● SOPHIA HONEY ●

         THE TASTE of victory lasted barely two minutes before guilt hit me, fast as lightning. It surged through my body, tightening my muscles and making it almost impossible not to glance back at him.

What was supposed to feel sweet—the comeback I threw at him—was already turning bitter. The way I’d handled it made me feel even worse.

I really wanted to see his face right now.

But I couldn’t. Why? Because I’d acted childish. This was college, and I’d promised Ryan I’d behave. Meddling in Theo’s life was not the way to set a good example.

And he had wanted to apologize. Theo, of all people. The guy who used to sabotage my toys as a kid, blaming it on an imaginary dog that only showed up when he wanted to make my life miserable.

But that was then. He’s all grown up now... I think.

Okay, sure, he’d been a thorn in my side, but maybe he wasn’t as bad as when we last saw each other years ago. Maybe it was time to admit that.

I gathered every ounce of courage I had, trying to break the weird silence hanging between us. The tension was driving me nuts. Honestly, I preferred the bickering from earlier to this awkwardness.

This? This was torture. And since I’d started it, I figured it was up to me to end it.

With whatever dignity I had left, I shifted in my seat and turned to face him.

I wasn’t sure how long I stared at him—probably too long—but it was either one of two things: one, he had no clue I was looking at him and was too focused on the road, or two, he knew I was staring like some creep and just didn’t care.

After a few seconds, he glanced my way before quickly focusing back on the road, his hand steering to the left as we turned onto another street.

Guess option two was the winner—he was avoiding me.

Great.

I didn’t give up, though. I shifted forward in my seat, one leg propped up on the edge as I continued my stare-down. My eyes drifted to his jaw, which was clenched tight, probably trying not to give in. Then, after another second, I heard him curse under his breath. He cracked, turning to me with an exasperated look. “What?”

Knew he’d break. “I want to apologize.”

He looked confused, then shook his head. “You want to apologize?”

I nodded.

“For what?”

“For not letting you apologize.” I sighed, rubbing my hands over my jeans. “Look, it’s still your fault—”

He chuckled. “I don’t think that’s how an apology works.”

I shot him a glare. “You didn’t let me finish.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “I just want us to be cool, okay? We’re roommates now, and who knows for how long. Let’s start fresh.”

“Seriously?” His tone was incredulous, and I didn’t blame him. Even I was surprised at how easily the words were tumbling out of my mouth. But they had to. “So… a peace truce?” he suggested.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So, no more fighting?” He arched an eyebrow.

“Well…” I trailed off, a little embarrassed. “I mean, we don’t exactly fight. Let’s be real, you’d tear me apart if we did.” I blurted, then quickly added, “Not that I’m saying you—”

His laughter cut me off, deep and warm. “Sophia, honey,” he said, and the way he said my name made my breath catch for a second. Sweetly, teasingly. “Have you been checking me out?”

“What?!” I blinked, my mind racing. What the hell is he talking about?!

He smirked, all dimples and mischief, and I suddenly wanted to wipe that look off his face. “I mean, have you been on my Instagram?”

“I don’t even know you're on Instagram and if i did why would I be on your Instagram?”

“To see me shirtless,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why would I want to see you shirtless?” My mouth said one thing, but my mind flashed back to that stupid picture Blair had shown me, and a sudden, unwelcome tingle ran through me.

“I don’t know. Why do you want to see me shirtless, Sophie?” His grin grew wider, and he winked at me.

“You know what?!” I threw my hands up, already done with this conversation. There’s no peace truce with this guy. The word didn’t even belong in his vocabulary.

“What?” He leaned closer, his face inches from mine. “I’m listening.”

I clenched my teeth so hard they might shatter. “Screw this.”

His eyes widened in surprise before he fell back into his seat, laughing loudly. “Little Sophie can curse now? When did you go all bad?”

“Maybe the day I got stuck with you,” I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. “I’m trying to make this work, and you’re just… just being a dickhead about it!”

“Dickhead?” He snorted. “Since when—”

“Since now!” I shot back, my voice rising with every word. I could barely catch my breath. “Why can’t you just be nice for once—”

My rant was cut short when his hand suddenly covered my mouth. I jerked away, swatting at his hand like it had burned me. His touch still lingered, annoyingly warm.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Shh.” He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for me to quiet down. “Don’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I frowned, listening for whatever he was talking about. I didn’t hear a thing—

Until my stomach growled. Loudly.

Theo’s face lit up with amusement, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle his laugh. “Oh, I hear it.”

I flushed with embarrassment as he stared at my stomach, then reached over, placing his hand right where the sound had come from. “I think it wants to say something.”

I slapped his hand away. “It’s not funny.”

