Chapter One: What They Said Before I Walked In
Jay's POV
I almost didn't hear it.
My hand was already on the door when voices slipped through the narrow gap—low, tense, overlapping. Not playful. Not careless. These were the kind of voices people use when they think the person they're talking about is still far away.
"Aren't you gonna tell her?"
"I thought the plan was over."
A sharp breath. A chair scraping.
"Are you really saying this was all a plan?"
Someone swore under their breath.
My heart skipped so hard it hurt.
Plan?
I pushed the door open.
Dead silence.
It wasn't gradual. It was instant—like the room had decided, together, to stop breathing. Every sound died the second I stepped inside. No one laughed. No one whispered. No one even shifted in their seat.
No one wanted to look at me.
Heads dipped. Eyes glued themselves to desks. A few people stared straight ahead like I wasn't standing right there. I felt invisible and exposed at the same time.
Cold crept up my arms.
I walked to my seat slowly. Each step felt heavier than the last, like the floor was resisting me. My bag slipped from my shoulder and landed softly beside the desk. The sound echoed too loud in the quiet.
My hands were shaking.
Say something. Anyone.
I looked around the room, searching for a familiar face—someone who would meet my eyes and explain.
"What plan?"
My voice came out smaller than I expected. It trembled.
No one answered.
Then, from the back of the room—calm, unhurried—
"You really wanna hear it?"
I turned.
Keifer was leaning against a desk, arms loosely crossed. He didn't look nervous. He didn't look angry. If anything, he looked tired—like this was a conversation he'd already finished in his head.
My throat tightened.
I nodded.
Once.
He laughed.
Not loud. Not mocking.
Cold.
He looked away first, shaking his head like the whole thing amused him. Then he turned back to me.
His gaze was empty.
"I used you."
The words didn't echo. They didn't need to.
"I used you," he repeated, steadier this time. "And Section E already knows about it."
Something shifted around me.
I looked at the class.
They wouldn't meet my eyes.
One by one, they looked away—at the floor, at the window, at anything except me. Guilt sat heavy on their faces. Discomfort. Anger that wasn't aimed at me but still burned.
They knew.
All of them.
I waited.
I waited for him to smile. To laugh. To say it was a joke. That this was another stupid game.
Nothing.
My vision blurred.
"So… that's it?" I asked softly. "That's all I was?"
"Yes."
No pause.
No hesitation.
The answer landed clean and final.
I tried again—because part of me still hoped.
"So you never—" I swallowed. "You never wanted me here?"
His eyes stayed cold.
"No."
Each answer felt like something being taken away.
My chest burned.
Around me, the room stayed quiet—too quiet. Heavy with everything no one was brave enough to say.
I stood up.
My chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp and ugly.
I didn't look at him again.
I didn't look at any of them.
I walked toward the door.
"Jay—"
"Wait—"
Someone called after me. Another voice joined. Then another.
I didn't stop.
I pushed the door open and ran.
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