Chapter 7 Seven Seconds Too Late

Art Building, Studio 2A

Mikey sat by the tall windows, sketchpad propped on one knee, but he hadn't touched the pencil in ten minutes. A streak of sunlight cut across the concrete floor, dancing through dust particles in the still air.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his trance. A message from Vivienne.

Vivienne: "Don't forget Dad's dinner thing this Friday. He wants the whole fam there. No excuses."

He sighed and dropped the phone into his bag. His family's expectations always arrived like obligations uninvited and non-negotiable.

"Earth to Ledger," Crizzle said, nudging his side with her elbow.

He blinked. She'd been sitting there the whole time, cross-legged, eyes locked on her canvas. Smudges of charcoal dusted her cheek and fingers. Her presence was constant now like caffeine in his system. Always there. Always pulsing.

"What's going on in that tragic artist brain of yours?" she teased.

He shrugged. "Family stuff."

She didn't push. Just nodded and returned to her drawing. But the silence between them felt loaded again, like they were tiptoeing across a floor with cracks too wide to ignore.

"I've been thinking," she said, not looking at him. "About the future."

He glanced over. "Scary word."

She chuckled. "No kidding. But seriously where do you see yourself after graduation?"

He hesitated. "Not in a suit. Not in an office. But..."

"But?"

"I don't know if I'll have a choice."

That got her attention. She turned to face him fully. "Mikey, you always have a choice."

He met her gaze. "Do I, though? My dad already lined up internships. He calls it 'setting me up for success,' but really, it feels like setting me up to become him."

Crizzle's voice softened. "What about what you want?"

"What I want doesn't usually make it past the family filter."

She leaned in, her charcoal-stained fingers brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "You ever think about just... walking away from all of it? Starting fresh?"

He held her gaze. "Only every day."

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Then maybe one day you will."

-

Fletcher Hall Common Room

The lights were dimmed low, the vending machine humming like it had something to say. Mikey sat on the floor, legs stretched out, a bag of gummy worms in his lap. Crizzle was beside him, head leaned back against the wall, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"I wish this moment could last," she mumbled.

He popped a gummy into his mouth. "Why?"

"Because real life's about to happen. Finals. Goodbyes. Grown-up crap."

He nodded slowly. "I've been thinking about that too."

She turned her head. "Us?"

"Yeah."

A pause.

"Me too," she whispered.

The quiet stretched again, soft and dangerous.

Then Mikey said, "If I ever told you I liked you... like, actually liked you... what would you do?"

Crizzle blinked slowly. "Right now?"

"Right now."

She looked straight at him. "I'd probably kiss you."

His breath caught. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "But I'd need to know it wasn't just the moment talking."

He shifted toward her, heart thudding. "What if it's been the moment for months?"

A smile teased her lips. "Then I'd probably still kiss you."

His pulse roared in his ears. He leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough.

Seven seconds.

That's how long it took for the door to open and someone's laugh to echo into the room.

They pulled apart like magnets suddenly repelled.

It was Owen. "Yo! You guys seen the charger-oh. Whoa. Am I interrupting?"

Crizzle scrambled to her feet. "Nope! Not at all."

Mikey stood slower, swallowing the moment down like a bad shot of espresso. "It's all good, man. We were just hanging out."

Owen blinked, clearly sensing the shift in air but letting it go. "Cool. Charger's here somewhere. Carry on."

He disappeared behind the couch.

Crizzle whispered, "Seven seconds too late."

Mikey didn't answer.

Because she was right.

Next Morning – Café Near Campus

Crizzle sipped her lukewarm latte like it was the only thing keeping her from imploding. Mikey sat across from her, stirring sugar into his coffee he wouldn't drink.

Neither said much for the first ten minutes.

"I hate how easy it is for everything to change," she said finally.

Mikey looked up. "Yeah."

"I wish we could pause time. Like, actually freeze it. Just stay in this version of our lives for a while."

He nodded, hands tight around the mug. "I'd freeze it right before Owen walked in."

She smiled weakly. "Same."

A long beat passed.

"Do you think we'll ever get our timing right?" she asked.

Mikey thought about that. About all the almosts. The silences. The looks.

Then he whispered, "We better."

She met his eyes. And that was it.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Just a promise hanging in the air between two people still too scared to make it real.