I shut down.

"Nothing," I muttered, my voice clipped.

Rude. I knew it was rude, but I didn't care. If I let even the smallest crack show, they'd start digging. And I wasn't ready for that.

Because truth be told, I wasn't okay.

I had spent the entire night replaying Daræy's words over and over in my head. Each sentence, each detail, each casual observation that he had thrown at me like it was just another piece of gossip.

I had never told him those things.

And yet, he knew.

He knew everything.

And he didn't even stop to think about how it would feel to hear my entire life story narrated back to me like some damn documentary.

I had spent so long burying my past, learning how to carry the weight of it without letting it crush me, and yet, in a few minutes, he had unearthed it all—carelessly, effortlessly.

And what hurt the most?

It wasn't that he knew. It was that he didn't care about my present.

Knowing my past was one thing. But caring about my present? That was something else entirely.

And he didn't.

Not once did he stop and think about how I might have felt hearing him piece together my failures, my struggles, my family's downfall like it was just another interesting fact.

It sucked.

God, it sucked.

And I wanted to tell him. I wanted to look him in the eyes and say, That little charade you pulled last night? It hurt me. And I hate you for it.

But I wouldn't.

Instead, I stayed silent. Letting the pain settle deep, letting it fester.

And I refused to eat.

My roommates noticed. Of course, they did. But they didn't push me. Not yet. Maybe they were waiting for me to break. Maybe they knew I would.

I stood up abruptly, grabbing my phone. "Hey, guys, I'm going out."

They looked up. "Where to?"

I hesitated for just a second. "CHS Auditorium."

They exchanged glances.

I already knew what they were thinking.

"I'm going to download a movie for like an hour, then watch it for another hour, and then I'll just wait for the reading group to come around," I said quickly.

One of them raised an eyebrow. "The reading group comes at 8 to 9, Tessa."

I shrugged, forcing my voice to stay even. "Yeah, I knew that."

But of course, I knew that.

I just… I had someone to meet before the reading group.

Not that I wanted to.

Not that I was ready to face him.

But I had to.

"There's someone I want to meet before the reading group finally arrives," I admitted.

Silence. Then a knowing smirk. "Ooooh, we know who that is."

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."

I wanted to laugh. Normally, I would have. Normally, I'd play along, throw a joke back, pretend like I wasn't bothered.

But today…

Today, the smile I gave them was fake.

And they knew it.

They saw right through it, but they chose not to call me out. They were waiting. Waiting for me to tell them the truth on my own terms.

I hated that they knew me so well.

I got up, went to the mirror, and stared at my reflection.

I looked… tired.

Not physically, but emotionally.

There was an ache behind my eyes, a dull weight on my shoulders that refused to lift no matter how many times I inhaled deeply.

I ran my fingers through my thick braids, adjusting them, as if fixing my hair could somehow fix the mess in my head.

Then, without another word, I turned and walked out.

The air outside was crisp, the sky a perfect shade of blue.

I wished I could appreciate it.

I wished I could pretend like today was just another normal day.

But it wasn't.

Because today, I was going to CHS.

And I was going to see Daræy.

And I didn't know what I was going to say to him yet.

But one thing was for sure—

I wasn't just going to sit there and pretend like last night didn't happen.

The walk to CHS felt longer than usual. Maybe it was the weight of my thoughts. Maybe it was the way my chest felt tight with unspoken words, with anger that had been simmering all day.

I wasn't hungry anymore. Not for food, not for an apology, not even for revenge.

But I was starving—for something else.

For an answer. For an explanation. For something that would make what he did last night make sense.

I waited.

Minutes stretched endlessly, but I didn't move. I didn't pace. I didn't fidget. I just waited.

And then, finally, he showed up.

The one person I had been waiting for all day.

The one person I had starved for.

The irony wasn't lost on me. I had spent the entire day refusing to eat, punishing myself over something he did, thinking it would somehow make me feel better. That maybe if I suffered just a little, it would even things out.

It didn't.

It just made me feel pathetic.

Because in the end, I was the only one losing.

I just wanted to get this over with.

I felt humiliated.

Insulted.

Why would he talk to me like that?

Why would he say such things, throwing my past at me like a fact sheet, as if it wasn't my life he was casually discussing?

Was he even thinking at all?

That question had burned through my mind all day, running on a loop. And while it played, I drowned myself in textbooks and PDFs, pouring over notes, memorizing every single detail. I read like my life depended on it, dissecting every concept until I could explain it backward.

