The school bell echoed through the air like a sigh of relief.
Students poured out of classrooms, laughing, shouting, waving goodbye to teachers who were already pretending not to hear them. It was just another afternoon at Sunvale High, that mix of chaos and routine that only high school could ever create.
Kevin Cray moved with the crowd, his bag slung over one shoulder. The golden crest of Sunvale shimmered faintly on his jacket.
"Yo, Cray!"
He turned just in time to see Leon jogging toward him — tall, wiry, with his usual half-smile and an energy that seemed to bounce off every wall. Leon was one of those people who somehow knew everyone and everything happening in school before anyone else did.
"What's up?" Kevin asked, bumping fists with him.
"Same old," Leon said, brushing his hair out of his face. "Principal gave another speech about 'discipline and reputation.' You'd think the guy was running for mayor."
Kevin chuckled. "He's just proud the school hasn't been blown up yet. You know, considering we live in Los Angeles."
Leon laughed. "Fair point. I still can't believe you haven't joined the lower league yet. You've got the genes, man. You could be out there doing cool hero stuff with your dad."
"Yeah," Kevin said quietly. "Maybe someday."
Leon studied him for a moment. "You okay?"
Kevin nodded. "Just thinking."
They reached the open courtyard, where students were lounging on the stone benches, some eating lunch, others filming short clips for their feeds. The smell of fries and sunlight filled the air.
"So…" Leon said, glancing sideways with a smirk. "Have you seen her yet?"
Kevin frowned. "Who?"
"Emily Rivera." Leon wiggled his eyebrows. "Don't play dumb. You've been talking, but not about her yet."
Kevin rolled his eyes. "I just said she's interesting."
"Right. And I'm just saying I 'accidentally' like every photo she posts."
Kevin shook his head, trying not to laugh. "You're ridiculous."
"Admit it," Leon teased. "You've got a thing for her. Smart girl, quiet, mysterious vibe. You love that type."
Kevin sighed. "Leon, seriously—"
"Fine, fine," Leon said, hands raised in mock surrender. "But if you do talk to her again, maybe tell her she's interesting."
"Leon!"
Leon grinned. "Relax, man."
Kevin smirked. "Yeah, yeah." He adjusted his bag. "Anyway, I'll catch you later."
Leon gave him a mock salute. "Good luck, lover boy."
---
Kevin found her exactly where he expected — at the back of the courtyard, sitting under the shade of the old ficus tree near the fountain.
Emily Rivera.
Her hair caught the light like strands of bronze, and her uniform sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. She was reading something — not on her holo-tab, but an actual book. Paper. That was rare enough to be interesting.
Kevin hesitated for a second, then walked over.
"Didn't think people still read those," he said, nodding toward the book.
Emily looked up. Her eyes — sharp but calm — met his. "Some of us prefer pages to pixels."
He smiled faintly. "Touché."
She closed the book carefully, placing it beside her bag. "Kevin Cray, right?"
He blinked, slightly surprised. "Oh please, You know my name"
She tilted her head. "You're kind of hard to miss. Everyone talks about you. Smart, rich, charming… supposedly."
"Supposedly?" he asked, pretending to look offended.
She smirked. "I like to see things for myself."
He laughed softly and took a seat beside her, keeping a polite distance. "Fair enough. So… how's your second week here treating you?"
"Same as the first," she said. "People stare, ask too many questions, and assume I want to be here."
"You don't?"
She shrugged. "It's just a place. A transition. Nothing more."
Kevin studied her for a moment. There was something about the way she said it — like she was somewhere else in her head entirely.
He decided to take a chance. "Hey, I, uh… hope this doesn't sound weird, but—can I ask you something?"
She raised an eyebrow. "That depends."
"It's about your dad," he said carefully.
The air shifted. Emily's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her book. "My dad?"
"Yeah. I mean—" Kevin hesitated, trying to keep his tone casual. "You mentioned yesterday that you don't take scholarships. I was just curious… why?"
Emily's gaze lingered on him for a moment. Her eyes softened, but only a little. "That's a strange question."
"I know," he said quickly. "You don't have to answer. I just—"
She sighed, looking down. "No, it's fine."
Silence stretched for a few seconds before she spoke again, voice quieter this time. "My father… he's gone. Died about three years ago."
Kevin nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head. "Don't be. It wasn't an accident. That's what they said, but… I don't buy it."
Kevin leaned slightly forward. "You think someone killed him?"
"I know someone did." Her tone was calm, but her words carried a cold certainty. "My dad was working on a research project — something for the city's energy grid. The day before his presentation, his lab caught fire. No survivors, no files recovered. But I found fragments. Notes that don't add up."
