Today was Friday, marking the end of my first week of school, and I couldn't be more excited for the weekend. School is a stressful place full of even more stressful people. The endless pile of homework and the pressure of blending in with the cliques made school feel more like a battlefield than a place of learning. But Fridays were my salvation—the promise of a weekend free of drama and deadlines.
Whenever life felt dull, teasing Kyle was my go-to pick-me-up. "How do you even see with all that hair on your face?" I asked, leaning in for maximum effect. He responded with a finger—classic Kyle. Seriously, though, did he have supervision or something? His bangs had grown so long they practically formed a curtain over his eyes, inconvenient but oddly cute.
Kyle and I shared many classes daily, but on Friday, we only had gym class together. That wasn't much of a problem since I could navigate through my classes now without the help of Kyle.
I had a little smile on my face as I made my way to literature class. Literature was an easy A for me, but today's class was a little different; there was some type of excitement in the air surrounding the girls. They all seemed giddy and looked even more put together than usual while I was rocking pigtails. The class was also surprisingly full (considering it was still early), mostly of girls, the seat next to them unoccupied as if waiting for someone. It was awkward standing at the entrance looking for an empty chair without a glaring girl, but I found it.
A few moments later, someone slid into the seat next to me. I didn't look up; it wasn't the first someone I didn't know who sat next to me, I don't know if the reason is cause I'm always early or Kyle is always late. I usually don't acknowledge their presence, and they do the same.
"Hi," the person next to me said.
The voice was rich, smooth, and unsettlingly familiar. My head whipped around so fast, I half expected to get whiplash. And there he was. Jayden. His grey eyes seemed to dance with some private joke, like he'd just strolled into class and decided it was his kingdom now.
"Good morning," I mumbled, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to shift the room.
"I thought I'd be seeing more of you," he said casually like we were already old friends. "But by the looks of things, we barely have any classes together."
"Lucky me," I shot back before I could stop myself. My mouth snapped shut, but it was too late.
His eyebrows quirked, amused, and a slow grin spread across his face. "Lucky me," he mimicked, leaning back in his chair with the ease of someone used to getting his way. "Though something tells me that luck won't hold for long."
He winked.
I rolled my eyes so hard I might've seen the back of my skull. "Is that your idea of charm?"
"It's working, isn't it?"
Before I could fire back, the whispers started. Low, sharp, and unmistakable.
"Why is he sitting next to her?" someone hissed.
"I don't get it," another voice muttered.
The glares were immediate and intense like laser beams boring into my skull. That really pissed me off.
Turning to Jayden, I kept my voice low. "You're the reason everyone's acting like this, aren't you?"
He shrugged, as nonchalant as ever. "What can I say? People talk."
"People stare," I corrected, glancing at the sea of narrowed eyes. "And they're not staring at you."
Jayden tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made my stomach twist. Then he leaned in, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine.
"Let them."
Soon enough our teacher Mr. Anderson walked in. He was the kind of teacher who could walk into a chaotic classroom and silence it with just a look—not out of fear, but out of respect. His thick, oversized glasses always seemed slightly askew, and his neatly slicked-back hair had a hint of silver that caught the light when he moved. Everything about him was polished, from the crisp collars of his shirts to the neatly shined shoes that barely made a sound as he paced the room.
But it was his eyes that stood out the most. They lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning whenever he delved into a story or explained a theme as if teaching wasn't just his job but his passion. It was rare to find a teacher who didn't seem worn down by years of dealing with students, but Mr. Anderson never looked tired of us—just endlessly patient, even when we didn't deserve it.
"Group project everyone" Mr Anderson announced. "Quickly choose your partner, two people each." Kids left their seats and made their way over to friends.
As the girls practically sprinted toward Jayden, and I sank lower in my seat, trying to avoid the spotlight.
"Would you be my partner, Jayden?" One of the girls asks.
"Hi! I wanted to ask him first," another unrecognizable face said.
Jayden looked completely unfazed, as if this kind of chaos was just another Friday for him. Then, as if the swarm of voices wasn't even there, he turned to me. His voice cut through the noise—calm, steady, and direct.
"Would you like to be my partner?"
For a moment, I froze, my brain scrambling for a reason why he'd ask me, of all people, when half the class had lined up to get his attention. My cheeks warmed as I glanced around at the glares aimed my way, but I still managed a smirk that I'm sure they saw. Still... a tiny part of me felt a flicker of happiness, even if I'd never admit it.
What's the harm? It's not like I have a line of people who are asking me to be their partners. "Sure," I mumbled, redirecting my attention, but I could feel the glares like they wanted to rip my face off. Soon, everyone found their partner and was back in their seat.
