Detour ahead

Chapter— "Detour Ahead"

The lecture hall buzzed with its usual morning hum — low conversations, yawns, and the quiet rustle of notebooks being flipped open half-heartedly.

I slouched in my seat near the middle row, twirling a pen between my fingers, barely hearing the professor’s droning voice as he clicked through a presentation I wasn’t emotionally invested in.

Zack was beside me, doodling on the back of a flyer. Isaac was two rows behind, pretending not to be tired. Emory, of course, was half-tucked into Isaac’s shoulder like it was a pillow.

Everything felt… routine. Until the professor suddenly paused.

"Before we wrap up today," he said, setting the clicker down with a dramatic sigh, "there’s one announcement you’ll want to hear."

The room immediately perked up. Heads lifted. Zack stopped doodling.

"Next week, the university will be holding its annual off-campus academic retreat-slash-camp," the professor continued, adjusting his glasses. "Yes, it's still mandatory. No, you may not skip it. And yes… there will be actual tents involved."

A collective groan rippled through the room.

"Three days in nature,” he added with a faint smirk, “no Wi-Fi, no fast food, and for some of you — no personality left by the end of it."

Someone muttered, “Kill me now.”

I blinked. Camp?

Before I could even process it, Zack leaned over and whispered, “This is either going to be the best bonding experience of our lives… or a live-streamed horror movie. I call not dying first.”

I gave him a look. “You really think any of us are cut out for camping?”

“Emotionally? No. But think about it — three days away from all this academic crap. Music under the stars. Maybe some truth-or-dare level chaos. And a chance to ‘accidentally’ push Emory into a lake.”

Isaac, clearly overhearing, shot him a glare over his shoulder.

Zack held up his hands. “Kidding! Kind of.”

I stared down at my notebook, heart already racing.

Camp meant tight quarters. Shared spaces. No walls to disappear behind.

It also meant Eren might be there. And knowing my luck? Zander, too.

No doors to close. No guitars to hide behind.

Just open sky, campfires… and secrets begging to slip.

The groans hadn’t even settled before the professor clapped his hands sharply, silencing the room.

“Now. Since some of you are already plotting your escape, let me be very clear…” He clicked to the next slide on the projector, bold text reading:

CAMP RULES & REGULATIONS — READ OR REGRET.

A few students actually leaned forward. Zack muttered under his breath, “Bet ten bucks this guy was a camp counselor in the ‘90s and never recovered.”

The professor held up a finger like a villain delivering a monologue. “Rule number one: absolutely no alcohol, vapes, or controlled substances. Yes, we will be checking bags. No, your cousin’s ‘herbal tea blend’ isn’t fooling anyone.”

A few chuckles spread across the room. Someone in the back whispered, “There goes half the student body.”

“Rule number two: no personal speakers or noise-amplifying devices. We’re here to connect with nature, not your playlist from 2018.”

Zack leaned over again. “This is a hate crime against music.”

I snorted quietly.

The professor clicked again. “Rule number three: no sneaking off into the woods at night. You will be partnered in tents. You will stay within designated campgrounds. If I catch anyone in the forest trying to re-enact Twilight, I’ll leave you there.”

A few students laughed. One girl called out, “What if we are vampires?”

The professor didn’t miss a beat. “Then please refrain from sparkling during daylight hours.”

Even I had to smile at that one.

“Rule number four: no phones after lights out. We want your full attention during bonding exercises and team challenges. Trust falls don’t count if you’re texting.”

I glanced toward Emory and Isaac. She was still curled into his side like she was already planning how to break every rule together.

“Rule number five,” the professor continued, adjusting his glasses, “no bringing wild animals, hot plates, fireworks, or emotional baggage.”

Zack raised his hand. “What if the emotional baggage is a person?”

The professor didn’t flinch. “Then leave him at home, Mr. Collins.”

A burst of laughter echoed through the hall. Zack held a hand to his chest, fake-wounded. “Ouch.”

I sank further into my seat, already dreading the lack of privacy, music, and caffeine.

But somewhere deep down… part of me was curious.

Three days with no filters. No doors. No distractions.

Anything could happen.

And that might be the problem.

I tried to stay focused — or, at least, pretend to.

The professor had moved on to logistics now, droning on about bus departure times, mandatory headcounts, and emergency contact forms.

But I wasn’t listening.

Because I could feel it.

That itch at the back of my neck. That shift in the air when someone’s gaze lingers too long.

Someone was staring at me.

I shifted slightly in my seat, keeping my head still but letting my eyes flick toward the back of the room.

And there he was.

Eren Yeager.

