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All Chapters of My Campus Kings And I : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

16 Chapters

One

Eli"Mom, I literally just got here. Give me five minutes before you start worrying about whether I’ve eaten a vegetable or not."I tucked my phone between my ear and my shoulder, trying to keep my balance while hauling my duffel bag across the quad of Blackridge University. The air here even smelled expensive, like old money, freshly cut grass, and perfume that cost more than my entire tuition. I wasn't paying for any of this, my scholarship was the only reason I was currently walking past buildings that looked like they belonged in a Gothic horror movie instead of a school."I’m serious," her voice crackled slightly on the other end. "You know how those places are, Eli. Don't let them intimidate you, you belong there just as much as anyone else."I rolled my eyes (even though she couldn't see it). "I don't feel intimidated, Mom, I feel annoyed. Some guy just tried to valet his car by handing me his keys because I was wearing a plain hoodie, so I think I'm going to be the main charact

Two

Cain"You’re still thinking about it."Cole didn’t even look up from the glass of scotch he was swirling. We were back at the townhouse, which was way too big for two people but exactly the right size for two Calloways. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the darker parts of campus, but honestly, all I could see was the reflection of my brother leaning against the kitchen island."I'm thinking about how my neck still hurts from sitting in that cheap wooden chair at the back of the room," I lied, tossing my keys onto the counter so the metal clattered and echoed too loudly in the quiet house."Liar," Cole said, his voice dropping into that smooth, knowing tone that usually meant he’d already won some argument I didn't even know we were having. "You’re thinking about the scholarship kid. The one with the cheap hoodie and the backbone made of steel."I poured myself a drink, the amber liquid catching the light. I didn't want to admit it—I didn't want to tell Cole that I could sti

Three

EliI was starting to think the library was the only place on this entire campus that didn't feel like a movie set.Nobody was trying to sell me on a Greek life party or looking at my worn-out backpack like it was a total biohazard.I had a stack of research papers for my sociology seminar spread out in front of me and I was deep into a chapter on social stratification (which was ironic, considering where I was) when the chair next to me pulled back.I didn't even look up, just assumed it was Petra or some other student looking for a place to crash. Then this scent hit me, and it wasn't the library smell—it was something crisp, like expensive soap and cold air."That’s a heavy start for a Tuesday morning," a voice said.I stiffened. I knew that voice—it was smooth, controlled, and way too familiar. I slowly turned my head and found Cain Calloway sitting right there. He wasn't wearing the designer blazer from yesterday, just a simple navy sweater that probably cost more than my car, but

Four

CainI’ve never been a patient person. In my world, if you want something, you just take it—you buy it, you demand it, or you use the family name to flatten whatever is standing in your way. But with Eli, I knew that wouldn't work. He was like a stray cat: one wrong move, one flash of the Calloway teeth, and he’d be gone, spitting and scratching, never to be seen again.So, I spent the week being everywhere and nowhere at once.I found out his schedule without asking. I knew when he hit the gym, which corner of the dining hall he preferred, and exactly which floor of the library had the "good" outlets for his laptop. I didn't pounce, I just... existed in his vicinity. I’d offer a nod in the hallway or hold a door open without making a big deal out of it. I was wearing him down by being the most reasonable person he’d ever met.By Thursday, the prickle in his shoulders when I walked in had started to fade. He was expecting me now.That evening, I found him in The Inkwell, a tiny, hole-i

Five

EliI was starting to think the Calloway twins were a weather pattern. Cain was the warm front that made you want to take your coat off and stay a while, and Cole was the sudden drop in temperature that told you a storm was coming.I was heading down the back stairwell of the library—the one nobody used because the lights flickered and the air felt like it hadn't been circulated since 1950. I just wanted to get to the dining hall before they stopped serving the only edible pasta they had.I rounded the corner of the landing and stopped dead.Cole was standing three steps above me, just being brooding. He wasn't doing anything—not on his phone, not reading, not even leaning against the wall. He was just standing there, hands in his pockets, watching me come down. The shadows in the stairwell made him look like part of the architecture, something dark and permanent."Seriously?" I asked, my voice echoing off the concrete. "Do you have a GPS tracker on me or something? This is getting sup

