Chapter 5: Falling into you - New Variable - Some might be jealous!

Three months after the official "breakup", just another casual day in their student life… I mean a rich student life…

Vivian was grabbing her economics textbook when Tristan's voice cut through the hallway chatter.

"...completely obsessed with me. Some Sacred Heart girl practically threw herself at me at the charity gala." His laugh was sharp, performative. His eyes rolled around in arrogance till they accidentally came across Vivian. The volume of his mouth and his sarcasm tone went up all the way to the sky, "Not like our resident ice queen who probably thinks romance is just another market to analyze." He wasn't intended to do this at first, however, something about her - maybe her eyes, maybe her cold little pretty preppy face - made Tristan the gentleman wanted to tease a girl more than ever.

Vivian's grip tightened on her textbook. She should ignore him. Should walk away. Instead, she found herself spinning around.

"At least I don't have to pay for company at charity events," she said sweetly.

The hallway went quiet. Tristan's friends exchanged glances, suddenly very interested in their phones.

"Cute," Tristan said, pushing off from the lockers. "But we both know you're just bitter because you finally realized what everyone else already knew."

"Which is?" Her eyebrows were about to kiss.

"That underneath all that shiny armor, you're just another lonely girl who doesn't know how to be WANTED."

The words hit their mark, and Vivian felt her cheeks flame. "You're pathetic."

"Am I?" Tristan stepped closer, his voice dropping to that intimate tone he used to use when they were alone. "Or are you just mad that I figured out your secret?"

"What secret?" But even as she asked, Vivian was backing up, her shoulder hitting the wall of lockers. Tristan? One, two, three steps ahead keep coming towards her.

"That for all your talk about being above everyone else, you're desperate to be chosen. To be someone's first choice instead of their consolation prize."

"You're delusional boy—"

"Am I? Then why are you pressed against the wall looking like you want to either kiss me or kill me?"

"Hey?!!"

The observation was so accurate it made Vivian's breath catch. She was trapped between the lockers and Tristan's body, and the familiar scent of his cologne was making her remember things she'd rather forget. 

"Get away from me," she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction and trembling instead

"You don't want me to." His hand came up to rest against the locker beside her head. "That's your problem, Viv. You think too much instead of just feeling."

"Don't—"

But before she could finish the sentence, Tristan leaned closer, his lips almost brushing her ear, making Vivian as red as a tomato. "No wonder no guy has ever really wanted you. You're like a beautiful statue, perfect to look at but uhmhumm."

Vivian shoved hard against his chest, but Tristan was expecting it and caught her wrists.

"Let go of me!"

"Not until you admit it gurllll"

5 seconds before the "nuclear accident". Vivian's economics textbook, forgotten in her hand, swung upward as she struggled. Tristan dodged backward, his foot catching on someone's abandoned backpack. They went down together in a tangle of limbs and scattered papers.

Vivian landed on top of him, her hair falling like a curtain around their faces. Her hands braced against his chest. For a moment, they were frozen like that – breathing hard, staring at each other, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, his lush eyelashes. And him, only cool enough to swallow his faint down his neck.

The hallway erupted.

"Holy shit!"

"Are you getting this?"

"Vivian and Tristan —"

"Somebody's phone is definitely recording"

The sound of her name being whispered and giggled snapped Vivian back to reality. She scrambled off Tristan, her face burning as she saw the crowd that had gathered. Half the junior class was staring at them with undisguised fascination.

"This is not what it looks like," she said, but her voice sounded weak even to her own ears.

Tristan sat up slowly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His smile was lazy, satisfied and weird. "Isn't it though?"

Before Vivian could respond, the bell rang. Students began moving toward their classrooms, but the whispers followed her like a shadow. She grabbed her textbook and bag, her hands shaking with humiliation and rage.

"See you around, Viv," Tristan called after her, and she could hear the smugness in his voice.

—--------------------------------

As she hurried toward Professor Martinez's classroom, Vivian caught fragments of conversation:

"...totally still has feelings for him…"

".....practically climbed him right there in the hallway…"

"so desperate"

She slid into her usual seat in the front row, pulled out her laptop, and tried to ignore the way conversations died when she entered rooms now. Unsurprisingly, she was not affected at all because she is an Alcott and the Alcotts never shale. The social fallout from her public war declaration was still spreading through the school like ripples in a pond.

