--
The alarm blared, sharp and merciless. I groaned, dragging a hand across my face before slamming it off. Morning again. Always too soon. I lay there for a beat, staring at the ceiling like it had all the answers I didn't want to ask. Finally, I rolled out of bed and hit the floor running—or more like dragging.
Shower. Teeth. Clothes. Backpack slung over my shoulder. Routine, but barely enough to shake off the weight pressing down. By the time I hit the kitchen, I was already late. A piece of toast halfway burnt greeted me from the toaster. I grabbed it anyway. Food was food.
Outside, the morning air bit at my skin, cool and sharp. The streets buzzed faintly—cars passing, kids shouting down the block, sneakers slapping against concrete. The kind of noise that made the world feel too awake for how tired I was. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked faster.
The school loomed into view, same as always. The courtyard already swarmed with students, voices clashing in a mess of sound. I pushed through until a shoulder slammed into mine.
"You're late again," Jaden's voice came with a grin before I even looked up. He fell into step like it was second nature.
"And you're nosy as always," I muttered, but my lips tugged upward anyway. Only Jaden could drag a reaction out of me this early.
"Relax, man. You'd trip over your own feet if I wasn't around."
He's not wrong. If Jaden wasn't here, mornings would probably feel ten times heavier.
We cut through the crowd together. He carried the conversation without needing me to do much, tossing little jokes, pointing out things I'd missed, like the fact that some freshman had managed to spill juice all over their shoes. Typical Jaden—filling silence I'd never admit was too heavy.
By the time we reached class, the noise had dulled into a steady hum. I dropped into my seat near the back, Jaden sliding into his beside me.
That's when I felt it—
Eyes.
Quick. Sharp. Studying.
I glanced up just in time to catch her.
Amara.
A beauty. Seen but not known. She was smiling at something her friend said, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. They were elsewhere—deep, distant. And when her friend turned away, I caught it: her mask slipping second. Just for a second, her face cracked open, bare and unguarded.
Then it was gone. The smile snapped back, polished, practiced.
But I'd seen it. I'm pretty sure she was staring. But why?
I looked away fast. Easier that way. Can't stare too long.
The teacher's voice cut through the air, dragging the class into motion. Jaden nudged me with his elbow, muttering some dumb joke under his breath. I smirked, shaking my head, but in the back of my mind, her glance lingered.
And I wasn't sure I hated it.
--
The ninety-minute torture dragged on, chalk screeching across the board like nails on glass. I should've been copying notes, but my pen hovered uselessly. My eyes—traitors—kept slipping to the back row.
Him.
He sat like he belonged in shadows, half-present, half-fading. Quiet, unreadable. People around him laughed, whispered, lived loudly. But him? He carried silence like armor.
And before I could stop myself, I was studying him. Not the way other girls did—sizing him up like some prize. No. I was searching. For what? A crack, maybe. A slip. Something real under the mask he wore so well.
Then—damn. His gaze snapped up. Straight at me.
For a split second, it was like he caught me red-handed. My chest jerked tight. I yanked my focus back to my notebook, forcing my pen to move, ink bleeding nonsense across the margin.
Why was I even looking at him?
Joy whispered some joke beside me, and I managed a smile, but it didn't touch my eyes. Not when I could still feel his glance echoing, like I'd been the one exposed.
Why was this happening? I'm the one usually in control. Possibilities flickered through my mind, running wild, searching for a reason—anything I might've done wrong. No. I've never slipped up before, except now. Except now.
A bolt of realization struck me.
I… I do not like this feeling.