Mr Anderson assigned a different story to every group. Jayden and I got Macbeth.
"Do you want me to come over, or are you going to come over?" he asked. The only answer I had to that was hell to no. My first visitor would not be a boy. Especially this boy.
"We could just go to the library," I stated, "you know like normal people," and he rolled his eyes; we both made our way out of class, and I walked towards my locker and was followed; of course, people were staring; people always stare in this school.
"How boring would that be" he leaned in.
"The perfect amount of boring for me" I said closing my locker with books in hand.
Jayden attracted too much attention. Unlike Kyle, who made me fell invisible, Jayden presence was overwhelming.
We walked in silence toward the library. After some pointless back-and-forth, I won the argument. So, library it was. The sound of our footsteps echoed in the hall, -which was mostly empty due to the fact people already made their way to class- filling the space between us. I sped up, hoping to shake him, but Jayden didn't take the hint. Instead, he adjusted his stride, matching mine perfectly.
"What are you doing?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Walking. You should try it sometime."
We made our way over to the library. It was my free period, but I was pretty sure Jayden was skipping. He didn't seem the type to care about rules, which annoyed me more than it should have.
The library was a quiet refuge nestled in the heart of the academy. Rows of dark wooden shelves stretched toward the high ceiling, their towering heights filled with the scent of old paper and polished oak. The large windows on one side allowed streams of natural light to pour in, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. The study tables, arranged in neat rows, were separated by small green-shaded lamps that cast a warm, comforting glow.
I chose a table in a quieter corner, tucked away between the history and mythology sections. Jayden followed, his gaze drifting to the faint scratches etched into the table's surface, signs of past students' frustrations or boredom. The atmosphere was heavy with an almost reverent silence, broken only by the soft rustling of pages and the occasional scrape of a chair.
The place was nearly empty, the quiet hum of the air conditioner filling the silence as we found a table tucked away in the corner. I set my notebook down and flipped it open, determined to get this project over with.
"I'll start researching the book and making key points," I said, not bothering to look at him.
"I like your hair today," Jayden said, his voice low and casual as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb into the room.
I froze, my pen hovering over the page. Did I hear that right? My hair?
"Thank you," I mumbled, ducking my head to hide the warmth creeping up my neck.
He leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. "You're not used to compliments, are you?"
I looked up, narrowing my eyes at him. "What gave it away?"
"The way you're blushing," he said, his grin widening.
"Blushing? I'm not blushing," I shot back, snapping my notebook shut for emphasis.
"Whatever you say," he teased, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on me. For a second, the air between us felt heavier, like he was waiting for something.
I cleared my throat, breaking the moment. "Shouldn't you be researching too?"
"Sure," he said, smirking as he grabbed a book. "But this is way more entertaining."
Instead of doing his research like a normal human being, Jayden had apparently decided his time would be better spent staring at me. At first, I ignored him, forcing myself to focus on my notes. But then came the tapping. A slow, rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his pen against the desk.
I clenched my jaw, trying to tune it out. No luck.
"Can you stop?" I snapped, finally breaking the silence.
He tilted his head, a picture of mock innocence. "Stop what exactly?"
"You know what," I mumbled, scribbling furiously in my notebook to avoid his gaze. "The staring."
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught his smirk. And then—tap-tap-tap.
I slammed my pen down, spinning to face him. "And goddammit, stop tapping your pen! It's distracting as hell."
Jayden leaned back in his chair, his smirk growing into a full grin. "Me looking at you is distracting?" he asked, his tone laced with teasing curiosity. He tapped the pen one last time, deliberately slow. "Interesting. Tell me more."
I rolled my eyes so hard I half expected them to get stuck, but it did nothing to cool the heat rushing to my face.
"Seriously, do you ever stop talking?" I muttered, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Not when I'm having this much fun," he said, leaning forward slightly. His voice dropped just enough to make my pulse quicken. "Besides, you're easy to distract."
I huffed and turned back to my notes, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a response. But my flushed cheeks betrayed me, and from the look on his face, he knew it.
We didn't get much work done due to Jayden's constant distractions and I was going to be late for gym class.
"What class do you have next?" Jayden asked as we made our way over to my locker to drop off my books.
"Gym." I closed my locker and looked up at him. "What about you."
He smiled genuinely for a second. "Same. Let me walk you to class."
"Is it really walking me if we're both going in the same direction."
"It is in my book." He shrugged, and I shook my head.
Jayden had his uses, after all, he was the one who showed me the girl's locker room.
The girls' locker room was a maze of worn metal lockers, their paint chipped and scratched from years of use. A faint, familiar scent of deodorant, body spray, and cleaning supplies lingered in the air, mingling with the sound of squeaky sneakers on the tiled floor. The fluorescent lights above flickered occasionally, casting a harsh glow on the space.
