Chapter 2 — First Impressions

Violet

The common room buzzed with life—a chaotic blend of laughter, overlapping conversations, and the faint rhythm of a pop song filtering through the din. The air held the tangy scent of citrus-scented cleaning spray that couldn’t quite mask the buttery aroma of popcorn or the underlying lived-in mess of scuffed furniture and mismatched cushions. It felt like an ecosystem all its own, vibrant and sprawling, and Violet wasn’t entirely sure how to slip into it unnoticed.

“C’mon, Violet. Time to meet your new neighbors,” Maya said, tugging at her arm with exaggerated urgency. Her geometric earrings swung boldly with her movements, catching the dim lights above. Her unwavering grin brimmed with energy—enough to fill the entire space twice over. Maya had already greeted half the room, moving through clusters of people like a magnet pulling connections together. Violet watched her in awe. How could anyone glide through a room like that, as though they belonged to everyone and no one all at once?

“I’m here,” Violet murmured, clutching her leather journal tighter against her chest. Her fingers grazed the worn strap, the familiar texture grounding her in the face of the unfamiliar. But here, amidst this whirlwind of energy, the journal felt less like a lifeline and more like an anchor weighing her down.

“Here, sure,” Maya said, not missing a beat, “but standing in the corner clutching that thing like it’s your security blanket? That’s not mingling, Violet.”

As Violet opened her mouth to respond, Maya’s sharp gaze darted across the room, her expression lighting up with fresh excitement. “Perfect timing! You have to meet Emmett.”

Violet barely had time to protest before Maya was steering her forward, weaving through the scattered furniture and animated conversations. The journal pressed harder into Violet’s side with each step, its edges digging into her ribs like a physical manifestation of her discomfort.

Then she saw him. He was crouched by the snack table, carefully pouring chips into a bowl with a deliberate precision that suggested he took even the smallest task seriously. Tall and lean, his light brown skin seemed to catch the soft glow of the overhead lights. His warm hazel eyes lifted when Maya called out.

“Emmett!” Maya greeted, her voice effortlessly rising above the noise.

He straightened, turning toward them. His eyes locked onto Violet’s almost instantly. His smile was soft, unhurried—not the performative brightness of someone trying to impress but something quieter, an invitation rather than a demand.

“Hey, Maya,” he said, his voice carrying the same steady calm as his expression. His gaze shifted back to Violet, and his eyebrows lifted slightly, a subtle, unspoken curiosity. “And you must be the new recruit.”

“Violet,” Maya supplied when Violet hesitated, her throat tightening under his kind but direct attention. It wasn’t intimidating, exactly, but it stirred an uneasy flutter in her chest. “This is Emmett, our totally amazing resident assistant. Basically our dorm parent, but, you know, cooler.”

Emmett chuckled softly. “Not sure cooler’s the right word, but I can work a microwave, so that’s something.”

Despite herself, Violet let out a small laugh, loosening her grip on her journal. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Likewise,” Emmett replied, his gaze flicking briefly to the journal she clutched. There was no judgment in his expression—just a faint, understanding curiosity, as though he saw more than she intended to show. “First day going okay?”

“It’s been… a lot,” Violet admitted, her shoulders relaxing slightly under the warmth of his tone. There was something about the way Emmett held himself—not filling the space with noise or motion, but existing comfortably within it—that put her at ease.

“Yeah, these mixers can be overwhelming,” Emmett said, his hazel eyes drifting momentarily to Maya, who had already started chatting with someone near the punch bowl. “Maya makes it look easy, though.”

“She really does,” Violet replied, surprising herself with a soft laugh. The sound felt foreign, slipping through a crack in her carefully constructed defenses, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Emmett said, his voice encouraging but unhurried. “If you ever need a break, though, there’s a study lounge on the third floor that’s usually quiet. Great for reading or… journaling.” His lips quirked into a subtle, teasing smile as he nodded toward the journal.

Her cheeks warmed, but she managed a small smile in return, her voice steadier now. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well,” Emmett said, stepping back with deliberate ease, “I should probably make sure no one’s trying to microwave soup without a lid. But it was great meeting you, Violet. Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” Violet said, her surprise at the steadiness of her own voice lingering even after Emmett walked away.

Maya reappeared at her elbow seconds later, balancing a plate of cookies. “So. What’d you think?” she asked, biting into one without waiting for a response.

“About Emmett?” Violet frowned slightly. “He seems nice. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” Maya said, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “It’s just that by midterms, half the dorm’s already in love with him. The other half’s just in denial.”

“Maya,” Violet groaned, her cheeks burning all over again.

“Relax, I’m just teasing.” Maya winked, nudging her with her elbow. “But seriously, good first impression, right? My work here is done.”

Violet shook her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. For a moment, the earlier tension in her chest started to melt away. But then she heard it—a laugh. Warm, familiar, and utterly shattering.

The sound sliced through the room like glass splintering. Violet froze.

Her chest tightened, her pulse quickening as her gaze followed the sound. And there he was.

Archer Bennett stood near the doorway, laughing at something Ryan had just said. Archer’s broad shoulders filled out the navy blue team hoodie that hung effortlessly on him, his dark blonde hair tousled just enough to look careless but not messy. He held a glass of soda in one hand, his posture as self-assured as ever.

Ryan appeared moments later, clapping Archer on the back with the kind of easy camaraderie that made Violet’s stomach churn. Of course. Of course, Archer was here. She should’ve expected it. Ryan and Archer had been inseparable since high school. But knowing it and seeing it were two very different things.

The journal pressed painfully into her chest. The edges of the room seemed to blur, the pop music and laughter dulling into static as her senses narrowed to Archer’s presence. Her throat felt dry, like every word she might say would crack apart. Heat flushed her cheeks as her mind spiraled in a chaotic loop of memories she had spent years trying to bury.

“Uh-oh. You okay?” Maya’s voice broke through the haze, softer now, the teasing edge replaced with genuine concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s nothing,” Violet said too quickly, her voice strained. “I just didn’t realize Ryan would be here.”

Maya’s sharp eyes followed her gaze. “Ryan? That’s your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“And… golden retriever over there?”

“His friend. Archer.”

Maya tilted her head, her lips curving into a wry smile. “Interesting.”

“It’s not interesting,” Violet muttered, turning abruptly toward the snack table. She busied herself aligning cookies on a plate with unnecessary precision. “It’s nothing.”

“If you say so,” Maya replied lightly, though her curiosity hung thick in the air. Violet wished she could snap her fingers and dissolve it.

The rest of the evening passed in scattered fragments. Maya introduced her to what felt like half the dorm, her boundless energy propelling them from group to group. But no matter where they went, Violet couldn’t shake the prickling awareness of Archer’s presence. He was always somewhere—his laugh cutting through the noise, his presence effortlessly commanding attention.

At one point, Ryan cornered her and pulled her into a one-armed hug. “Vi, hey! How’s it going? Settling in okay?”

“It’s fine,” she said, her tone clipped and neutral.

“Good, good. Oh, hey, have you seen—”

“Don’t,” Violet cut him off sharply, her voice low but firm. “Just don’t.”

Ryan blinked, his grin faltering in confusion before he chuckled and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, her pulse still racing.

By the time Maya finally declared it was time to leave, Violet felt drained. The cool night air brushed her face as they stepped outside, offering welcome relief. She didn’t glance back toward the common room, though Archer’s laugh still echoed in her mind, sharp and unavoidable.

This time, it didn’t feel warm. It felt like a shadow chasing the edges of her carefully built defenses, threatening to swallow her whole.