My Boyfriend Is An Octopus

The next morning greeted Ginny with a stillness she hadn't expected. 

No buzzing phone on her nightstand, no cryptic messages from the unknown sender lurking in her notifications. It was, for once, blessedly quiet. She stretched under her blanket, the weight of the past few weeks momentarily lifting as she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, it had all been a weird joke. Someone bored, someone hoping for a reaction.

And they hadn't gotten one.

Good riddance, she thought, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Her thoughts shifted to Ollie, to the easy humor in his voice and the way he seemed to coax laughter out of her without trying. Last night had been fun in a way she hadn't let herself feel in a long time. He was cute too, in that unassuming, boy-next-door kind of way, and—most importantly—he always fed her. 

That fact alone earned him major points in her book.

As she swung her legs out of bed and padded to her closet, she felt a lightness in her chest she hadn't realized she'd been missing. Ollie had suggested a walk around campus later, something simple, but Ginny was looking forward to it more than she wanted to admit. Maybe it would help, she told herself, tamping down the guilt that gnawed at the edges of her excitement. Maybe it would help her stop thinking about Lyle.

Because that was the problem, wasn't it? The way her thoughts always wandered back to him when she wasn't careful. Lyle, with his steady presence and quiet smile, the kind of person who could anchor you without ever realizing it. It made her feel... bad, somehow, to think of Ollie as a distraction from that, but she wasn't sure what else to do.

By the time she stepped out of her dorm, she'd resolved to focus on the present—on Ollie and their walk and how she could start untangling herself from the mess of emotions that clung to her. But any thoughts of distraction vanished the moment she saw who was waiting for her.

Cass.

He was leaning against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, hands in his pockets, his sharp features softened by the morning light. His grin was already in place, cocky and effortless, as though he'd been expecting her all along.

"Morning, Ginny." 

Ginny blinked, surprised, but recovered quickly. 

"Morning," she replied cautiously, descending the steps to meet him. Her gaze darted around the courtyard, searching for the familiar figure of his twin. "Where's Lyle?"

Cass shrugged, the motion lazy.

 "Not feeling well." he said nonchalantly, falling into step beside her as they started down the path.

Ginny frowned, concern flickering across her face, but she didn't press. Lyle would tell her if it was something serious. Probably. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, her fingers brushing against the folded paper bag she'd tucked under her arm.

"What's that?" Cass asked suddenly, nodding toward it. His tone was casual, but there was a gleam of curiosity in his dark eyes.

Ginny faltered, her grip tightening instinctively. 

"Oh," she said quickly, her voice a little too light. "Just... something I need to return."

Cass raised a brow, his interest clearly piqued. "What is it?"

Ginny hesitated, the words caught in her throat. Inside the paper bag was Ollie's Chess Club jacket, neatly folded and ready to be handed back. Well, mostly ready. She'd kept his Team Physics jacket—the one he'd given her last night—tucked safely in her closet, not quite ready to let it go.

It wasn't entirely selfish, she reasoned. Keeping it gave her an excuse to see him again, to have another lighthearted moment, to let herself forget everything else weighing on her.

"It's nothing," she said finally, brushing off Cass's question with a shrug. "Just something a friend left behind."

Cass didn't press further, but his gaze lingered on the bag for a moment before shifting back to her face. There was something unreadable in his expression, something that made Ginny feel like he'd seen through her answer even if he didn't call her on it.

"Must be some friend."

"Uh, yeah." 

Cass turned his head slightly toward Ginny, his profile sharp in the dappled morning light. 

"So," he began casually, his hands still tucked in his pockets, "What's the plan for today?"

Ginny glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, caught off guard by the question. Cass rarely asked outright; he typically swept her into whatever he had in mind with the kind of confidence that made it hard to say no. But today, his tone carried a note of careful intention, his steps slower than usual as they walked side by side.

"Lyle's tied up with meetings all day," he continued when she didn't respond. "Figured I'd grab some lunch off campus. There's this new place that opened up—thought you might want to check it out with me."

The invitation hung between them like a thread pulled taut, light yet binding.

Ginny hesitated. It had become an unspoken tradition, these lunches with Cass. Whenever Lyle wasn't around, Cass seemed to fill the space effortlessly, his presence easy but charged with the kind of attention that made her hyperaware of every gesture, every word. But as much as she appreciated Cass's company, she had already made plans.

Ollie had been so enthusiastic about letting her treat him for once, grinning like he couldn't believe she'd actually insisted. She'd been looking forward to it too, to their banter, to the way he could pull her out of her own head without even trying.

Cass tilted his head toward her, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he caught her hesitation. He smiles.

"Got something else lined up?"

Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn't ready for whatever conversation this might turn into, for the weight Cass's questions always seemed to carry.

Before she could force a response, salvation came in the form of her name being called—loud and clear, slicing through the tension like a lifeline.

"Ginny!"

Ginny turned quickly, relief blooming in her chest as she spotted Lucy waving at her from across the courtyard, her grin wide and her arms animated. A camera hung from her neck, the strap bouncing slightly as she jogged closer.

"Luce!" Ginny called back, unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. Lucy's timing was perfect, and she silently thanked the universe for delivering her from the moment's awkwardness.

Cass shifted beside her, his expression unreadable as he glanced at Lucy's approach. Ginny felt his presence linger even as she stepped forward, meeting Lucy halfway.

"What's up?" Ginny asked, her voice casual as she shot Lucy a questioning look.

Lucy didn't answer right away. Instead, she turned her gaze briefly to Cass, her grin widening slightly, then she looped her arm through Ginny's, tugging her a few steps further from him.

"Mind if I borrow her for a second?"

Cass raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

"By all means." he said easily, stepping back as if to grant them privacy.

"Come on, Ginny," Lucy said, grabbing Ginny's arm with a kind of practiced urgency. Her grip was firm, but not enough to hurt, pulling Ginny a few steps away from where Cass stood rooted. "I need your opinion on something, and, uh, well… it couldn't wait."

Ginny barely had time to say anything before Lucy was dragging her further down the path, her voice already spilling over in that fast, unfiltered way of hers.

"So, I was out earlier, just doing my thing, you know? Taking some shots for the paper, scoping out places for the new article—they want something about campus life, super thrilling, I know—and then I saw it. Well, not it exactly, but something weird. And obviously, I thought of you, because, well, it's weird and you're weird." Lucy shot her a quick, teasing smile before barreling on. "Not in a bad way, of course. You're cool weird. Like, broody 'I read novels in my head' weird. Not like 'I dissect frogs for fun' weird."

Ginny blinked, barely keeping up as Lucy continued without pausing for breath.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. So, I was near the quad—you know, by the old greenhouse where they say one of the professors had that breakdown and cursed the soil or whatever? Which is definitely not true because I asked facilities and they said the soil's just fine—but that's not the point. The point is, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and at first, I thought it was just a student. But then…"

"Luce," Ginny interrupted gently, trying to redirect her. "What did you see?"

"Right, right! Sorry, I'm getting to it. It's just—you have to understand, it wasn't like, normal, okay? It felt… off." 

Lucy adjusted the camera strap nervously, as though trying to find the words to describe what she'd seen. Her energy, usually scatterbrained and bubbly, shifted slightly, becoming something quieter, sharper.

She fumbled with the buttons on her camera, muttering under her breath. "Stupid thing—I swear, the screen's always acting up when I actually need it to work—oh, here it is!"

Ginny leaned closer, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the image. 

"Luce," Ginny murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper. Her stomach twisted, the unease from earlier that morning returning full force. "What is this?"