Rows of benches lined the room, their surfaces covered in stray gym bags, crumpled sweatshirts, and forgotten water bottles. The walls were painted a bland shade of off-white, though patches of graffiti—mostly initials and hearts—peeked out where the paint had been scratched away.
Conversations buzzed around the room, a mix of laughter, complaints about the upcoming gym class, and the metallic clanging of locker doors being slammed shut. Over by the corner, a single full-length mirror was propped against the wall, its glass slightly warped, distorting reflections just enough to make it untrustworthy for any serious makeup adjustments.
It wasn't an inviting space, but it served its purpose—a place for quick changes and hurried conversations.
Riley was the only person I recognized.
"Lyra, nice seeing you here." Riley said.
"Nice seeing me about to sweat," I joked.
"You know what I'm into," Riley said with a shove. "What's your locker number?" she asked. I told her, and she grinned.
"Conveniently, it's right next to Rose's. She's always late for gym class. Let's make our way in." I changed into my gym clothes then followed her to the gymnasium.
The school gymnasium was expansive, its polished wooden floor gleaming under the high ceiling. Black-and-gold championship banners hung from the rafters, alongside murals of the school's wolf mascot. Along one side of the gym, rows of metal bleachers stretched from end to end, their surfaces smooth and slightly worn from years of use.
The faint smell of varnish mixed with rubber and sweat lingered in the air, while sounds—sneakers screeching, basketballs thudding, and laughter—echoed off the walls. Gym equipment was neatly organized along the back wall, and motivational slogans painted on the walls reinforced the school's dedication to excellence in both academics and athletic.
I saw Kyle standing all by himself, looking oddly at peace in the chaotic gymnasium. Turning to Riley, I said, "I'll be right back," and made my way over to him. She didn't seem to mind, already chatting animatedly with another girl.
Kyle noticed me approaching and sighed dramatically as I tapped him on the shoulder. "Miss me?" I asked with a grin.
"I miss the silence from five seconds ago," he shot back.
"Of course you do," I replied, rolling my eyes playfully. "Do you want to warm up?"
Before he could answer, someone suddenly hugged me from behind. I froze, every muscle in my body locking up at the unexpected contact. The weight and softness pressing against my back made it clear it was a girl, but why was this happening? I wasn't used to people getting this close to me unless they were family.
I quickly stepped out of the hug, spinning around to face the culprit. It was Rose, grinning at me like we were long-lost best friends.
"Hi, bestie!" she chirped, leaning in like she was about to hug me again.
"No," I said firmly, holding up a hand to stop her. My tone left no room for argument.
Rose pouted. "Aww, why not?"
"I don't do hugs," I replied, crossing my arms for emphasis.
She rolled her eyes but didn't press the issue, thankfully. Instead, she turned her attention to Kyle, who was now oddly quiet. That's when I noticed it—his cheeks were tinged red.
Wait. Was Kyle…blushing?
I glanced back at Rose, who was smiling warmly at him, her genuine expression softening the usual sharpness in her features. Kyle, on the other hand, didn't smile back. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away without a word. Rose's smile faltered, and to my shock, she started blushing too.
"Um, I'm going to go say hi to Riley," Rose muttered, her voice tinged with embarrassment. Then, like a startled rabbit, she practically bolted across the gym, leaving me standing there in stunned silence.
I didn't even have time to process what just happened before the gym teacher blew the whistle, signaling the start of class.
The gym teacher was a real sadist. Gym class wasn't just a workout; it was borderline torture. Definitely not for me, but I had to play the part. By the end of it, the only things I could feel were hunger and the overwhelming need for a bath.
I didn't see Jayden again until the end of the school day. As I stepped out of the building, my eyes caught sight of him walking toward a sleek, fancy car parked in the parking lot. I didn't even know what kind of car it was, but it looked expensive—the kind you'd only see in commercials or in movies.
Before I knew it, my legs were already carrying me toward him. "Didn't see you in gym class," I called out, stopping a few steps behind him. "Or for the rest of the day on that matter," I mumbled the last part.
He turned, his hand pausing just short of the car door. There was a flicker of something in his expression—guilt, maybe? "Yeah… something came up," he said, his tone softer than usual. "Sorry for ditching you like that. I meant to come back."
For a second, I didn't know what to say. Jayden, of all people, apologizing? I didn't think he had it in him.
"It's cool," I said with a shrug, playing it off like it didn't matter.
His lips curved into a small, almost sheepish smile. "I'll make it up to you," he said, opening the car door.
"Make it up to me?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"You'll see." He slid into his car but no before offering me a ride to which I politely refused.