Because tonight wasn't just about studying.

It was about proving a point.

I wanted to rub it in his face. I wanted to make sure he saw me—not the girl with two carryovers, not the spoiled brat people whispered about, but the girl who was damn well capable of getting her grades up without anyone's permission.

And he caught on fast.

His eyes never left me as I worked through the material, explaining everything with sharp precision, each word a carefully placed knife. I didn't stumble. I didn't hesitate. I owned that board, making sure he knew exactly what I was doing.

And he did.

I could see it in the way his expression shifted, how he kept trying to break through, trying to stop me.

"Tessa—"

I ignored him.

"Tessa, can we talk—?"

No.

Because he didn't give me a chance to explain myself last night. He didn't give me a chance to prove that I wasn't some failure he had already decided I was.

He didn't give me a chance to show him who I was.

So now?

Now, I wasn't giving him a chance either.

I hated this.

I hated that he thought he knew me so well when I felt like he didn't know me at all.

But here's the thing—maybe he did know me. Maybe that was the problem.

Maybe he had seen straight through me, through all my defenses, past the fake smiles and the I'm fine lies I told everyone else. Maybe that's why it hurt so much.

Because he wasn't entirely wrong.

And that stung like hell.

But I wasn't about to let that stop me.

I turned back to the board, my voice steady, my mind razor-sharp as I explained every last detail.

Then, finally, I turned to him.

"I hope that's good enough for you—to prove that I'm not a fool. That I'm brilliant."

I said it plainly, not wanting this conversation to drag on any longer. I just wanted to end it. End everything. Once and for all.

I grabbed my bag, ready to walk away, but before I could take another step, he stopped me.

His hand on my arm only fueled the fire already burning inside me. I was furious. And yet, he still had the nerve to hold me back?

I turned to face him, my eyes burning with anger.

"What? What? A dummy? Do I look like a dummy to you?"

"You think everyone who has a carryover is an idiot? That just because someone repeats a course once or twice, they're suddenly stupid?"

"You have no idea what that person has been through. You have no idea what's happened in their life. You have no idea what they're going through right now."

"So who are you to judge? You don't even give them a chance. You never give anyone a chance."

"Let me tell you something—my family isn't so broke that we can't afford to eat."

"We struggle, yeah. But that struggle is what makes us strong."

"And if you think being broke defines who I am, then you're dead wrong."

"I'm like this because I choose to be. Not because I lost everything."

"I could be arrogant and still be broke. What am I even saying? I'm not broke. And I'm not arrogant."

"You think you know me? Newsflash, Daræy—you don't."

"Not everyone is as easy to read as you think. And most of the time, when you try to read people based on their emotions, you get it completely wrong."

"I've always been this way. I'm only arrogant to people who refuse to acknowledge my sincerity. People like you."

Daræy finally spoke. "I'm sorry," he said.

His voice sounded sincere. But I wasn't buying it.

My expression didn't waver. "Saying sorry doesn't fix everything."

"You should think before you speak. You don't just get to throw words around carelessly, saying whatever you want to whoever you want."

"Just because I laugh and joke around doesn't mean I don't have feelings. I cry over small things, but not because I want anyone's pity. The only time I cry is for the people I actually care about."

"And if I do care about you, I'm willing to go to any length, make any sacrifice—just because it's you."

"Do you really think I would cry in public? Do you think I'd ever let people see me weak? See me hungry?"

"I can go an entire day without eating, and I wouldn't even care. I'd never cry in front of strangers. But when I'm with the people I love… I tend to act a little foolish. I lose my composure. I stop holding back. I allow myself to be free."

"And just because I let my guard down, you thought it was okay to hurt me with words?"

"You forgot the one thing I hate the most—humiliation. And now, every time I look at you, I feel humiliated. And that's not something I can just brush off."

"It won't be easy to get past this. And I won't be able to move on until after exams—until I prove to you that I'm not an idiot."

"I'm sorry, but we're not friends anymore."

Daræy's face fell. He was completely stunned. I could see it written all over him.

I turned my back on him and walked away.

But then, just as I was leaving, he said something. Something that stopped me in my tracks.

"I just wanted to study with you," he admitted. "But I went too far. I rushed ahead without thinking. I just… I just wanted to spend more time with you. It's not like I was trying to insult you. I just wanted your attention."

I froze.

"...What "