Chapter 5

After that public blowout, my name blew up on campus all over again. Everywhere I walked, eyes followed me.

Whenever I had a quiet moment, I couldn't help but wonder: Mason, what are you really after?

If this is just a game to you, pick someone else. I don't have the luxury to play along.

Why have you spent all these months refusing to let me go?

I originally assumed his interest would burn out in a week or two. But half the semester slipped by, and he was still hovering by my side, relentless as ever.

I finally agreed to be his girlfriend on an ordinary Tuesday at noon.

Classes let out at twelve, and the dining hall was a sea of people.

I carried my tray around in circles, unable to find an open chair.

Just as I was debating whether to box it up and head back to the dorm, Mason waved at me from across the room. "Elena! Over here!"

He was beaming with pure enthusiasm. Even though he had already finished his own lunch, he had gone back to the premium hot bar, loaded a tray with expensive carved roast meats and imported vegetables, and dumped the entire thing onto my plate.

Those were the dishes I never dared to order.

The premium line charged by the ounce and added up fast; I usually stuck to the budget combo meal - cheap, filling, and bland.

The atmosphere was completely mundane, but out of nowhere, an impulse seized me. I looked up and asked him flatly, "Mason, why have you spent so long chasing me?"

Hearing such a blunt question caught him off guard. He let out a low, rakish chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why do you think? Because I'm into you, obviously."

He leaned in across the table. "After all this time... haven't you felt a single spark?"

I looked at him for three seconds. "Okay. I'll go out with you."

A triumphant grin broke across Mason's handsome face. "Elena, you are officially the hardest girl I've ever had to chase."

Once we were official, Mason flaunted our relationship with zero restraint.

And for a while, I genuinely felt loved. I desperately hoped it wasn't just my imagination playing tricks on me.

Whenever it rained, he would show up at the library with an umbrella, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to walk me back.

The compact umbrella was small, so he would deliberately tilt it over my head. By the time we reached my dorm, his outside shoulder would be completely soaked through.

Whenever his schedule allowed, he would sit through my boring elective lectures with me. When I finished my grueling 800-meter fitness test, he was waiting at the finish line to catch me before I collapsed.

When my period cramps were unbearable, he brought me warm ginger tea and heating pads.

In crowded dining lines, he would pull me securely in front of him, shielding me from the shoving crowd.

After class, he dragged me to the arcade to play claw machines. Growing up, I had never had the spare change for frivolous things like that.

Standing beside the glowing machine, he nudged me with cocky charm. "Which plushie do you want? I'll get it for you."

His words made me freeze. In my entire twenty-one years of life, no one had ever simply asked me what I wanted.

Mason was actually terrible at the claw machine. He had zero technique, burning through fifty dollars only to finally snag a lopsided, hideous stuffed caterpillar.

When I told him to stop, he stubbornly refused.

The arcade attendant, thrilled by such a high-rolling customer, grinned at me. "Your boyfriend treats you like a queen. You're super lucky."

I reached out and tugged his sleeve. "Mason, let's just go."

He was in the heat of the moment, annoyed that he had wasted so much cash without winning a decent prize, so he ignored me.

I immediately turned on my heel and walked away.

He panicked, instantly abandoning the machine to sprint after me, grabbing my hand and falling into step beside me.

A guy who had always been lazy and irresponsible started spending late nights with me in the library. Most of the time, I was buried in textbooks while he dozed off on his crossed arms, but he always walked me back to my dorm afterward.

Under the shadow of the tall oak tree outside my dorm, we shared warm hugs and sweet, breathless kisses.

Seeing how exhausted I was prepping for grad school entrance exams, he gently ruffled my hair one night.

"Don't kill yourself over this. Even if you don't get in, who cares? I'll just take care of you for the rest of your life."

He knew how hard I was studying for the exams.

Words like that, whether real or empty promises, were impossible for any girl in my shoes not to fall for.

For a moment, everyone on campus believed the notorious playboy had finally hung up his jersey.

Mason Vance, the heir who had rotated through countless beauties, was actually settling down with an unremarkable orphan.

Even I caught myself marveling at how surreal it all felt, allowing myself to briefly sink into the warmth.

Yet deep down, I never knew how long his affection would last.

What he felt wasn't even necessarily love. More accurately, it was just intense passion.

When I submitted my initial college applications years ago, my sole priority had been staying near Grandma, so I strictly chose local state schools where I could commute home on weekends.

Though I hated to think about it, Grandma wouldn't be around forever. Eventually, I would have to walk this road alone.

The job market was brutal, and credential inflation was terrifying. A basic bachelor's degree barely opened any doors.

I needed to fight for my own future.

I had to be ready for the day when I would have to survive entirely on my own, with no safety net.

Mason had originally joined the student club solely because of me.

Recently, though, I noticed he was getting awfully close to an upperclassman in the club.

Whenever she spoke to him, her eyes sparkled with blatant flirtation.

When Mason picked up an iced latte for me, he started bringing one for her, too.

We were all adults. Nobody was blind to what was happening.