Chapter 3: I Flirted Too Hard

The next day, I tested the coincidence.

"You left me to die," I complained into my headset as Northstar's knight cut through three enemies before reaching mine.

"You had a shield."

"For half a second."

"You survived."

"Barely."

"You're dramatic."

"You like it."

Northstar went quiet.

Across the room, Lucas sat at his desk with an architecture textbook open in front of him. His headphones hung around his neck. He had not turned a page in ten minutes.

"Do I?" Northstar asked.

I made my character spin in a slow circle. "You keep coming back."

"That isn't an answer."

"Fine. You like when I need you."

The silence stretched.

"Be careful, Marigold," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I do."

Lucas's pencil snapped.

He stared at the broken wood in his hand as if it had betrayed him.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

For the next three days, I became a worse person.

Not cruel. Just curious.

I called Northstar handsome despite never seeing his face. I asked if he liked my voice when it got quiet. I sent him a photo of my knee beneath the library desk and said I was bored.

He replied with a picture of a long hand beside a sketchbook, graphite dark across the thumb.

Lucas had the same scar near the base of his thumb.

I enlarged the image until it blurred. Then I closed it, furious with myself for wanting proof I hadn't earned.

Friday dinner gave me a new chance to be reckless.

"Party by the river tonight," Derek announced, looking at Lucas. "You should come. Get out of the cave for once."

Lucas shook his head.

"What about you, Cole?" Derek asked. "Meet a real person instead of marrying your computer."

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth.

"I have a boyfriend," I said.

Miles coughed into his soda. Derek laughed.

"Sure you do."

"I do."

Lucas went still.

I made myself look at him. His expression was blank. His eyes were not.

"You never mentioned that," he said.

"You never asked."

"How long?"

The question was too sharp for a casual dinner.

"A few months," I said. "He's sweet."

"Does he go here?"

"Maybe."

"What's his name?"

"He doesn't like labels."

Lucas pushed his chair back. "Right."

He left with his food untouched.

Miles waited until the bedroom door shut. "Did you just pick a fight with Lucas?"

"No."

Derek smiled into his drink. "Sure looked like it."

That night, Northstar pulled me into a private voice channel before we played.

"Are you seeing someone?" he asked.

I smiled in the dark. "Why?"

"Answer me."

"You sound jealous."

"Ethan."

He used my real name only when he was serious.

"No," I said. "I'm not seeing anyone."

His exhale was loud enough to make me laugh.

"Then why did you say you had a boyfriend?"

My smile disappeared.

"Who told you that?"

Northstar did not answer.

Water ran behind the closed bathroom door. Lucas had gone in fifteen minutes earlier.

"You said it in the dining hall," Northstar replied too carefully.

Every nerve in my body woke up.

"You were there?"

"I—"

He stopped himself.

I stood so fast my chair hit the wall.

"Northstar?"

"Forget it."

"No. You heard me in the dining hall?"

"Marigold, don't make this into—"

"I'm in Cedar Hall," I said, barely breathing. "Where are you?"

Nothing answered except a sudden, careful silence.

Then, from behind the bathroom door, Lucas's phone began to ring.

The same ringtone that was playing in my headphones.

For three seconds, I could not move.

Then the call ended. The water shut off. My screen showed Northstar still connected, his microphone muted now.

"Ethan?" Lucas called through the door. "Can you grab my phone?"

I looked at the device vibrating on his desk. My own headset pressed warm against one ear.

Northstar's username glowed green in the private channel.

"Yeah," I said, though my voice barely worked.

I picked up Lucas's phone. The caller ID showed a number, not a name. The lock screen reflected my face—pale, startled, smiling despite myself.

"One second," I told him.

Northstar remained silent.

So did I.

But I carried the phone to the bathroom door with a new kind of certainty twisting through me: the boy who had heard every secret I was too embarrassed to say out loud was standing only a few feet away, separated from me by painted wood, steam, and one impossible lie.

"You okay?" Lucas asked.

His voice was muffled by the door, but I knew its shape now. I knew the way it softened when he was worried. I knew the half-second pause before he said my name.

"Fine," I said.

The word came out too high.

"You don't sound fine."

In my headset, Northstar unmuted. A faint breath came through the channel. No words.

My grip tightened around the phone.

Lucas tried the handle. I stepped back so fast that my shoulder hit the wall.

"It's locked," he said.

"Yeah. Because you're in there."

There was a pause.

"Ethan."

My name, again. The same name, in the same voice, from two places at once.

I wanted to demand an explanation. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to put my palm against the door and ask whether he had been hearing me whisper good night to him from only six feet away every night.

Instead I said, "Your phone is on the desk."

"Can you bring it?"

I looked at the screen. The private call remained open. Northstar's status flickered green. Lucas had to be looking at a second device, or he had left the call running before he showered. Either possibility made my heartbeat stumble.

"Sure," I said.

I opened the door only wide enough to slide the phone through. Steam curled around my wrist. Lucas's fingers closed over mine for one accidental second—warm, damp, unmistakably real.

He did not notice my shock. He only said, "Thanks."

The door shut.

I stood there with my headphones on and listened to Northstar's breathing until the call disconnected.