The hallway buzzed with noise.
Lockers slamming. Voices overlapping. Shoes dragging across polished floors.
Tess walked through it like she always did—
Straight posture. Steady pace. Books held close to her chest.
And pink.
Always pink.
Jacket hanging loose off her shoulders, sleeves slightly too long, bold enough that people noticed—but not soft enough to invite anything.
It wasn't cute.
It was intentional.
Someone stepped into her path.
Or rather—
Walked backwards into it.
Hands in his pockets.
Perfectly balanced.
Like the world would adjust itself if he ever misstepped.
Marcus.
He didn't say anything.
Didn't need to.
Just walked in front of her, backwards, eyes locked on hers.
Smirking.
Tess narrowed her eyes.
"What?"
Nothing.
Just that look.
That knowing look.
Her grip tightened slightly around her books.
"Do you ever get tired of this?"
Still nothing.
His smirk deepened.
God—
He was insufferable.
She rolled her eyes, trying to step past him.
He moved with her.
Of course he did.
Same story.
Every day.
But the way he looked at her…
That hadn't changed in four years.
Four Years Ago
At twelve, Tess had labeled him immediately.
Player.
Confident. Charming. The kind of boy who said things just to see how girls reacted.
She'd seen that type before.
Too many times.
Her brothers.
Their friends.
Laughter that lingered too long.
Comments that weren't jokes.
The kind of looks that made you shrink without realizing it.
Even her mom—
"Don't dress like that.""Don't act like that.""Boys will be boys."
Tess had hated that phrase.
Hated it.
Kindergarten.
Elementary.
It never really stopped.
Just changed shape.
Girls weren't as strong.
Girls were emotional.
Girls should—
Girls shouldn't—
It was exhausting.
So Tess decided something.
If they were going to look at her anyway—
She'd decide what they saw.
Pink.
Not soft.
Not gentle.
Loud.
Unapologetic.
She dyed her hair.
Wore it like a statement.
Like a challenge.
Look at me.
Now try to reduce me.
She forced herself to speak up.
Even when her voice shook.
Even when her heart raced.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until one day—
It didn't.
People stopped testing her.
Especially guys.
It was easier to leave her alone than deal with her.
And Tess liked it that way.
Until Marcus.
Because Marcus didn't back off.
He leaned in.
Present
Tess blinked, pulled back into the hallway.
Marcus was still there.
Still walking backwards.
Still watching her like she was the most interesting thing in the building.
It was irritating.
So irritating.
"…You're going to walk into someone," she muttered.
"I won't."
"Arrogant."
"Confident."
She scoffed. "Same thing."
"Not really."
He tilted his head slightly.
Still not looking anywhere but her.
Still—
Focused.
Tess looked away first.
Annoying.
So annoying.
At first, she'd thought he was like the others.
Just another guy playing around.
But…
He never flirted with anyone else.
Girls flirted with him.
Constantly.
And he—
Didn't care.
Didn't respond.
Didn't even entertain it.
Only her.
Always her.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Why?
Why her?
What was so special?
Or worse—
What was so entertaining?
It's a game.
That had to be it.
A long one.
Four years wasn't impossible.
Not for someone like him.
He liked challenges.
He said it himself.
Her jaw tightened.
No.
She wasn't falling for that.
No way.
Because what happens when he wins?
What happens when she finally gives in?
He gets bored.
Leaves.
Moves on to the next challenge.
Tess's grip tightened around her books.
Not happening.
She turned into the café later that day, tying her apron around her waist.
Pink again.
Of course.
Second Shift was quieter today.
Warm lights. Soft chatter.
Safe.
Familiar.
Until the bell chimed.
She didn't look up.
She didn't need to.
She knew.
Marcus leaned against the counter.
Same spot.
Like he had a reserved place in her life he refused to give up.
She wiped the surface in front of her.
Deliberately.
Ignoring him.
"…You've gotten better at pretending I don't exist."
Her hand paused for half a second.
Then continued.
"I'm not pretending."
A soft huff of amusement.
"Could've fooled me."
Tess looked up sharply.
"Do you want something or are you just here to waste my time?"
There it was.
That edge.
That bite.
Marcus's eyes lit up.
Just a little.
"There she is."
God.
She hated that.
"Order. Or leave."
He leaned in slightly.
Too close.
Not crossing the line.
But close enough that she felt it.
"You always this nice to your favorite customer?"
"I don't have a favorite."
"Mm."
His gaze dropped—just briefly—to the way her hands gripped the cloth.
Then back up.
Slow.
Intentional.
Her heart skipped.
Annoyingly.
"You've been staring at me again."
Her eyes widened.
"I have not—"
She stopped.
Too fast.
Too defensive.
Heat rushed to her face.
No.
No, no, no—
She looked away.
Immediately.
Marcus smiled.
Soft.
Not mocking.
Not teasing.
Just… satisfied.
And that—
That made it worse.
Tess clenched her jaw slightly, turning away from him again.
Why?
Why did he affect her like this?
She didn't react to anyone else.
Not like this.
Not—
This stupid.
Because he's different.
The thought slipped in before she could stop it.
And she hated it.
Different didn't mean safe.
Different didn't mean permanent.
Different didn't mean—
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself.
No.
She wasn't doing this.
Marcus rested his hand lightly on the counter.
Not touching her.
Never forcing.
Just there.
Present.
Consistent.
Four years.
And he hadn't left.
Hadn't gotten bored.
Hadn't moved on.
Tess's eyes flickered toward him for just a second.
Then away again.
…Why?
Behind her armor—
Behind the pink—
Behind the sharp words and steady voice—
Something softer shifted.
Quiet.
Uncertain.
And Marcus?
He saw it.
Not all of it.
Not yet.
But enough.