Page 6 of Heat Me

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The East Coastline Campus was huge. Way bigger than I’d expected. I didn’t know where any of the buildings were, let alone the computer science department. Turns out, classes weren’t all in one place but scattered all over the campus.

My plan was pretty simple—at least in theory. Two lectures were happening in the main building. One was ending in fifteen minutes and the other in about an hour. Then there were a bunch of classes in three separate buildings, but a couple ended too soon for me to even get there. The rest finished in about half an hour—at the exact same time. Bad luck.

But as I stared at the campus map, an idea started to form. If I positioned myself just right, I could catch one group leaving, then sprint about 100 yards and catch the second group. Theoretically.

The problem was: I had no idea whether Damien was even in class right now. If he wasn’t—if he’d already finished and gone to grab lunch—I’d miss him completely. That gave me another lead, though: the cafeterias. The campus had several of them. Not ideal, but I had to start somewhere. The main building seemed like the best bet.

I kept looking around nervously, hoping I didn’t stick out too much, despite my tall frame.

The height alone didn’t necessarily suggest I was a purple.

Almost all alphas were exclusively above 6’4’’—it was in our genetics—but many were even taller, around 6’6’’ and up. A few were close to 7’, so I could somewhat blend in. And even though I was about to turn 25 in a few months, I could still pass for a student, looks-wise.

Still, the fact that I didn’t feel like a student anymore made me hyperaware of people’s stares.

Then I got to the information desk, the attendant raised an eyebrow but pointed me to the room I was looking for.

Climbing the stairs, I could feel my pulse picking up. Damien didn’t know what I looked like, which was comforting in a way. If I spotted him, and he was with someone, I could just walk away.

The lecture ended, and students started flooding out of the room. I scanned the crowd, looking for Damien’s fiery,amaranth-red hair. Nothing. Part of me felt disappointed, but the other part was honestly relieved.

Next up were two buildings with classes ending at the same time. I found a spot where I could watch students leaving both. The doors opened, and people poured out. But from this distance, it was impossible to tell who was who—especially with some students wearing caps. And the crowd was huge, scattering in all directions. I squinted, hoping to see him, but no luck. Maybe he was hidden somewhere among them.

I wasn’t ready to give up yet, though. The last class was wrapping up soon. I rushed over and waited for the students to come out, but with the same result—no Damien.

Frustration started gnawing at me. What was I even doing? But then it hit me again: if he wasn’t in class, maybe he was at a cafeteria. I might’ve missed him earlier in the crowd. The closest one was near the main building, and it had the weirdest name:Fate. It felt oddly symbolic.

I headed there, eventually even breaking into a light run. The cafeteria was spacious and packed with students, but as I scanned the tables, my eyes zeroed in on a spot by the window.

Sunlight hit a reddish-pink head of hair, almost glowing.

Damien.

My heart jumped into my throat. I felt a weird mix of relief and panic. So I found him—what now? He was sitting with a group—two omegas, two betas, and one alpha. They were chatting and laughing, but Damien looked quiet. He was hunched over his tray, picking at his food and sipping soda like he was somewhere else entirely.

The line moved forward, and I grabbed a coffee, trying to buy some time. With my cup in hand, I found a spot at a nearby table with a couple of betas.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked casually.

They nodded, so I sat down, angling myself so I could see Damien without being obvious.

He looked smaller than I remembered, like the green hoodie and black jeans were swallowing him. His posture was slouched, and he barely reacted when one of the betas in his group, a guy in a T-shirt with a big pug head printed on it, said something to him. It made my stomach twist. Was this my fault? Did I make him feel like this by turning him down?

I watched him quietly, hoping he’d look up, maybe spot me. At one point, he did glance around the room. My heart jumped, but his gaze skimmed right over me. A few minutes later, he looked up again, and this time, I noticed something in his expression—like he was restless or distracted.

Finally, his eyes landed on my table. My breath caught. For a split second, I thought he saw me. But then he looked down again, like nothing had happened.

The group eventually finished eating, got up, and returned their trays. I followed at a distance, trying not to seem like a stalker. They headed toward the main building, probably for their next class.

I still had no clue what I was going to do. Walk up to him in front of his friends? That felt like a terrible idea—awkward for both of us.Hey, I’m the guy who fucked you wearing a mask! Don’t mind I stalk you in your school?Sounded just like a line happening every day all over campuses.

When they went into a classroom, I hung back. But when I peeked inside, I stopped breathing. Damien wasn’t there! My heart started racing. Where did he go? The dean’s office? Another class? Did he ditch entirely?

Then I noticed a sign for the restrooms.

My feet moved before I could think. I pushed the door open, and… there he was—standing at the sink, washing his hands.

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