But now there was something else spreading too – the image of her on top of Tristan Vale, looking for all the world like she'd fallen right back into his trap.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

Advanced Economics was Vivian's favorite class, mostly because it was the one place at Whitmore where she could let her brain actually work instead of just going through the motions. Professor Martinez had a way of presenting complex theories that made even the most privileged students realize how little they actually understood about the world beyond their trust funds.

Vivian slid into her usual seat in the front row, pulled out her laptop, and tried to ignore the way conversations died when she entered rooms now. The social fallout from her public war declaration was still spreading through the school like ripples in a pond.

"Miss Alcott," Professor Martinez said as he arranged his papers. "I trust you've finished the analysis on emerging market volatility?"

"Of course." Vivian opened her laptop and tried not to notice when Tristan walked in with his usual crew. He took a seat three rows behind her, far enough away to make his point but close enough that she could feel his presence like an itch she couldn't scratch.

The classroom filled with the low hum of students settling in, laptops opening, the rustle of papers. Normal sounds. Comfortable sounds. Until they weren't…

"Sorry I'm late, Professor. I was getting my schedule sorted."

The voice was unfamiliar, but something about it made Vivian look up from her screen. The speaker was standing in the doorway, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

He was tall, with dark brown hair and olive skin that suggested Mediterranean heritage. His eyes – dark brown, almost black, and sharp with intelligence but sharp like cupid's arrow hitting her heart so hard. But she was able to keep cool - she is an Alcott anyway.

"No problem at all," Professor Martinez said with a smile. "Class, we have a new student joining us. Alexander Kane, transfer from California. Alex, why don't you find a seat and we'll get you caught up."

Alexander Kane. Even his name sounded different from the Prestons and Ashfords and Sterlings that populated their social circle. Vivian watched as his gaze swept the classroom, taking in the sea of perfectly groomed faces and designer accessories with the kind of calculated assessment that suggested he wasn't impressed.

Their eyes met for just a second, and Vivian felt something electric shoot through her chest. He smiled, like they were sharing a private joke.Then the moment passed, and he was moving toward an empty seat in the middle row. Not the back, where the slackers sat, and not the front, where the obvious grade-grubbers claimed territory. Right in the middle, like he was perfectly comfortable being exactly where he chose to be.

"Today we're discussing the impact of cryptocurrency on traditional banking systems," Professor Martinez announced, pulling Vivian's attention back to the lesson. "Miss Alcott, since you were so thorough in your preparation, why don't you start us off?"

Vivian launched into her analysis, her voice steady and confident as she outlined the key points of market disruption and regulatory challenges. It was familiar territory, the kind of discussion where she could shine without really trying.

But she was acutely aware of the new student listening, and when she glanced in his direction, she found him watching her with genuine interest.

"Interesting points," he said when she finished, and Professor Martinez nodded for him to continue. "But aren't you assuming that traditional banking institutions will adapt to cryptocurrency rather than being replaced by it entirely?"

The question was good – really good. It showed he'd not only been listening but thinking several steps ahead. Vivian felt a flicker of excitement that had nothing to do with romantic interest and everything to do with finding someone who could actually keep up with her intellectually.

"I think you're overestimating how quickly established institutions can pivot," she said, turning in her seat to face him directly. "Legacy systems are like massive ships – they might be powerful, but they can't change direction quickly."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're underestimating how motivated they become when their survival is threatened." His smile was challenging now, and Vivian felt her pulse quicken. "Sometimes disruption forces evolution faster than anyone expects."

They stared at each other for a moment, the rest of the class forgotten. Professor Martinez was grinning like he'd just discovered buried treasure.

"Well then," the professor said, rubbing his hands together. "I think we're going to have some very interesting discussions this semester."

From three rows back, Vivian could feel Tristan's eyes boring into the back of her head. But for the first time in days, she didn't care what he was thinking.

/Maybe, from this very treasury moment, he should start to be the one who has to care about what she is thinking=))/