29. Alex

ALEX

NOW – SOPHOMORE YEAR – MAY

I ’m picking at my yogurt parfait in the cafeteria when a familiar voice makes me tense.

“Hey, Alex. Nice work with Donovan the other day.”

I look up to find Eric hovering by my table, all khakis and carefully combed hair. He looks exactly like he did that night—same wire-rimmed glasses, same arrogant energy. The Eric who’d made my heart flutter with his perfectly timed puns and quick-witted comments. The Eric who’d tried to pressure me into sex after the first date.

But something’s different. Not him—me. Because instead of the usual hot flush of shame or anger, I feel... nothing. Actually, looking at him now, I wonder what I ever saw that was so special. Sure, he’s cute in that studious way, with his perpetually wrinkled button-downs and thick-rimmed glasses. But the flutter I used to get when he’d quote environmental regulations? Gone. The way I’d convinced myself his fumbling was endearing? Embarrassing, honestly.

“Thanks,” I say, surprised to find I actually mean it. “The presentation went well.”

Eric shifts from foot to foot. “Listen, I wanted to apologize. For... you know. That night. I was a real dick.”

“Yeah, you were.” I meet his eyes steadily. “But thanks for the apology.”

He laughs nervously. “Probably should’ve apologized sooner, but, uh... Donovan made it pretty clear I should stay away from you.”

I nearly choke on my granola. “What?”

“Yeah, he cornered me after that night. Said if I ever upset you again, I’d regret it.” Eric runs a hand through his hair. “Guy’s pretty scary when he wants to be. Though I guess it worked out for him in the end.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he got the girl, didn’t he? And now the EcoTech job...” He trails off at my blank expression. “Oh. You hadn’t heard?”

My stomach drops. “Heard what?”

“He made the shortlist for their graduate program. It’s all over the department—Dr. Reeves has been bragging about getting his star student in.”

My fingers find the empty space where Emma’s pendant should be. The broken chain is still sitting in my jewelry box, where I put it the night I ripped it off after our fight. Every time I think about getting it fixed, something stops me. Like maybe I don’t deserve to wear it anymore—haven’t lived up to what Emma believed I could be.

The irony hits me like a physical blow. Emma’s pendant, meant to remind me to fight for justice, and here I am, falling again for someone who’s choosing to work for the very company that...

“I have to go,” I manage, nearly knocking over my chair as I stand. The cafeteria suddenly feels too small, too crowded, too everything.

“Alex? Are you okay?”

I can barely hear Eric’s concerned voice over the roaring in my ears. All I can think about is Freddie—brilliant, complicated Freddie—choosing to work for the company that killed my cousin. The company that brushed her death off like it was just another inconvenient line item in their quarterly report. But I’m already moving, walking away as fast as I can. The world tilts sideways. EcoTech. The company that hired cut-rate contractors to manage their mine waste. Contractors who had no experience with tailings but were used anyway because they offered the cheapest bid. The company whose executives testified they had “no way of knowing” their contractors weren’t following proper containment protocols.

The same company whose lawyer called Emma’s death “tragic” but “unforeseeable”—as if they couldn’t have predicted what would happen when you let untrained idiots handle toxic waste.

My stomach turns. Freddie wants to work for them? After all our late-night talks about corporate responsibility, about making real change from the inside, about holding companies accountable—was it all just empty talk?

The worst part isn’t even the betrayal. It’s that, deep down, I’m not surprised. Because EcoTech is exactly the kind of company that would hire someone like Freddie—charming, smart, able to make their dirty dealings sound reasonable. Able to look grieving families in the eye and call their losses “unfortunate incidents.”

I close my eyes, letting the spring breeze cool my burning cheeks. All this time, I thought Freddie understood.

I thought wrong.