Kevin frowned. "What kind of notes?"
"Encrypted references to something called the Quantum Core. He never explained what it was."
The name hit Kevin harder than he expected. Quantum Core. His father had mentioned it once — a top-secret stabilization prototype buried deep under the city. He forced his expression to stay neutral.
Emily went on, eyes distant. "I think his death was covered up. I've been applying to every school that'll keep me close to the city. Every scholarship they offer me would send me away. That's why I turned them all down."
She looked at him again, more guarded now. "So, that's the story. Why the sudden curiosity?"
Kevin hesitated. "I… just wanted to understand."
She gave a small, skeptical smile. "You always ask people personal questions you find interesting?"
"Only the ones who seem worth the risk," he said, half-smiling.
That made her laugh — just a short, honest laugh that broke through her composed front.
"Alright," she said. "Your turn. Tell me something personal."
Kevin leaned back. "Like what?"
"Your parents," she said. "What are they like?"
He paused. She had turned the question around on him so smoothly he almost missed it.
"My mom's amazing," he said. "Strong. She runs things at home, and… well, she has this power — kind of like fire. You don't mess with her when she's mad."
Emily smiled faintly. "Sounds like someone I'd like."
"She'd like you too," Kevin said. "As for my dad…"
He looked away for a second, watching the sun catch the ripples on the fountain. "He's… a good man. Always busy, but he makes time when it matters. He's the kind of person people look up to."
"Must be nice," Emily said quietly.
"It is," Kevin replied. "But it also comes with pressure. People expect me to live up to him."
She tilted her head. "And do you?"
He smiled. "Working on it."
---
Their conversation drifted into lighter things after that — favorite shows, classes, the weird food the cafeteria tried to pass off as "nutrient-balanced."
Kevin found himself laughing more than he expected. Emily had a dry sense of humor that snuck up on you. She was sharp, but not cold. Every now and then, her guard slipped just enough for him to see the person beneath the careful words — a girl still trying to understand the world that had taken too much from her.
At one point, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, then answered.
"Hey, Mom."
Kevin tried not to listen, but the tone of her voice softened immediately.
"Yeah, I'm fine… I know… You're leaving now? Already?"
Pause.
"No, it's okay. Just text me when you land."
When she hung up, she sighed and tucked the phone away.
"Your mom?" Kevin asked.
"Yeah," she said. "She's leaving for a research trip. Out of state."
"Sounds important."
"She always says that," Emily said with a faint smile. "It's just another week. I'll be fine."
Kevin nodded, then glanced toward the cafeteria building across the courtyard. "You hungry?"
She blinked. "What?"
"I said, are you hungry? I haven't eaten since morning. Thought I'd grab something from the diner off-campus."
Emily hesitated, glancing at her watch. "I don't know…"
"Come on," Kevin said, standing. "It's not a date. Just… lunch. Two classmates avoiding cafeteria food."
That earned him a small smirk. "You really can't take no for an answer, can you?"
"Not when I'm starving," he said.
She laughed again, shaking her head. "Fine. Lunch. But if you order something weird, I'm leaving."
"No promises."
---
They walked side by side down the tree-lined path that led toward the gates. The city stretched beyond the school walls — cars gliding silently on magnetic lanes, sky-trams cutting through the air like silver ribbons.
Emily shoved her hands in her pockets. "You know, you're not what I expected."
"Oh?"
"I figured you'd be arrogant. You've got the face for it."
He grinned. "Wow. That's a compliment and an insult in one sentence."
She smiled. "You can decide which one I meant."
"I'll take both."
They reached the diner at the corner — a retro-style place with floating menus and robotic waiters that still somehow messed up orders.
They picked a booth near the window.
"So," Emily said as she scanned the menu, "tell me something weird about yourself."
Kevin thought for a second. "I talk to myself."
"Everyone does that."
"No, like, really talk to myself."
Emily shook her head. "You're unbelievable."
---
Their food arrived — burgers, fries, and vanilla shakes. Simple, perfect.
As they ate, their conversation wandered — from classes to movies, from teachers to city politics. Emily told him about the old neighborhood she grew up in, the one now fenced off for "development projects." Kevin told her about getting caught reprogramming his school's drones in middle school.
By the time they finished, the sky outside had softened to gold.
Emily looked at him thoughtfully. "You ever get the feeling you're supposed to be doing something… bigger?"
Kevin leaned back. "All the time."
"Doesn't it scare you?"
He smiled faintly. "A little. But I guess that's part of it."
She nodded slowly, her expression unreadable.
---