Leaning back in his seat like he had all the time in the world. Arms crossed. That same unreadable expression on his face. Sharp jawline, wild hair tied up, a silver ring glinting on his finger as he toyed with it absently.

But his eyes?

Locked on me.

I blinked once, slow.

He didn’t look away.

Didn’t smirk.

Didn’t make a face.

Just watched me. Calm. Still. Too focused.

I quickly turned back around, heart kicking in my chest like it was trying to escape.

Zack leaned toward me again, whispering without missing a beat, “Tell me why Mr. Long Hair is burning holes in your back like he’s reading your aura.”

I muttered under my breath, “Maybe he’s wondering how fast he can get punched in the throat.”

Zack smirked. “Now that’s the energy I love.”

But even as I forced a smirk of my own, I couldn’t help it — I glanced back again.

Eren was still watching.

This time, he raised an eyebrow.

No smile. No joke.

Just a flick of recognition.

Like he knew I’d look. Like he was waiting for it.

I snapped my head forward again, gripping my pen tightly.

This camp was already turning into a battlefield — and we hadn’t even left yet.

The professor cleared his throat, flipping to a new slide titled TENT ASSIGNMENTS.

“Alright, everyone. Time to find out who you’ll be sharing a tent with for the next three days.”

A few groans and whispers filled the room as eyes scanned the list projected on the screen.

I held my breath, waiting for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N — your tent partner will be Mikasa Ackerman.”

Mikasa? The quiet girl with sharp eyes and an even sharper reputation. We’d barely spoken, but I remembered her from orientation — serious, focused, definitely not the type to mess around. Perfect.

Zack snorted beside me. “Look at that. You get the mystery girl. I’m with Armin Arlert.”

Armin? The studious guy who always had his nose buried in a book. Zack shook his head. “Great. I’ll try not to annoy him too much.”

The list rolled on.

Zander? Paired with Connie Springer. Typical. Two party animals destined to turn the camp into chaos.

Eren Yeager… with Isaac.

Sasha and Annie were paired together, while Reiner and Bertholdt shared the last tent.

I glanced over at Eren. His jaw tightened just a little when he heard the name Isaac — the same Isaac who had texted me earlier about his complicated love life.

The room buzzed with mixed reactions — some relieved, others already plotting alliances or escape routes.

I took a deep breath, glancing sideways at Mikasa, who met my gaze with a calm, almost unreadable expression.

“Well,” I muttered, “this should be interesting.”

Zack nudged me with a grin. “Campfire stories just got a whole lot spicier.”

And with that, the countdown to chaos officially began.

As the murmurs died down, I hesitated before raising my hand slightly.

“Um… what if someone can’t go?” I asked, voice quieter than I wanted.

The professor looked up, eyebrows raised.

“Can’t go?”

“Like, if there’s a reason you can’t make it to camp. Family stuff, emergencies…”

He tapped the side of his glasses thoughtfully. “Well, it’s mandatory, so exceptions are rare. But if there’s a serious issue, you’d have to apply for an exemption through the student affairs office.”

My chest tightened. “And if it’s not approved?”

“Then you’re expected to attend,” he said firmly. “Camp is part of your course requirements.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of that sinking in.

Zack, sitting beside me, leaned over with a half-grin. “Looks like we’re all in this mess together, whether we like it or not.”

I gave him a small, grateful smile but couldn’t shake the nagging worry.

What if I couldn’t go?

Would anyone notice if I just disappeared?

Or would it make everything worse?

The room buzzed around me, but for a moment, all I could hear was the steady thump of my own heartbeat — louder than the professor’s voice, louder than the whispers.

I didn’t even mean to say it out loud.

But the words slipped out anyway.

“This is kind of ridiculous.”

The room went quiet for a second too long. The professor turned from the whiteboard slowly, arms crossed. “Excuse me?”

I straightened in my seat, already committed. “I mean, most of us barely know who we’re paired with. This isn’t some summer bonding movie. What if it just makes everything more awkward?”

A few students murmured in agreement — some of them way too invested in not sharing a tent with strangers.

The professor sighed, clearly weighing how much energy he wanted to put into fighting a bunch of tired students. He glanced at his printed roster, then back at us.

“Look… the goal is to challenge you all to collaborate and step outside your comfort zones. That was the whole point of the random assignments.”

“Right,” I muttered. “Because nothing builds trust like sleeping beside someone who might steal your socks.”

Zack snorted.

The professor gave me a dry look. “Fine. If it really matters to this many of you…”

He looked around, noting the nods and eager faces — and probably, deep down, realizing he didn’t want to deal with the fallout of cabin drama.

