16. Alex

ALEX

THEN – FRESHMAN YEAR – APRIL

I trudge along the dimly lit campus path, each step feeling like lead in my shoes. Failure hangs over me, a suffocating cloud I can’t shake. The campus security officer’s voice rings in my ears, cold and unyielding. “Disperse immediately or face disciplinary action.”

God, what a joke. All those sleepless nights, the frantic poster-making sessions, the speeches I’d practiced until my throat was raw—for what? We didn’t even make a dent. The project will plow ahead, bulldozing the fragile ecosystem we fought to protect. And for what? A processing plant? Surely there was a better site for this to be built, if they just spent a little more time?—

I’m so lost in my spiral of self-pity that I nearly slam into someone. I look up, an apology on my lips, when my stomach drops. Freddie . Because, of course, it’s Freddie. The world clearly thinks I haven’t suffered enough today.

His familiar scent—a mix of vanilla and amber—engulfs me, and for a split second, I’m back in his bed, wrapped in his arms. The memory hits me like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless and angry. Angry at him, angry at myself, angry at the whole damn world.

We haven’t spoken much this month, which feels wrong. He’s been a fixture in my life at UMS, a constant presence, like the mountains watching over us.

Only now, those mountains have crumbled, leaving nothing but a pile of rubble.

I’ve been using our debate about the protest as an excuse to avoid him, but deep down, I know the truth. It’s so much worse than a simple disagreement.

Turns out, I don’t have magical powers to sleep with a guy and “get it out of my system.” I fell for Freddie. Hard.

It wasn’t just the sex—though that was more than I ever thought it could be. It was the way he held me after, the soft kisses he planted on my forehead, the whispered jokes that made me laugh even as I was coming down from the high. I’ve never felt so seen, so understood. And that scared the hell out of me.

So I did what any mature, self-respecting woman would do: I ran.

Turns out, it’s a lot easier to pretend to be angry at him than admit I’m falling for him. Avoid, avoid, avoid—my new mantra.

My mother would have a meltdown if she knew. I can almost hear her now, blabbering on about facing your fears and hashing everything out in the open. Sorry, Mom. Not happening. I’d rather swallow glass than admit to Freddie—or myself—how I really feel.

“Alex?” His voice is all concern and surprise, and it grates on my last nerve. “What’s wrong?”

I try to brush past him, but suddenly, it’s like a dam breaks inside me. A choked sob escapes my lips, and I cover my face with my hands, mortified to be falling apart in front of him, of all people.

To my shock, Freddie doesn’t bolt. Instead, he gently steers me to a nearby bench, his hand on my back sending unwelcome tingles up my spine. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“The protest,” I croak out, hating how weak I sound. “It was a complete failure. We couldn’t even get started before security shut us down. Nobody even seemed to care.”

“Alex,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “Sometimes change doesn’t happen the way we expect. There are other ways to?—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, standing abruptly. “Don’t tell me to work within the system or compromise. That’s what everyone said about Lake Marshall, and look what happened there. Look what happened to Emma.”

Freddie’s expression softens. “What happened to her is fucking awful, Alex, truly. But I looked into this project, and it doesn’t seem like there is any possible way it could risk harm to human life. Sometimes we have to find middle ground?—”

“Middle ground?” I laugh bitterly. “There is no middle ground when it comes to destroying ecosystems. You either care or you don’t. And clearly, you don’t.”

I know he isn’t to blame. I know he’s right. But I’m hurt, and he’s there, and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” he snaps, frustration bleeding into his voice. “Caring doesn’t mean rushing in without a plan. It doesn’t mean ignoring the economic impact on local families. Real change takes time?—”

“Save it,” I interrupt, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t need a lecture on pragmatism from someone who’s already planning his cowardly corporate sellout.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Freddie’s face goes still, then flushes with anger.

“A coward?” he says, voice quiet. “You think it’s brave to stand on a box and shout at people? To risk your future on grand gestures that accomplish nothing? That’s not bravery, Alex. That’s just… childish.”

“Like a child?” I scoff, but my voice cracks. “The world is dying, Freddie. But I guess that doesn’t matter as long as you get your paycheck in the end.”

I turn and walk away before he can respond, each step feeling heavier than the last. I can feel his eyes on my back, and a traitorous part of me aches for him to call out, to apologize, to say anything to fix this.

But he remains silent.

The cool night air does nothing to soothe the burning in my chest. I reach for the pendant around my neck and rip it off. I failed.

Doubts creep in, and I wonder for a moment if Freddie is right, but I push them aside, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms. I have to believe I’m right about this. I have to. Because if I’m not… if Freddie’s right… then what the hell am I even fighting for?