Six

Cain I was early. For the first time in three years, I was actually sitting in a seminar room before the professor had even finished his first cup of coffee. It felt weird. Usually, I liked the dramatic entrance, the slight disruption as I slid into a seat while everyone was already settled. But today was about strategy. I wanted to see Eli come through that door. I wanted to see the exact moment his face went from relaxed to guarded when he spotted me. I wanted to see if his shoulders stayed square or if he slouched to hide. I wanted to read him like a book before he had the chance to glue the pages shut. But the universe apparently thought it was funny to mess with my plans. When I walked in, the room was mostly empty, except for one person at the far end of the long mahogany table. Eli was already there. He was hunched over a thick notebook, scribbling something with a focused intensity that made the rest of the world look like a blur. His glasses were sliding down the

Seven

Eli I survived my childhood because I learned how to see things before they actually happened. In the neighborhood where I grew up, you didn't just walk down the street with your head in the clouds. So, after ten days at Blackridge University, my brain had already started filing away data. And the most glaring piece of data I had collected was about the Calloway twins. They were never in the same place at the same time. It sounds like a small thing, but at a school this size, in a program this intense, it was statistically impossible. I had been keeping a mental tally. Cain was in my seminar on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Cole was nowhere to be found. I’d see him in the library on Wednesdays, usually tucked into a corner like he was trying to merge with the shadows, but Cain was nowhere near him. They didn't eat lunch together. They didn't walk to class together. They were like two ends of a magnet that refused to touch. "Is it just me, or do the Calloway brothers have some kind

Eight

ColeI had a system for everything in my life From restaurants to the routes I took and it even extended to people. I ran it all through a quiet, cold algorithm in my head—inputs, outputs, predictions. Always staying three steps ahead was the only way the world made any sense. Structure it right, and it couldn't surprise you. Structure it right, and it couldn't hurt you.Eli, however, was a glitch in the code.I had been observing him for almost two weeks. Not watching. Certainly not wanting. Cain thought he saw the whole picture but he was blind.What I noticed was that Eli wasn’t playing tough. It wasn’t some fragile, rich-kid armor you could dent with a little charm. His defenses were built deep, mixed right into the marrow of his bones. You couldn't sweet-talk your way past walls like that. You had to map the blueprints, find the actual load-bearing beams, and figure out how to work with them.I leaned back in my desk chair, staring at the messy notes I had scribbled abo

Nine

EliWork-study kept me busy six hours a week in the library stacks. Most students didn’t even know these back sections existed. I reshelved books, fixed the catalog, and handled old collections that needed extra care. I didn’t mind the monotony. The library felt grounded. No fake smiles, no loud performances. Just quiet rooms and old paper.I was working in the eastern wing, the section dedicated to dense critical theory. It was always deserted. I liked it that way. I pushed a heavy volume back into place on the shelf and noticed it sat slightly crooked. I straightened it, and a loose slip of paper slid out, fluttering down to land by my shoe.I picked it up. It wasn't scrap paper. It was a page torn from a legal pad, tucked inside the book, covered in notes written in the margins. They weren't just highlights or underlines; they were full responses. Short arguments. A final question written in a neat, dark handwriting. I read the lines slowly."Damn," I whispered to myself. "This is

Ten

EliI always thought the library was the one place where nobody could get to me. I had this specific copy of an old, thick sociology book that nobody else ever touched, tucked away in the back corner of the third-floor stacks. For three months, I used the margins of that book as my personal diary. I wrote down everything I couldn't say out loud. Why did I do that?Don't ask me. I don't even know myself. My frustrations, my weird midnight thoughts, things about my life that I kept locked away. It was my private space. Or at least, I really thought it was.I sat down at my usual desk, flipped the book open to page forty-two where I had left off two days ago, and froze. Right underneath my messy handwriting, there was more ink. But it was not my ink.Someone had written a reply directly beneath my paragraph about feeling isolated.The handwriting was neat, sharp, and slanted to the right. It said, "You are not as alone as you think you are, Eli."My heart did a weird, uncomfortable fl

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