“I’ll allow you to select your own tent partners,” he relented, holding up a finger, “but I want names submitted in pairs by Friday. No exceptions. If you miss the deadline, you’ll be assigned again.”

A collective buzz filled the room — instant strategy mode. People were already whispering and grabbing their phones, trying to claim their tent soulmate before someone else did.

Zack leaned toward me with a mischievous grin. “Call dibs on Armin before anyone else does?”

I smirked. “Too late. You’re stuck with me now.”

He gasped dramatically. “The honor. The burden.”

I rolled my eyes, but the relief settled in my chest like a gentle exhale.

At least now I had some control.

But I couldn’t help noticing Eren hadn’t reacted at all. Still sitting there. Still watching.

Like the game hadn’t changed at all for him.

By the time class ended, the lecture hall was chaos.

People rushed to pair off like it was a middle-school dance and the music had just started.

“Partners due by Friday!” the professor called over the noise, already regretting his decision. “And remember — you share tents, so choose wisely unless you want a sleepless three days!”

Zack had already disappeared toward Armin, waving at me like, “I’ll find you after!”

I didn’t mind. Zack would always find me.

What I did mind was what I saw next.

Across the room, Zander was leaning against a desk, chatting up a girl I didn’t even recognize. She giggled at something he said — the usual — and not five seconds later, I watched him casually tap his name into her Notes app.

Tent partners: confirmed.

Of course. Classic Zander. Pick the prettiest, most available stranger in the room.

Then my eyes landed on Isaac.

He was already walking toward Emory — who turned around at just the right moment, smile ready.

I didn’t need to hear it. The look on her face said everything.

He leaned in close, said something stupid and sweet, and she gave this slow, dreamy nod like she’d just been crowned queen of the campsite.

My stomach twisted.

And then I realized.

Everyone had someone.

Except me.

I stood there in the middle of it — backpack still slung over one shoulder, hand clenched around the strap, like I was waiting for someone to notice.

No one did.

Even Mikasa, my default from earlier, was already scribbling down her name next to someone else’s.

The room felt louder. Hotter. Like the oxygen had been sucked out just for me.

I didn’t leave.

Even when everything in me wanted to.

Instead, I stood there — in the fading noise of laughter and excited chatter, bodies pressing past me as students rushed to secure their ideal tent buddy. The room felt too bright. Too loud.

I stayed.

Like some lost kid at the end of a school dance who didn’t realize the last slow song was over.

My fingers clutched the edge of my desk. I kept telling myself I wasn’t bothered. That I didn’t care. That I liked my own space.

Except everyone was being chosen.

Even the guy who once ate an eraser during a quiz had someone come up to him, grinning like they were thrilled to camp together.

Meanwhile, I was still waiting.

Waiting for someone to turn around. To maybe remember I was there. To say, “Hey — want to pair up?”

But the minutes dragged on.

Zander left with that girl, already making a joke I could hear across the hall.Isaac and Emory were basically merged into one being now, giggling like they were starring in a camp-themed romcom.Even Zack, the one I thought for sure would check back, had vanished behind Armin’s curls like they were swapping podcast recs and conspiracy theories.

I sat back down slowly, trying to make it look casual. Like I was just… thinking. Or planning. Or waiting for someone else on purpose.

I watched the clock.

The professor was packing up, hardly glancing my way.

I tapped my pen against the table in rhythm with my pulse, pretending I didn’t care, that this wasn't the kind of thing that would sit in my chest all day like a stone.

Then a shadow shifted in front of me.

I looked up.

And saw him.

Eren Yeager.

Expression unreadable. Hair messy, piercings glinting under the overhead lights.

“Guess everyone’s taken, huh?” he said casually.

My throat went dry.

He didn’t sound mocking. Just… observant.

And somehow, that was worse

I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms. “Do you have a partner?”

Eren leaned against the desk beside mine, casually balancing his weight like he had all the time in the world.

He shrugged. “Couple of girls asked.”

I tilted my head. “And?”

Another shrug. “Jean asked too, actually. Real eager. Practically begged.”

I blinked. “Jean? As in... your best friend?”

“Yeah,” he said, smirking slightly. “Said I’d be the only one who wouldn’t snore like a lawnmower or set the tent on fire trying to cook ramen. But I declined.”

I frowned. “So you said no to everyone?”

He looked at me then, a little more directly. “I’m picky.”

There was something in his tone — not flirtatious, not teasing. Just… knowing.

It made my skin feel too tight.

“Right,” I muttered, looking down at my hands. “Well, good luck with that. Hope your standards don’t get you stuck sleeping in the woods alone.”

He chuckled, and I could feel the sound before I heard it — low, amused, deep.

