Chapter 3 Chapter three

Chelsea quickly realized that being Ryan Ashford’s partner came with problems she had not prepared for.

Everywhere they went, people stared at them.

Some students looked confused while others looked annoyed, almost offended that someone like Chelsea was standing beside him at all. The whispers had become impossible to avoid, and by the third day at Blackthorn Academy, rumors about them were already spreading through the school.

Chelsea hated all of it.

She especially hated how calm Ryan remained while everyone watched them like entertainment.

Their first debate meeting was scheduled after classes in one of the private study rooms reserved for Elite Scholars. Chelsea arrived ten minutes early with her notes already organized, determined to finish the assignment quickly and leave.

Ryan arrived exactly on time.

Not a minute early.

Not a minute late.

Chelsea tried not to notice how unfairly good he looked in the academy uniform.

“You’re staring again,” Ryan said calmly as he closed the door behind him.

Chelsea immediately looked down at her notebook. “I was trying to figure out if arrogance was genetic.”

Ryan sat across from her with the smallest hint of amusement in his eyes. “And?”

“The results are disappointing.”

A quiet laugh escaped him before he opened his folder. Somehow, that tiny sound irritated Chelsea less than it should have.

For the next hour, they worked in tense silence. Or at least Chelsea tried to.

The problem was that Ryan Ashford was annoyingly intelligent.

Every point he made during preparation was sharp, organized, and impossible to argue against easily. Chelsea hated how naturally good he was at this.

“You’re overthinking the structure,” Ryan said after reading through her outline.

Chelsea frowned. “I’m making sure it’s perfect.”

“You’re making it complicated.”

She crossed her arms. “Not everyone relies on natural talent.”

Ryan looked at her for a moment before replying quietly, “And not everything comes naturally to me.”

The comment caught her slightly off guard.

Before Chelsea could respond, Ryan reached across the table and adjusted one of the pages in front of her.

“You repeat the same point three times here,” he said. “Condense it. Your strongest argument is already enough.”

Chelsea stared at the paper silently.

He was right.

And somehow that annoyed her more than if he had been wrong.

“You don’t have to sound so pleased with yourself,” she muttered.

“I’m always pleased with myself.”

Chelsea rolled her eyes so hard it almost made him laugh again.

As the evening passed, the tension between them slowly became less hostile. Their arguments started sounding more natural, less sharp around the edges. Chelsea found herself forgetting, sometimes for a few seconds, that she was supposed to dislike him.

That realization alone was dangerous.

At some point, Chelsea reached into her bag for the sandwich she packed that morning, only to freeze when she realized it was gone.

Her stomach dropped immediately.

She searched through her bag twice before remembering exactly where she had left it earlier during lunch break.

On the cafeteria table.

Great.

Ryan noticed the change in her expression. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“You just looked personally betrayed by your backpack.”

Chelsea sighed softly. “I forgot my food.”

Ryan glanced at the clock on the wall. The cafeteria was already closed.

“You haven’t eaten?”

“I’m fine.”

Ryan studied her face for a second before quietly standing up.

Chelsea frowned. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back.”

Before she could ask another question, he walked out of the room.

Chelsea stared after him in confusion.

Ten minutes later, he returned carrying two drinks and a small paper bag from one of the academy cafés.

Chelsea blinked. “What’s that?”

“Food,” Ryan replied simply as he placed it in front of her.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

Chelsea hesitated before slowly opening the bag. The smell alone reminded her how hungry she actually was.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Ryan leaned back in his chair. “You should stop skipping meals.”

Chelsea looked up immediately. “I don’t skip meals.”

“You do when you’re stressed.”

The fact that he noticed unsettled her more than it should have.

Chelsea looked away quickly and focused on eating instead.

For a while, silence settled comfortably between them. Not awkward. Not hostile.

Just quiet.

It was strange.

Chelsea could not remember the last time silence with someone felt easy.

“You work too hard,” Ryan said suddenly.

Chelsea frowned slightly. “What’s wrong with working hard?”

“Nothing.” His gaze remained on her. “But you act like everything will disappear if you stop for one second.”

The words hit closer than she expected.

Chelsea looked down at her hands. “Some people can’t afford failure.”

Ryan became unusually quiet after that.

For the first time since meeting him, Chelsea noticed something different in his expression. Not arrogance. Not amusement.

Understanding.

It scared her a little.

Because she was beginning to realize Ryan Ashford understood loneliness better than she thought.

Their study session finally ended almost two hours later. By then, the sky outside had already turned dark.

As Chelsea packed her things, she noticed Ryan watching her again.

“What now?” she asked suspiciously.

Ryan nodded toward the window. “It’s late.”

“I can see that.”

“I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Chelsea immediately shook her head. “I’m capable of walking alone.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you offering?”

Ryan held her gaze calmly. “Because I want to.”

The simple honesty in his answer caught her off guard.

Chelsea looked away first.

And Ryan noticed.