Page 7 of Calculated Risk
"I don't know if I can do this," I admit.
"Work with Marcus?"
"Trust him. Let him in. Risk—" I stop.
"Risk what?"
Risk caring about someone who might decide I'm too much work. Too messy. Too emotional. Too everything.
"Nothing. It's nothing." I close the email. "I'll think about it."
But I know I'm lying. I'm already thinking about it. Already considering his plan. Already imagining what it would be like to let Marcus Chen help me.
And that terrifies me almost as much as losing my thesis show.
Because letting Marcus in means letting him see all of me. The chaos, the mess, the emotions I paint instead of processing.
And if he sees all of that and still walks away?
That would destroy me more completely than any vandalism ever could.
Chapter 3
Marcus
I'm not stalking her.
I'm conducting research.
There's a difference.
"There's really not," Ethan says when I explain this to him over lunch the next day. "You've been watching her studio for three hours."
"I'm assessing her work patterns. She needs a timeline, which requires understanding her creative process."
"You're sitting across the quad staring at the art building like a creep."
I’m hyperaware of my body in space, of the distance between us, of every small movement and what it might signify. It’s exhausting, this constant monitoring. But it’s also become second nature.
"I'm being thorough."
Ethan steals one of my fries. "You know what would be less creepy? Actually talking to her."
"She made it clear she doesn't want my help."
"And you made it clear you're giving it anyway. So commit to the bit. Stop lurking and start helping."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
"She's going to tell me to leave."
"Probably. But you'll go back. Because you're Marcus Chen and you can't leave a problem unsolved." He stands, gathering his trash. "Just... be honest with her. About why you're really doing this."
"I'm helping because Isla asked?—"
"You're helping because you've been in love with Lilah Rodriguez since freshman year and you're too scared to admit it." He walks away before I can argue. "Good luck, Chen. You're going to need it."
I sit there for another ten minutes, weighing my options.
