The bell rang, marking the end of fourth period, and Zara slid her notebook into her bag. It was almost lunch, and her stomach grumbled in anticipation of Mia's infamous cafeteria gossip sessions.
But before she could step out of the classroom, Jake intercepted her at the door, his usual confident smirk in place.
"Zara," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "Got a second?"
Her heart did a tiny somersault. "Uh, yeah. What's up?"
"You forgot this." He held up her pen—a cheap, glittery thing Mia had forced her to buy during one of their mall trips.
"Oh," Zara said, reaching for it. Their fingers brushed briefly, and she pulled her hand back a little too quickly. "Thanks."
Jake studied her, his green eyes sparkling with something she couldn't quite place. "You okay? You've been... different lately."
She stiffened. "Different how?"
"I don't know. Quieter. Like you've got something big on your mind."
Zara forced a laugh, the sound hollow. "Just school stuff. You know how it is."
He didn't look convinced but nodded. "Well, if you ever need a break from... whatever's going on, you should come to the game tomorrow. It's gonna be epic."
"I'll think about it," she said, her voice soft.
Jake grinned, his dimples making her insides flutter. "Good. I'll see you there, then."
As he walked away, Mia appeared beside her, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "You're blushing," she said with a sly grin.
"I am not."
"Zara, please. Jake literally handed you a pen, and you look like you just walked out of a rom-com."
At lunch, Zara and Mia grabbed their trays and headed to their usual spot by the window. The cafeteria buzzed with chatter: the cheer squad debating routines, the debate team complaining about funding, and the soccer team bragging about their latest win.
"Did you hear about Vanessa and Chris?" Mia asked, her eyes wide with glee.
"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me," Zara said, biting into her sandwich.
"They broke up! Right in the middle of Mr. Patterson's class. She called him a liar, and he said she was too dramatic. It was chef's kiss perfection."
Zara laughed, but her mind drifted back to Jake. She glanced across the cafeteria and saw him sitting with his teammates, laughing at something one of them said.
"He's staring at you," Mia said, nudging her.
"What? No, he's not."
"Zara, he's literally looking right at you."
Zara turned, and sure enough, Jake's eyes met hers. He smiled, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks burning.
"Just admit it," Mia said. "You like him."
"I don't—"
"Save it. You're going to the game tomorrow, and you're going to cheer him on like the lovesick teen you are."
The next day, Zara stood in the crowded bleachers, the roar of the crowd almost deafening. Mia had dragged her here, and now she found herself scanning the field, her eyes landing on Jake in his jersey.
The game was intense, and Zara couldn't help but get caught up in the energy. But as the final whistle blew and the team celebrated their win, she noticed something strange.
A man in a dark coat stood at the edge of the field, his eyes fixed on her. She blinked, and he was gone.
Later, as she waited for Mia by the concession stand, a voice called her name.
"Zara."
She turned to see Jake, his hair damp with sweat and a grin plastered on his face. "You made it."
"Yeah, Mia dragged me here," she admitted.
"I'm glad she did." He hesitated, his smile faltering. "Hey, I was thinking... maybe we could hang out sometime? Just the two of us."
Her heart leaped. "Like a... date?"
"Yeah. Like a date."
Before she could respond, a faint sound reached her ears—something like static. She frowned, looking around, but the noise faded as quickly as it came.
"Zara?" Jake asked, his brow furrowed.
"Sorry," she said, forcing a smile. "That sounds great."