“Okay, it’s not.” He raised his hands in mock surrender but couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “But you have to admit, it’s kinda funny.”

I rolled my eyes, ready to give him some sassy comeback, but my stomach growled again, even louder this time.

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Alright, alright. What are you craving?”

"I'm fine."

He scoffed, his eyes glancing at my stomach then back to my eyes."I ask again, What are you craving and be real, I'm burning gas here."

My cheeks burned. This was so embarrassing. But screw it. “A burrito. And… maybe a mango drink.”

“Maybe?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

I groaned, rubbing my face in my hands. “Fine. A burrito and a mango drink.”

“There you go.” He grinned, sitting up and starting the car. He backed out of the driveway, and that’s when it hit me—we’d been parked in front of the gate this entire time.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me we were already here?”

He shrugged, still smirking. “Why would I? I was really enjoying hungry Sophie. She’s wild.”

I stared at him, completely at a loss for words. When he turned to glance at me, I quickly looked away, my neck aching from the speed of it.

“I—I wasn’t staring,” I blurted out.

“I never said you were.”

Neither of us said anything after that, but somehow, the silence felt a lot better than earlier. Theo pulled into the drive-thru at a McDonald’s and ordered exactly what I wanted.

“Aren’t you getting anything?” I asked, not because I cared, but more out of curiosity.

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. I had a sandwich earlier.”

“Oh.” I shrugged, accepting the food he handed me. “Thanks.”

He nodded, driving us back home. Then, for some reason, I couldn’t help but ask, “How many sandwiches?”

He glanced at me. “What?”

“How many sandwiches?” I repeat, turning to face him as we pull away from the drive-thru. My fingers grip the warm burrito in my lap, but suddenly, I’m not as hungry. There’s a weird tension in the air now, like I’ve asked something I shouldn’t have.

Theo keeps his eyes on the road, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. He clears his throat, and when he finally answers. “I don’t know. A couple.”

The sudden shift in his tone clearly suggested he was lying, but I didn’t push further. The atmosphere between us changed, thick with something unsaid. “Okay,” I muttered, and we both fell into silence as the car hummed towards the apartment.

Minutes dragged on, feeling like hours, but we finally arrived at the gate. Just like last time, Mr. Nick came out to check Theo’s ID card before waving us inside. I wasn’t sure why, but the moment Theo parked the car, I jumped out, heading straight for the elevator, desperate to escape the thick air between us.

I could hear his footsteps behind me, and maybe I felt his eyes on my back, but that was probably just me overthinking it.

When we stepped into the elevator, a few other people were already inside. I avoided looking at anyone, turning to face the front as Theo joined me, standing just a little too close. He leaned forward, pressing the button for our floor.

The silence was deafening as we watched the others leave one by one. When it was finally our turn, we exited together, the tension between us still palpable. I headed straight for my room, already planning to dig into the burrito he'd bought me, when his voice stopped me mid-step.

“Sophie?”

I kicked off my shoes and turned to face him. “Hmm?”

Theo looked conflicted, like he was trying to figure out what to say. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while slipping the other into his pocket, taking slow steps towards me.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, stopping a few feet away. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. He was waiting for me to respond, but I just raised an eyebrow, staying silent. “For this morning,” he added, looking a little more at ease.

Ah. So he did know what he did.

“It’s fine.” I shrugged it off, already turning to leave, but he called my name again. I sighed, exasperated. “What now?”

“Honestly, I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “Coach wanted us to come early, and... I’m used to being the only one here.”

“So…” I stretched out the word. “You’re saying you forgot I was even here?”

“Yes.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. Looking at him now, calm and tired, I noticed something I hadn’t before. He looked exhausted, just like last night when he’d picked me up.

I studied his face carefully, focusing on the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Is that why he’s always using those skin products?

“Sophie? Are you still here?”

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. “Yeah, I’m here,” I said quickly. “And it’s fine, really.” I turned back to my room, hand already on the doorknob. But something made me pause. I glanced over my shoulder to see him still standing there, watching me.

“Do you need anything else?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze.

Theo blinked, as if shaken from a trance, and shook his head. “No.”

“Okay then.” I pushed open the door, but it slammed shut a little harder than I intended. I leaned against it, exhaling.

What was that all about?

I couldn’t figure it out, but one thing was clear—something was up with Theo. Should I care? No. It wasn’t my business. Like I told myself earlier, I wasn’t going to get involved in his life.

Less problems. Less thinking.

I nodded to myself, feeling good about that decision, but my stomach growled, interrupting my moment of clarity.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” I rubbed my stomach, crossing the room to grab the food from my bag and placing it on the bed. A long, relaxing shower sounded perfect before I dove into the burrito.

