13 | Butterfly Effect

"Mine, mine, always mine."

Willa

𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼

There should be a word for the kind of exhaustion that isn't physical but mental. The kind that settles in your bones after too much thinking, too much feeling. That's the exhaustion I feel walking into my last class of the day—French.

And because the universe apparently hates me, it's the only class I have with Dominic West.

I usually don't have to deal with him, though. He either skips or rolls in halfway through, just enough to remind the teacher he technically exists before tuning out again.

But today?

Today, of course, he's already here.

And not just here—he's comfortable.

Dominic West doesn't just exist in a room; he takes up space. He's the kind of person who demands attention without a single word, who makes people shift in their seats with just a look. He's sprawled out in my seat, long legs stretched in front of him, feet propped up on the chair beside him like he owns the place. His black hoodie is pushed up to his elbows, inked skin on display, and he spins a pen lazily between his fingers, his gaze tracking me the second I walk through the door.

Alec walks in beside me, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. On his other side, Roman trails behind, casually adjusting the tape on his hockey stick, his fingers working with practiced ease like he's done it a thousand times before—because he has.

Alec lets out a low whistle under his breath. "Damn. He actually showed up on time? Should we alert the press?"

Roman doesn't say anything, but I catch the ghost of a smirk as he shakes his head. He and Dom have always had this quiet, invisible loyalty between them—one I never quite understood. They don't have to talk to communicate; they just know. And growing up, that used to drive me crazy.

Because when Dom and I were kids, I was supposed to be his best friend. I was the one who ran after him when he got bored, who knew the exact way he liked his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, who listened to him complain about his dad for hours. But then Roman came along, and he got to be in all the places I wasn't—hockey practices, boys' nights, the kind of things I was never invited to.

I used to be jealous of him for it.

Still kind of am.

But right now, Dom is watching me.

And I'm watching him.

I sigh and march straight toward him, coming to a stop in front of my desk. "You're in my seat."

Dom tilts his head, looking completely unbothered. "I don't see your name on it."

Alec snorts beside me. I ignore him.

"Move."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, brown eyes dark with amusement. "You're really gonna make me?"

I cross my arms. "Are you really going to make this a thing?"

His smirk deepens. "Willa, everything between us is already a thing."

Alec makes a sound like he's witnessing the best entertainment of his life. "This is so much better than the movie I was gonna watch tonight."

I shoot him a look before turning back to Dom. My jaw tightens. "If you don't move, I'll sit on you."

Dom's brows shoot up. "Kinky. At least buy me dinner first."

Alec loses it, doubling over as laughter spills out of him. Roman just sighs and grabs him by the back of the hoodie, dragging him toward their seats. "Come on, idiot."

"But it's just getting good!" Alec protests.

Roman ignores him.

I slap a hand over my face, inhaling deeply as the quiet murmurs of our classmates falter. I can feel them watching, pretending not to listen. Some are barely holding in their nervous laughter. Others keep sneaking glances at Dom like he might snap and break something—or someone—at any second.

Because that's the thing about Dominic West.

Most people at this school know of him. They know the stories, the whispers, the fights he's been in, the people he's made disappear into lockers, the bruises he's left behind. They know the way teachers don't even bother lecturing him anymore, the way students go silent when he walks past. He doesn't just have a reputation—he embodies it.

People fear him.

I don't.

And he knows it.

Which is exactly why he grins like he's enjoying this way too much.

I exhale sharply before reaching forward, grabbing the back of his hoodie, and yanking him up. He doesn't resist, doesn't push back—just lets me haul him to his feet like this is some game we play.

"Okay, okay," he laughs, stepping aside, but not before he leans down, his breath warm against my ear. "All you had to do was ask, Butterfly."

I pretend my stomach doesn't flip at the nickname, dropping into my seat and pulling out my notebook like nothing happened.

Alec, now back in his seat, shakes his head. "You two are exhausting."

"Tell me about it," I mutter.

Dom doesn't take his usual spot in the back of the class. Instead, he drops into the seat directly behind me, draping an arm over the back of his chair, his knee knocking into my chair leg.

I stiffen but don't turn around.

Alec, on the other hand, throws him a look over my shoulder. "You stalking her now?"

Dom shrugs. "Just enjoying the view."

Alec grins. "She does have a nice side profile."

I groan. "I hate both of you."

Alec nudges my arm. "Lies."

Before I can argue, the teacher walks in, and I force myself to focus.

Dom? Not so much.

I can feel him behind me the entire class. The lazy way he taps his pen against his desk. The way his chair creaks when he leans back, stretching out. The heat of his stare against the side of my face.

Eventually, I break.

I shift in my seat just enough to shoot him a glare. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I think this is the first time I've been in this seat," he ignores me, stretching out beside me, taking up too much space, his knee knocking into mine under the desk. "The view's pretty nice from here."

I try my best not to look at him. "If you're referring to the whiteboard, I can assure you it's the same from every angle."

He lets out a low chuckle, shifting in his seat so that he's fully turned toward me now, his arm draped over the back of his chair. "Oh no, I wasn't talking about the board."

Oh my god.

I whip back around, pressing my lips together as Alec makes a low whistling sound beside me.

By the time the bell rings, my patience is holding on by a thread. I'm already zipping up my bag, ready to escape, when something lands on my desk.

A box of strawberry-flavored gum.

I stare at it.

Then up at him.

Dom slings his hockey bag over his shoulder, his hoodie slightly rumpled, dark eyes locked on mine. He doesn't say anything. Just watches me for a beat before the corner of his mouth lifts.

Then he winks.

"I'm not giving up on you. I'm not giving up on us." he murmurs.

And just like that, he's gone.

I stare after him, pulse thrumming in my ears.

Damn him.

Alex is waiting for me outside my classroom, tapping at her phone before looking up and spotting me.

"Took you long enough," she says, looping her arm through mine as we start down the hallway. "Come on, we're gonna be late."

Late for—oh. Right. The hockey rink.

Dom.

Alec.

Roman.

Great.

Alex chats away as we walk toward her car, but I barely hear her. My mind is still stuck in that stupid classroom, on that stupid piece of gum, on the words I know he meant—

I'm not giving up on you. I'm not giving up on us.

I want to believe him

Worse—

I think I already do.

𓇼𓇼𓇼𓇼

Idk about how I feel about this chapter...lowk kinda hate how I wrote it.

anyway, I'm progressing through the book much quicker than I ever did with 'the quarterbacks kiss' but......I still have my exams so I will be offline in April and may as those are when my exams are taken up!

You can expect a chapter or two in those months but I won't be uploading as much until my last exam on the 4 June🙂