“I won’t be alone,” he said. “Not if you haven’t picked anyone either.”

My eyes flicked back up to his, startled.

Eren held my gaze. “I figure, if we’re the only ones left…”

He let the sentence trail off, like he wasn’t offering but rather waiting.

Like he already knew what I’d say.

Eren smirked — that lazy, smug kind that made you want to throw something heavy at his face and maybe kiss it right after.

“I figured,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head, “I’d just hold out for my guitar girl.”

My head snapped toward him. “Excuse me?”

“You know,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, “the one who nearly decapitated me with a pillow, pours salt in her tea, and plays angry music like it’s a second language. Thought she might be fun in a tent.”

I glared. Hard. “If you call me that again, I will swing my guitar at you. And I won’t miss this time.”

His grin only grew. “See? Exactly the kind of energy I want next to me in the woods.”

“Why me?” I asked, genuinely confused. “You barely know me. We’ve talked, like, twice. Mostly with you being annoying.”

He leaned in slightly, voice low and smooth. “Exactly. That’s what makes it fun.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

Because the truth was — everyone else had picked. And I was still sitting there. Alone.

But also? This guy was a menace. With a jawline.

I rolled my eyes, grabbed my pen, and scribbled both our names on the form the professor left behind.

“I swear,” I muttered, handing it in, “if you snore, I’m stuffing leaves in your mouth.”

Eren tilted his head, eyes glinting. “You just sealed your fate, Guitar Girl.”

Before Eren could get another smug word in, a voice cut through the air behind us — loud, obnoxious, and way too familiar.

“Yeah, no. He’s with me.”

Zander.

Of course.

He strolled up like he owned the entire building, holding his phone in one hand and an energy drink in the other, that same lazy smirk stretched across his face.

Eren sighed under his breath. “Here we go.”

I blinked. “Wait — what?”

Zander didn’t even look at me. He clapped a hand on Eren’s shoulder like they were teammates heading into a game and not two walking disasters.

“Sorry, sis. You can’t have this one. Eren and I already agreed to pair up. Right, bro?”

Eren gave him the driest stare I’d ever seen. “When did that happen?”

Zander waved him off. “You know. Earlier. I mentioned it while we were talking about the party. You nodded. It counts.”

“That wasn’t agreement. That was me trying not to commit murder with my eyes.”

Zander ignored him, turning to me now with the audacity of someone who hadn’t just completely wrecked my life. “You’ll find someone else. It’s not like you two are married.”

I scowled. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He popped the tab on his drink like it was punctuation to his sentence.

Eren looked between the two of us and let out a slow breath, then stepped back and held up his hands. “Fine. If Zander’s dead set on it, I’ll switch.”

Something in my chest twinged.

But of course he would.

Of course Zander always got his way.

I looked down at the paper in my hand, our names already written next to each other.

Already crossed out in his head.

“Cool,” Zander said, throwing an arm around Eren’s shoulders. “Let’s go tell the prof before someone else claims you.”

Eren glanced at me as they started to walk off. Not quite an apology — but something softer. Almost a question.

I didn’t answer it.

Just stood there.

Alone. Again.

I was still standing there, fingers clenched around that damn form, trying not to look like I’d just been drop-kicked by my own brother in front of everyone.

Then I heard her voice.

“Hey,” Emory said gently.

I looked up to see her standing a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her, brows drawn in a concerned little pinch. Isaac wasn’t with her for once.

“You, uh… still need a partner?” she asked.

I blinked. “Didn’t Isaac ask you?”

She shrugged. “He did, yeah. But I hadn’t written anything down yet. And you looked… like maybe you didn’t want to be alone.”

Ouch. Softly delivered, but still.

I wasn’t sure if it was pity, guilt, or her genuinely trying to be kind, but it didn’t matter. She was giving me a choice.

And for a moment, I wanted to say no.

Just out of pride. Out of frustration. Out of the bitter jealousy I still hadn’t shaken.

But…

This wasn’t about Isaac. Or Eren. Or even Zander steamrolling everything like usual.

This was about not sleeping next to a raccoon behind the campgrounds because I was too stubborn to say yes.

So I forced a half-smile and nodded. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Emory smiled — soft and warm, like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t kissed the boy I once thought might be mine.

She scribbled both our names down on a new form and handed it in.

“Guess we’re stuck together now,” she said. “Hope you don’t snore.”

“I will if you bring those midnight granola bars again,” I muttered.

She laughed, and for a second, it almost felt like high school again.

Back when things weren’t this messy.

Back when being her friend didn’t hurt a little.

But I smiled anyway. Because even through the burn, it felt better than standing alone.