Sometimes, rivalry doesn't start with a fight.Sometimes, it begins with a clipboard and too much silence.
The festival grounds buzzed with the scent of food stalls and artificial excitement.
Ethan arrived at the booth area expecting chaos. Instead, he found order—and Isabella.
She stood in front of their class booth in a perfectly ironed volunteer sash, clipboard in hand, hair catching the morning light like it was in on the plan.
"You're early," he said.
"You're late," she replied. "By approximately three minutes and twelve seconds."
"You timed it?"
"I always do."
He raised an eyebrow, but she was already moving, pointing to the table layout and suggesting optimal flyer placement.
Then Lena appeared.
"Hey," she said, tone casual but eyes already assessing. "I signed up late. Figured you needed someone competent."
Ethan blinked. "Weren't you assigned to the math booth?"
"I finished early," she replied, sliding into the space beside him. "Thought I'd help."
Isabella's smile didn't falter.
But she didn't greet Lena either.
"Additional volunteers are welcome," Isabella said instead, flipping her clipboard. "Just don't move anything I've already placed."
"Of course," Lena said, not even pretending to listen. She was already unpacking the decorative tokens Ethan had started on.
They worked side-by-side, familiar in the way people were when they'd survived too many joint projects.
Isabella watched them with the serenity of a queen observing peasants flirt over shared labor.
"You're folding the flyers wrong," she said suddenly.
Lena didn't look up. "Pretty sure I'm folding them fine."
Isabella stepped forward, took one of Lena's stacks, and silently re-folded it—meticulously, surgically.
"Your edges are misaligned by three millimeters," she murmured. "People notice these things."
Ethan glanced between them, unsure whether to laugh or leave.
Lena just snorted. "If someone's checking millimeters, maybe they need better hobbies."
"I have excellent hobbies," Isabella said, too brightly.
Then she turned to Ethan and smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle on his shoulder.
"You should hydrate. You sweat more when you're anxious."
He flinched slightly. "I'm not anxious."
"Not visibly," she said, stepping even closer. "But your pulse is up."
Lena made a noise under her breath.
"Everything okay?" Ethan asked, voice low.
"I'm fine," Lena said.
"I'm perfect," Isabella said.
They both turned to him at the same time.
He blinked. "Cool. Great."
He turned back to the flyers like his life depended on it.
By mid-morning, the booth was bustling. Students filtered in, collecting stamped tokens from each station. The photo booth next to theirs played bubblegum pop too loudly. Ethan was trying not to sweat.
Then Lena leaned in, just a little.
"You know, for someone who hates being the center of attention, you sure attract it."
"I don't ask for it," Ethan muttered.
"No," she said, eyes flicking toward Isabella. "But someone's making sure you never leave it."
As if on cue, Isabella reappeared, holding two bottles of water and a cold pack.
"Here," she said to Ethan. "Apply this to the back of your neck. Your body temperature's elevated."
"I'm... okay, actually."
"I'd prefer if you didn't collapse in front of the student body. It would affect our image."
Lena laughed under her breath. "Our?"
Isabella turned to her, smiling like glass.
"Yes. Ours. He's my fiancé."
The silence that followed was sharp.
Isabella gently placed the cold pack against Ethan's neck. "Right, Ethan?"
He nodded, but his expression was unreadable.
She looked satisfied.
Lena just folded her arms.
"Well," she said coolly, "congrats on the public relations campaign."
Unstructured Thought Log – Entry #16
Interloper identified. Volunteer status: illegitimate.Correction: Presence tolerated for now.Addendum: Subject E initiated proximity with Subject L without visual prompting.Margin of error unacceptable.This is not jealousy.This is quality control.
From the far side of the plaza, Claire watched it all unfold.
Ethan, trapped between two girls and a thousand implications.
She didn't walk over.
She just turned and walked away.
And behind the booth, Isabella's smile never faltered.
But her eyes?
They didn't blink.
Some people win attention with charm.Others seize it with precision.Isabella was never interested in winning.She was interested in eliminating variables.