Michael slammed his bedroom door the moment he stepped inside. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed, closing his eyes in a desperate bid for a nap to quiet his racing mind. But sleep was a ghost. He tried playing some lo-fi tracks to soothe his nerves, but the melody only seemed to sharpen the dull throb behind his eyes.
His phone vibrated again. Marcus. This time, Michael didn't hesitate to answer. "Hello?" he murmured.
"Why are you whispering? Are you hiding someone in there?" Marcus's voice crackled with typical curiosity.
"No, I'm alone. I just don't feel like being loud."
"Fair enough, dude. Did you see my message about the research?"
Michael stiffened. It was that very message that had sent him crawling back to the residence halls, only to be publicly rebuffed. The memory triggered a sharp, involuntary groan.
"Are you okay, bro?" Marcus asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
Michael caught himself. "Yeah, fine. Just stubbed my toe," he lied smoothly. "So... how are you handling the assignment?"
Michael knew Marcus wasn't a genius. His friend hovered in the mid-range of the grading scale and usually didn't break a sweat over daily homework, though he never actually failed. It was Marcus's grit—his sheer determination to grind through textbooks to pass—that Michael respected.
"I'm hitting the books today so I have something to turn in tomorrow," Marcus said. "I assume Tia already has yours covered, as usual?"
Michael rubbed his eyes, his voice dropping an octave. "Not this time."
"What do you mean?"
"She refused. Flat out. In fact, she told me she's never helping me again."
"Ouch. That's rough, man. Can you pull it together and do it yourself?"
"I don't think so," Michael sighed, the weight of his own laziness pressing down on him. "I'm exhausted, and it's too late to start that kind of research now."
Marcus paused, surprised by Michael's defeatist tone. "Look, I can save you a copy of mine? It might not be an 'A,' but it's a pass."
Michael hesitated. He didn't trust Marcus's academic rigor; he was used to the perfection Tia provided. Deep down, a spark of pure arrogance remained. He was convinced that once Tia's "little tantrum" blew over, she'd cave. "Don't worry about it, bro. Tia will come around. She'll have a copy for me tomorrow."
"What if she doesn't? This feels different, Mike. She's never said no before."
"She's just in a mood," Michael said with forced confidence. "When she calms down, she'll realize she can't stay mad at me. I'll see you tomorrow."
He hung up and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. His gaze fell on a stray Valentine's card tucked under his alarm clock—one Tia had given him months ago. He picked it up, staring at the handwriting he used to ignore. For a split second, he felt a phantom tug at his heart, but he quickly smothered it. He crumpled the card and flicked it into the trash, just as he had done with every other gift she'd ever carefully chosen for him.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," Michael called.
Jerry peeked inside, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. "I'm really sorry, Michael. I didn't mean to get under your skin earlier."
Michael looked at his younger brother. He wasn't one to hold grudges against his siblings; as the eldest, he felt like it was his duty to bond with his siblings. "It's fine. I already knew you were the most annoying person in this house," Michael teased.
They both laughed, the tension in the room evaporating.
"So, we're cool?" Jerry asked.
"Yeah, we're cool."
"Good. Because that means I can do this!" Jerry lunged forward, ruffled Michael's hair into a bird's nest, and bolted out the door.
Michael's genuine laughter echoed through the hallway. "I'll get you for that, Jerry!" For a moment, the weight of the "Tia problem" felt a little lighter.
*****
Back at the dorms, Tia was grappling with her own ghosts. She wasn't used to being "the mean girl," but the memories of the cliff and the hospital bed acted as a shield against her guilt. She scrolled through her phone, looking for a distraction, when she stumbled upon a candid photo of Michael she'd taken months ago.
In her past life, she had used it as her wallpaper, staring at it until her eyes ached. "He really is handsome here," she whispered, a lingering trace of the old attraction fluttering in her chest.
She caught herself instantly. Stop it. "I don't care how dreamy he looks. There are plenty of guys out there who are twice the man he is—and one day, I'll find someone who actually deserves me."
Suddenly, a loud alarm blared from her phone. It was a reminder she'd set weeks ago: Help Michael with Research Paper.
"I don't need this anymore," she muttered, deleting the notification with a satisfying swipe. It felt like a physical chain snapping. She opened her bedside drawer and pulled out a small velvet box containing matching necklaces she had bought for them.
In her past life, Michael had told her the gifts were "too perfect to wear" and that he kept them in a safe like "treasures." She realized now he was just embarrassed to be seen with anything she gave him.
"I'm so glad I never gave him these," she said, clutching the silver chains. "I'll save these for someone who actually knows how to be a friend."
The door swung open, and Clara marched in, balanced precariously under a stack of library books. "Hello, roomie! Did you miss me?"
"Of course I did, you bookworm! You spent all day in the stacks and left me to die of boredom."
"I'm sorry!" Clara pouted playfully. "But I had to go the library, I know you wouldn't want me to fail."
Tia laughed. She decided it was time to be honest. "Michael came to see me today."
Clara dropped her books onto the bed, her eyes wide. "He did? Wow. Maybe the 'cold shoulder' is actually working. Does he finally like you?"
"No," Tia sighed. "He just wanted me to do his assignment. Again. And I told him where to shove it."
Clara erupted into a fit of laughter. "Wait, he drove all the way here just to ask for homework help?" When Tia nodded, Clara's laughter redoubled. "I am so happy you finally came to your senses!"
"What do you mean?"
Clara sat beside her, her expression turning serious. "Tia, you were killing yourself for that guy. You bought him everything, did his work, and I never saw him give you so much as a candy bar in return. It broke my heart. When I tried to tell you, you'd just say 'love is sacrifice.' I'm just glad that phase is over."
She pulled Tia into a fierce, rib-cracking hug.
"Clara... can't... breathe..." Tia wheezed.
Clara let go, grinning. "I'm sorry! I'm just proud of you. I hope you gave him a piece of your mind."
"I definitely did."
Tia looked at her roommate, feeling a wave of gratitude. In her first life, she had been so obsessed with Michael and Stella that she had treated Clara like an afterthought. She wouldn't make that mistake again. This time, she was going to cherish the people who actually stood by her.