Chapter 205: Especially Not Nora

NORA’S POV

"Nora!" she exclaimed, closing her laptop with a sharp snap and setting it on the cushion beside her. "You’re finally back! How was Oakhaven?"

"Cold, peaceful, and full of carbs," I said with a laugh, shrugging off my winter coat. "Mom sent back walnut scones and cinnamon rolls. I brought half the tin for you."

"Your mother is an actual saint," Priya groaned, sinking back against the cushions. "I might cry."

I walked over to the desk, setting the smaller container of pastries next to her notebooks.

As I did, I took a deep breath.

I didn’t plan to corner her, or drop a legal cross-examination on my best friend.

But I was paying attention, and the first thing I noticed was her face.

Priya had claimed she suffered a debilitating, forty-eight-hour migraine that left her bedridden in a dark room.

But right now, her skin was radiant. Her cheeks had a healthy, rosy flush, her warm brown eyes were bright and rested, and there wasn’t a single shadow under her lower lids.

The second thing was the scent.

Under the faint smell of cafeteria tea, a hint of unfamiliar cologne hung in the air. It was a rich mix of sandalwood, cedar, and soft black pepper... masculine, high-end, and certainly not something from the campus store.

And then there was her phone.

It was lying face-down beneath the corner of her blue legal folder, completely out of plain sight.

"So," I said casually, leaning against the edge of my desk with my arms crossed, keeping my voice gentle and curious. "How was your Thanksgiving? Did that awful headache finally go away?"

Priya waved a hand dismissively, though her gaze flicked briefly toward the floor before rising back to meet mine.

"Oh, completely brutal at first," she said smoothly, leaning her head back against the futon frame. "I literally slept for thirty hours straight. Didn’t even wake up until Friday morning, which is why Bear lost his mind outside my door. By the time I walked in from the library stacks, he had already left that pot pie with the front desk RA. The poor girl looked traumatized... she said a giant defenseman in a flannel jacket had grilled her like an FBI agent."

"Bear means well," I smiled softly. "He was genuinely terrified you had passed out."

"I know, I know," Priya sighed, offering a small, slightly sheepish smile. "I texted him to thank him profusely. After that, I just ate the pie and plowed through reading. Boring, lonely, and thoroughly uneventful."

She held my gaze for a beat too long, her smile fixed in place like a witness holding her composure on the stand.

"Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better," I said evenly.

"Tell me about Knox," Priya quickly pivoted, leaning forward with sudden, eager enthusiasm. "Did he survive meeting your mom? Did he charm the entire town?"

I let her change the subject.

For the next hour, we chatted easily about Oakhaven, the high school bleachers, the bakery’s new stone-deck oven, and Mom’s endless parade of food.

Priya laughed in all the right places, teased me about Knox’s domestic side, and ate two of Mom’s walnut scones.

On the surface, everything looked completely normal.

Two roommates catching up after a holiday break... and deep down I hoped I was just over-thinking

By nine o’clock, the building had settled into an eerie quiet. Outside, a light flurry of snow drifted past our third-floor window, catching the glow of the amber streetlights below.

I stood in the narrow closet area, sorting through my duffel bag and folding my clean sweaters.

Behind me, Priya’s phone let out a single, muffled vibration against the desk.

She snatched up the device with lightning speed.

I picked up the stack of folded knit sweaters and turned out of the closet, padding softly across the worn carpet toward the wooden dresser right beside the futon.

My socks made zero sound against the floor.

Priya was completely hunched over her phone, her thumbs flying across the keyboard in a frantic blur. The blue glow of the display reflected off her face, illuminating a nervous, distracted flush on her cheeks.

She was biting her lower lip, so utterly lost in her screen that she hadn’t even heard me step out of the closet.

As I reached the dresser to slide open the top drawer, my gaze naturally drifted down past her shoulder.

The screen was glowing brightly in her lap.

At the bottom of the active chat, an incoming text bubble was clearly visible:

Can’t stop thinking about Thursday night.

Right beneath it, Priya’s thumbs finished typing out a reply in the draft box, her finger tapping the blue arrow to send:

We have to be careful. No one can know about us. Especially not Nora.

The message whooshed off the screen, delivering in a small blue bubble.

Right at that exact second, Priya caught the shadow of my presence standing beside the dresser. She let out a sharp gasp, practically leaping off the cushions.

With lightning reflexes, she slammed the phone face-down against her thigh, pressing both hands flat over the casing as if smothering a live grenade.

"Jesus, Bennett!" Priya choked out, her voice cracking in pure, unmasked panic. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! Don’t sneak up on me like that!"

I kept my expression completely smooth, resting the stack of sweaters inside the open drawer. "Sorry," I said mildly, keeping my tone light and unbothered. "Just putting away laundry. Who has you so jumpy that you’re about to fly through the ceiling?"

Priya forced a strained, high-pitched laugh, her knuckles turning white where they gripped the hidden phone against her leg.

"Nobody!" she blurted out quickly. "Just... my aunt in Connecticut. You know how she gets about train tickets for winter break. Nagging me about travel schedules. She just stresses me out."

"Right," I said quietly, sliding the drawer shut with a soft click. "Your aunt."

I walked back toward the closet area, the quiet room suddenly feeling ten degrees colder.

My knuckles gripped the edge of the wooden shelf, my pulse hammering wildly in my throat.

Priya was lying.

Her aunt hadn’t texted about an unforgettable Thursday night.

And those words on the screen had burned into my brain in searing, undeniable clarity.

No one can know about us.

Especially not Nora.

I stared straight ahead at the closet wall, my pulse racing wildly in my throat.

Priya hadn’t spent Thanksgiving alone in this dorm room. She hadn’t spent it sleeping off a migraine, and she hadn’t spent it reading alone in the library.

She was seeing someone.

And for some reason, she was hiding him from me. But why? Or is the someone a ’her’?