Then I remembered. I shared a bathroom with Theo.

Ugh.

I grabbed my towel and toiletries, hesitating at the door, hoping he wasn’t out there. After a few more seconds, I peeked out, glancing both ways. No sign of Theo. Good.

I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door, groaning when I saw his boxers and skin products still scattered around.

Great. Definitely going to have a talk with him about this.

I sighed, ignoring the mess as I undressed and stepped into the shower. The warm water poured over me, washing away the stress of the day. For a few minutes, I let myself forget everything, lost in the soothing stream.

When I stepped out, I was relieved to find the apartment still empty. No Theo. I hurried back to my room, tossing my towel aside and throwing my dirty clothes into the corner. I opened the wardrobe, realizing I still hadn’t unpacked everything.

I’ll deal with that later.

I sifted through my clothes, pulling out a crop top and joggers. I’d been hesitant about wearing something like this outside my room—worried it would make my stomach look bigger or draw too much attention to my chest. But in the privacy of my room? No big deal.

I slipped them on and flopped onto the bed, reaching for my phone. Taking a bite of the burrito, I smiled at how warm and delicious it still was.

Scrolling through my messages, I saw texts from Mom and Dad. They were checking in, so I quickly replied in the family group chat, letting them know I was doing fine.

With my stomach full and my phone buzzing quietly beside me, I grabbed my laptop and settled in for a Netflix binge. Finally, some time to chill.

I scroll through Netflix, looking for something to watch, and a title catches my eye: Lies Leading to Love. The description is predictable—a woman falls for her neighbor and enlists the help of her playboy best friend to win him over. I can already guess how it's going to end, but since it’s only eight episodes, I figure why not.

The first episode is cringey, as expected. But by episode three, things start to get interesting. The playboy character turns out to have a dark past that even his best friend doesn’t know about. He keeps his pain hidden, constantly smiling and acting like everything’s fine.

It annoys me. Why do people do that—hide their emotions, especially from the people they care about? I get it if it’s a stranger, but this is someone he grew up with. Why pretend?

I’m about to dive back into the drama when my phone buzzes. I glance down and see a message from Scott.

Scott—Hey Sophie, it’s me, Scott.

I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling a little.

Scott—I already sent you the notes. You can check them later. There are a few assignments too, so if you need any help, just ask 😊.

He’s sweet. I quickly type back a thanks and set my phone aside, determined to finish the series before tackling the notes and assignments.

Ugh, assignments.

I prop my laptop on my legs and keep watching. By the last episode, the girl has figured out that her playboy best friend has been in love with her the whole time. She rushes to the airport to stop him from leaving, they confess their feelings, and—of course—kiss dramatically in front of everyone. Happily ever after.

I let out a satisfied sigh, stretching as my joints crack from sitting in one spot too long. Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s almost 9 p.m. and decide to get up. I’m not one to stay cooped up in my room all night unless I’m really into a book, usually one of those steamy romances with morally gray, possessive guys who make the heroine see stars.

Yeah, I know, it’s a guilty pleasure. But who doesn’t love the idea of a guy who’s a little too obsessed with you?

I grab my laptop and head to the living room, sinking into the couch. I glance around. Theo is nowhere to be seen. The balcony doors are closed, so I guess he’s not out there either.

Strange. I don’t think I heard him leave his room.

Maybe he’s studying? I picture him sitting at a desk, glasses on, flipping through a textbook, focused and serious.

That would be kind of hot—

I freeze mid-thought. What the hell? Why did that just pop into my head? I don’t think Theo’s attractive. Not in that way. Sure, he’s good-looking, objectively speaking, but it’s not like I’ve been staring at him or anything.

Shaking my head, I push the thought away and open my laptop, transferring the notes Scott sent me. I skim through the first few pages, getting a feel for the material. The assignments don’t seem too bad, mostly photography-related, and I can use some of the photos I took back home for now.

As I work, the apartment is eerily quiet. No sign of Theo at all. I swear I heard him moving around earlier, but maybe I imagined it. Does he seriously spend all his time in his room?

Is this how it’s going to be? Me out here, him locked away in there? I mean, I get it—we’re not exactly friends. He doesn’t know that I barely know him, but maybe my behavior at the café made him think I don’t want to talk. But that doesn’t mean we have to be strangers in our own apartment.

What kind of roommate is he, anyway?

I mutter to myself, frustrated. “What am I even saying?” I can’t make up my mind—first, I want to avoid him, now I’m annoyed that he’s not talking to me. I pinch the bridge of my nose as a headache starts to form.

I need a nap. Less thinking, less problems—that’s my new motto.

Shutting my laptop, I drop it on the coffee table and lay down on the couch, determined to think about nothing for the rest of the night.