8 - cracks in the armor

                                    

                                          
Harper sat cross-legged on her bed, the soft hum of her laptop filling the quiet of her dorm room. Outside, the campus buzzed with the evening rhythm of Ashton University—students laughing in the halls, someone strumming a guitar on the lawn below. But Harper barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, the cursor blinking over a local news article she'd found after nearly an hour of digging.
"Marcus Blackwood, Beloved Ashton University Coach, Dies in Tragic Car Accident."
The headline was short, the details sparse. She scanned the piece again—Marcus had been returning home late after a team meeting when his car collided with an eighteen-wheeler. No alcohol, no reckless driving—just one of those things, the article said. An unavoidable tragedy.
Harper frowned, leaning closer as if the screen might give her more answers. It didn't.
"Ugh." She sighed, closing the tab and leaning back against her pillows.
"What's with the dramatic groan?" a voice called from across the room. Harper's roommate, Sarah, peeked over her laptop. "You've been glued to that thing for hours."
Harper hesitated. She hadn't told Sarah much about Adrian—or rather, her curiosity about him. But after a beat, she answered, "I was reading about Marcus Blackwood."
Sarah's brow shot up. "The Marcus Blackwood? Adrian's dad?"
"Yeah."
Sarah shut her laptop and swung her legs over the side of her bed, giving Harper her full attention. "And why exactly are you doing that?"
Harper shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "I don't know. I guess... I just keep seeing him—Adrian, I mean. Around campus. He's always alone. It's like he's carrying this weight, and no one sees it. I thought maybe if I understood what happened, I'd get why he's like that."
Sarah snorted. "Careful, Harper. That's a dangerous rabbit hole."
"It's not like that," Harper protested, though her voice wavered.
"Mm-hmm." Sarah grabbed a hair tie off her desk and pulled her hair back. "Look, I get it. He's mysterious and broody and probably has some deep, tragic backstory. But you know what they say—curiosity killed the cat. And from what I've heard, Adrian Blackwood doesn't exactly welcome company."
Harper crossed her arms, ignoring the knot of doubt forming in her stomach. "Maybe he just needs someone to try."
Sarah stared at her for a beat, then shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just don't say I didn't warn you."
The next day, Adrian found himself trapped in the worst possible situation: a group project.
He slouched in the back of his communication class, glaring at the syllabus in front of him as if it might burn a hole through the desk. Professor Hayes had announced the assignment with far too much enthusiasm, pairing students randomly into groups of four.
"...and last but not least, Harper Anderson, Marcus Allen, Lily Clark, and Adrian Blackwood."
Adrian's head snapped up at his name, and his stomach dropped when he spotted Harper turning in her seat to glance at him.
Great.
The rest of the class filtered into groups, desks scraping against the floor. Adrian didn't move. He considered walking out altogether, but Harper was already approaching him, clutching her notebook to her chest.
"Guess we're stuck together," she said lightly, though there was a hint of tension in her voice.
Adrian didn't respond. He dragged his desk toward the others with minimal effort, plopping down into the seat like it was a punishment. Harper exchanged a glance with Marcus and Lily, both of whom looked thoroughly uncomfortable.
"So..." Lily began awkwardly, flipping open her laptop. "We're supposed to pick a topic for the presentation. Something about how communication affects relationships."
Adrian snorted quietly but said nothing, staring out the window.
Harper shot him a look before addressing the group. "Maybe we could focus on how lack of communication can cause conflict. Like in friendships or families."
Marcus nodded. "Yeah, that works."
"Adrian?" Harper prompted, her voice pointed.
He didn't turn his head. "Sure. Whatever."
Harper clenched her jaw, biting back a sharp comment. She took a deep breath instead, forcing herself to stay calm. "Look, we all have to contribute something. If you don't want to be here, fine, but at least pretend to care."
Adrian's head turned slowly, his dark eyes meeting hers with an unreadable expression. "You done?"
Harper blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Are you done lecturing me?" he muttered, voice low but sharp. "Because I'm not interested."
"Then maybe you should be," Harper shot back before she could stop herself. "You act like you're the only one dealing with stuff, but newsflash: we're all human. You're not as alone as you think you are."
Adrian stiffened, her words hitting something raw. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken tension. Harper held his gaze, refusing to look away, but Marcus broke the silence with a nervous cough.
"Uh, should we... start on the outline?"
Adrian stood up abruptly, grabbing his bag. "Figure it out without me."
"Adrian—"
But he was already gone, the classroom door closing hard behind him.
Later that night, Harper sat alone in the library again, staring blankly at her open notebook. The interaction from earlier replayed in her head—Adrian's bitterness, his sharp words. He was shutting her out, pushing everyone away.
Why do you care? she asked herself.
But deep down, she already knew the answer. She saw him in those rare moments when his mask slipped—when the weight of whatever he carried became too much to hide. She thought of the picture of Adrian and his father, smiling so easily, and wondered how much he missed that version of himself.
Harper picked up her pen, scribbling a note in the margin of her notebook:
"Even the strongest walls have cracks. Maybe I can find a way through."
Back in his dorm room, Adrian sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the ceiling. The group project was a joke—he didn't need it, didn't care. And yet Harper's words stuck with him, echoing through his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch.
"You're not as alone as you think you are."
He scoffed, raking a hand through his hair. "What the hell does she know?"
But the truth was, her voice had broken through—just a little. Enough to make him remember his dad's words after every tough practice, every hard day.
"Don't shut the world out, son. Even when it feels easier."
Adrian lay back on his bed, shutting his eyes. He didn't want to admit it, but Harper Anderson was getting under his skin.
And he wasn't sure he could stop her.