The sun hung low over campus, painting the quad in streaks of gold and shadow. Devon's trainers crunched over the gravel as he made his way to the basketball court, but his mind wasn't on drills. It was on what he'd glimpsed earlier. Kylie laughing with Iver near the benches, her hand brushing against his as they joked. Something inside Devon twisted.
"Oi, you alright, mate?" Malik's voice pulled him from his thoughts. Devon grunted, tossing his bag to the side.
"Yeah… just… tired, innit," he muttered. But even he knew that wasn't it.
By the time he reached the court, Raya was already there, spinning a ball on her fingertip, her dark eyes catching the last sunlight.
"You look well on edge," she said, arching a brow. "Something on your mind, lover boy?"
Devon scowled, shaking his head. "Not now, Raya."
"Not now?" She dropped the ball and leaned against the railing, smirk tugging at her lips. "Mate, you're fuming. Saw you glancing around like a proper paranoid git."
He turned, jaw tight. "I'm fine. Just… focusing."
Raya tilted her head, noticing the tension. "Focusing, yeah? On what, exactly? Because last I checked, you're here to train, not brood about… someone else."
Devon clenched his fists. "I'm not brooding. Stop twisting it."
"Uh-huh," she said, voice teasing, "sure. And I suppose your flustered little glances at me are just… friendly concern, yeah?"
He wanted to argue, to brush it off, but the memory of Kylie and Iver lingered, like a thorn in his chest. Instead, he muttered, "Whatever, Raya. Let's just get this over with."
Meanwhile, on the far side of campus, Kylie and Iver had settled near the library steps, textbooks half-forgotten beside them. They were laughing over some random meme Iver had pulled up, the warmth between them quiet but undeniable.
"You're mental, you know that?" Kylie said, snorting.
"And you love it," Iver shot back, grinning.
She rolled her eyes but smiled, the tension from Devon and the drama of the last weeks momentarily forgotten.
"Iver… thanks, yeah," Kylie said softly, glancing at him. "For, y'know… being there when things were… messy."
He shrugged, flicking a crumb from his sleeve. "Don't mention it, bruv. Someone's gotta keep you from losing your marbles, yeah?"
She laughed, but a shadow flickered across her smile. "Just… don't tell Devon, alright?"
Iver raised a brow. "Course not. But careful, yeah? Don't wanna give him ammo to go all jelly on me."
Kylie tensed. "Don't… talk like that."
Iver smirked. "Oi, just sayin'. The lad's got a temper when he thinks he's losing ground."
And he wasn't wrong.
Because at the other end of campus, Devon had seen them.
Her laugh. His grin. That subtle leaning-in that had him clenching his jaw so tight it ached. The jealousy hit him like a slap across the face.
"Oi…" he muttered under his breath, voice rough. He turned on his heel, walking briskly toward Raya, trying to mask the storm inside.
She caught his movement immediately. "Oi, careful there, mate. You look like you've seen a ghost or something worse."
Devon shook his head. "Nothing. Let's… just train."
Raya's smirk widened, sensing the unease. "Nah, nah, Devon. Don't lie to me. Something's eating you."
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Don't go all Sherlock on me, yeah? Just… let's get the drills done."
But every time Raya called a pass or made a remark, Devon found himself snapping—sometimes at her, sometimes at the ball, never fully aware. The tension coiled tighter, and she noticed every twitch.
Meanwhile, Kylie and Iver were oblivious, leaning too close while studying shots from last night's game on the court projector.
"Mate, check this play out," Iver said, pointing at a freeze-frame. "If you angle here—bang—you could've scored easy."
Kylie laughed again. "Oi, show me how, then. Don't just talk."
And somewhere, not too far away, Devon's eyes narrowed. He couldn't watch. His stomach twisted as he imagined them together, laughing, close.
Raya caught the shift in his gaze. "Oi… you jealous?" she asked, voice low, teasing, but with a bite.
Devon's jaw tightened. "Maybe."
Her eyes sparkled. "Aha! Finally! Admit it. You're proper jealous, mate."
He scowled, looking away. "I'm not… just focus on the game, yeah?"
Raya shook her head, amused but intrigued. "You know, if you keep looking like a wounded pup every time she's near your mates, it's gonna get messy. Fast."
And messy it was about to get.
Because gossip moves fast on campus. By the end of the day, whispers had started circulating about Kylie and Iver. Some of it benign, some less so. By the time the evening rolled around, both Devon and Raya were aware that the quiet camaraderie between Iver and Kylie had become fodder for rumor.
At dinner, Kylie's phone buzzed constantly screenshots, emojis, snide messages from students who'd spotted her and Iver.
"Oi… can we not?" Kylie muttered, tossing the phone onto the table.
Iver sighed. "Don't mind it. Let 'em yap. You and me? We know the score."
But Devon had already heard the chatter from his teammates.
"Mate, you seeing this?" Jay nudged him. "Kylie and Iver, all over the quad. Word is Raya's noticed too."
Devon's stomach twisted. "Yeah… I saw."
"And?" Jay pressed.
Devon shook his head, voice low. "And nothing. But it's… it's gnawing at me, innit."
Raya, leaning casually against the wall, caught his look. "See? Told ya. Jealousy don't suit you, Devon. Makes you twitchy, innit?"
He glared at her, but there was no fire only frustration. "Not twitchy. Alert. She's… I don't know… close with him."
Raya raised her brows. "Close? Or just friendly?"
"Friendly or not, it's enough to make me… mad, yeah?" He ran a hand down his face.
She laughed, a soft, teasing sound. "Oi, Devon, mate. You gotta sort your feelings before you blow a gasket. Or worse—push me away."
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither moved. The air between them pulsed with something fragile; anger, attraction, jealousy, and tension all wrapped together.
Later, under the dim campus lights, Devon found himself walking toward the quad again, hoping to see Kylie alone, but Iver was there, sitting on the steps, her head tilted back in laughter.
The ache inside Devon twisted. He stopped, unable to step closer.
Raya, appearing beside him silently, crossed her arms. "Oi… you're glaring at him like he nicked your last pint. Chill, mate."
"I can't," Devon muttered, voice tight. "It's… not fair."
"Fair? Life's never fair, Devon. Neither is love," she said softly, though the corner of her mouth twitched with something unreadable. "But you keep fixating on this, yeah? You're letting it eat you."
"I'm… not," he muttered, but his eyes betrayed him.
Raya nudged him with an elbow. "Mate, jealousy's natural. But you gotta channel it, not stew in it."
Devon let out a breath, forcing himself to step back, to control the fire simmering inside. But as he watched Kylie and Iver disappear around the corner, he couldn't shake the pang.
"Oi," Raya said, voice low, "don't let it drive you to daft decisions. Or you'll end up losing more than you think."
Devon's hand twitched, almost to reach for her, but he didn't. He just nodded, knowing she was right.
And somewhere, unnoticed by him, Kylie and Iver had paused around the next building. "Did he… notice?" Kylie whispered.
Iver shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Let him stew a bit. We ain't doing nothing wrong."
Kylie exhaled, eyes lingering on the path Devon had taken. "I hope he realises… Iver's just a mate."
Iver smirked. "Course he will. Or maybe it'll drive him daft enough to fix his feelings."
And for Devon, the night stretched ahead like a tightrope—one false move, one snap of jealousy, and everything could unravel.
Yet, amid the tension, the drama, and the unspoken truths, one thing was certain: everyone was learning just how fragile trust could be, how sharp jealousy could cut, and how tangled hearts could become when the edges of trust were tested.