Chapter 4: Blood, Smoke, and Love Triangles

Back at my off-campus apartment, I changed and took a shower. I’m a bit of a neat freak, and walking around covered in sticky cream was driving me nuts.

The hot water eased the tension out of my shoulders, and I let myself linger, scrubbing away the day. The small bathroom filled with steam, the air thick with the scent of lavender shampoo. Outside, my phone buzzed on the sink, more comments waiting.

When I walked into the living room, Caleb handed me a shopping bag.

I blinked in confusion.

He raised an eyebrow. "Open it."

Inside was a dress—exactly the same as the one that got ruined.

The fabric shimmered in the evening light, tags still attached, like a do-over I didn’t ask for.

I looked at him, surprised. "Why are you giving me this?"

Before he could answer, the comments exploded:

[He’s giving her the dress so she won’t pick on the main girl again, obviously!]

[Looking back, the male lead started protecting the main girl this early on. I’m shipping this couple so hard!]

Caleb looked at me, the light catching in his eyes—so bright it was almost blinding.

"Didn’t you really like that dress?"

The comments were still going wild. I smiled. "Thanks."

And for a split second, it was just the two of us again, the world quiet, no storylines or commentary. I wished it could last.

---

Later, I learned from the comments that there was more fallout from the coffee shop incident.

[It’s all the side girl’s fault! The manager found out and fired the main girl.]

[Now the main girl has to work at a sketchy BBQ shack. I’m so worried about her.]

[Someone’s harassing the main girl again—get lost, you creep!]

[Don’t worry, the male lead’s here. This is the classic scene where the hero saves his girl.]

With the comments screaming, I walked to the barbecue stand on the edge of town.

The place was all neon beer signs, picnic tables sticky with old barbecue sauce, and the sweet, smoky tang of ribs in the air. A couple of frat guys were arguing over cornhole in the corner. A summer night buzzing with cicadas, kids on bikes riding past, the low thump of hip-hop from someone’s open car door.

I looked up to see Caleb’s jacket stained with blood, his face cold as he punched someone.

Natalie’s hair was a mess, her eyes red as she hid behind him.

In the chaos, someone tried to sneak up on Caleb from behind.

Natalie screamed.

I stepped forward and kicked the attacker away.

Caleb turned, surprised. "Aubrey?"

I didn’t answer—just held out my hand. He got it, and handed me a beer bottle.

A second later, the bottle shattered over the attacker’s head.

It was messy, desperate, and just a little bit wild—the kind of scene you’d only see in a college town on a Friday night, where everything feels a little dangerous but also alive.

In the middle of the fight, Caleb explained quickly:

"These jerks were harassing the staff. When they refused, things got physical, so I stepped in."

"Mm," I replied, grabbing another attacker and twisting his arm behind his back. He screamed.

The scene got even messier. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone swing a metal pipe at Caleb.

I shouted, "Watch out!"

My pulse hammered as glass shattered behind me. Someone shoved me, and I caught myself on a splintered table. For a second, I felt alive—scared, sure, but alive.

Everything seemed to slow down. Just as the pipe was about to hit Caleb, a small figure darted in front of him.

The crack of metal on flesh echoed. Natalie crumpled, and for a heartbeat, the whole world went silent—no music, no shouting, just the ragged sound of her breathing.

He turned, shock flashing in his eyes. Natalie’s face twisted in pain. Just as she was about to collapse, Caleb caught her.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her eyes lost focus, but with the last of her strength, she whispered three words:

"Ca… leb… Brooks…"

And fainted.

After I finished off the last of the thugs, I flicked blood from my sleeve and looked up.

The beautiful girl lay unconscious in his arms, her face soft and peaceful.

He looked down at her, his usually flirtatious eyes filled with confusion and helplessness.

It was like an invisible wall had risen between us.

And I was just a bystander to this gut-wrenching love story.

I watched the love story unfold, popcorn in my lap, knowing I’d never be the girl on the poster.