Boy, 21: Love and Lust-Chapter 45: The first seeds of downfall
Joren was still asleep, curled on his side, facing the right edge of the bed. His breath was slow and steady — until he felt a soft tug on his arm and a quiet voice calling his name.
"Joren..."
He stirred slightly, groggy and disoriented. The bed still felt warm, the air serene. He reached out instinctively, but the space beside him was empty.
Another poke came from behind.
He turned, squinting, and saw Lana sitting on the left side of the bed, her hair tousled, her expression somewhere between amusement and impatience.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," she said, tugging him once more. "It’s already noon."
Joren groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Ugh... what?"
She sighed, brushing her fingers through her hair. "Come on. You forgot?"
He blinked again, still half-asleep. "Forgot what?"
"The date," she said, nudging his leg.
Joren sat up slowly, brows furrowed. "What about it?"
She gestured toward the window, where sunlight poured in. "We slept through half the day. There’s barely time left."
"So?" he said.
"So," she replied, "there won’t be enough time to properly go out."
Joren rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay... but that doesn’t mean we can’t still go."
"But—" she started, but he cut her off.
"You still wanna go on the date, right?."
"I do, but..." She hesitated, eyes now fixed on the bed, her expression uncertain. Then she sighed. "Alright. I just don’t think it’ll be that fun with the time we’ve got left."
"Trust me," Joren said, stretching. "We’re gonna have a blast."
Lana stood up, brushing her hair back. "Okay then. Get ready so we can go. I’ll be in the living area downstairs."
Joren nodded, watching her leave.
The moment she left the room, he slumped back onto the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling for a moment before finally dragging himself upright. He swung his legs over the edge and was just about to get moving when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
It was an unknown number.
He hesitated, then picked it up. "Hello?"
A familiar voice answered. "It’s me."
He didn’t need to ask. That voice — low, smooth, with a hint of formality — was unmistakable.
"...Professor Hart," he said quietly, glancing toward the door. "Why are you calling me?"
"I heard you’re not on campus right now."
"Yeah," Joren said, keeping his voice low.
"So... where are you?"
"I’m out for the weekend."
She sighed. "I was hoping you’d come over. I had a few things planned."
Joren rubbed his temple. "This really isn’t a good time. By the way, how did you even get my number?"
"I teach a lot of your coursemates," she said, her tone almost teasing. "And you’re not exactly shy about handing out your contact info."
He frowned. "Who gave it to you?"
"Does it really matter?" she replied.
"Of course it does," he snapped, still whispering. "What if someone starts getting suspicious about—"
"Who are you talking to?"
The voice came from the doorway, sharp and sudden.
Joren shrieked, startled, and spun toward the door.
Lucy stood there, motionless, her arms folded, her gaze sharp and unnerving — like she’d been watching for longer than she should’ve.
He fumbled with his phone, quickly ending the call, then turned to face her fully.
"Oh—Lucy. What are you doing—"
"Who were you talking to?" she asked, cutting him off, her voice low and steady.
Joren blinked, trying to keep his tone casual. "It’s... my lecturer. Class-related stuff."
Lucy didn’t move. Her eyes stayed locked on him, unreadable.
Joren cleared his throat, shifting tactics to the offensive. "What about you? What are you doing in front of my room?"
She didn’t answer right away. Her lips pressed into a thin line, then she turned slightly, her voice quiet.
"It’s nothing."
Without another word, she closed the door to his room and walked away, her footsteps soft against the hallway floor.
As she reached her door, her expression shifted — just slightly.
"Lecturer, huh?" she thought, pushing the door open.
Meanwhile.
Joren stood frozen for a moment, staring at the closed door where Lucy had just disappeared. His heart thudded in his chest.
Did she hear anything? he thought, swallowing hard.
He shook his head, trying to reassure himself. No... no, if she’d heard something suspicious, she would’ve said something. Or asked more questions. Right?
But the doubt lingered.
How much did she hear?
Did she catch Professor Hart’s voice?
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little. The call had been short, but not short enough. And Lucy’s timing was precise. Too precise in fact.
His thoughts were spiraling when the door creaked open again.
"Hey," Lana said, stepping in. "You ready?"
Joren jumped slightly, startled by her sudden entrance.
She paused, noticing his reaction. "You okay? You look... bothered."
He turned quickly, forcing a smile. "It’s nothing."
"You sure?" she asked, her tone gentle but curious.
"Yeah," he said, a little too fast. "I’m alright."
Lana studied him for a second, then nodded. "If you say so."
She glanced at his half-dressed state. "Are you ready to go?"
"Almost," Joren said, grabbing a bottle of body spray and giving himself a quick spritz. "Okay. Ready."
Lana’s expression brightened just a little. "Alright then. Let’s get going."
She turned and walked out of the room, her steps light and casual. Joren followed, still shaken but trying to mask it.
As they stepped into the hallway, Joren’s eyes flicked toward the left — and there she was.
Lucy.
She had just stepped out of her room, her posture relaxed, her expression unreadable. She didn’t glance their way. Didn’t say a word.
Maybe she didn’t hear anything, Joren thought.
Maybe I’m just being melodramatic. If she’d caught something, she would’ve pressed harder. She would have asked more questions... Right?
He exhaled quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.
Thank God.
He kept walking beside Lana, matching her pace as they headed toward the stairs.
Behind them, Lucy stood still, her gaze following them.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"You’re hiding something, Joren." She thought.
" And I’m going to find out."
