The rooftop was quiet, a pocket of peace above the noisy school grounds. The wind whispered around the ledge, tugging gently at Kamsi's braids and fluttering the loose pages of a forgotten notebook lying nearby. From up here, the distant sounds of students laughing and shouting felt like echoes from another world.
Kamsi pushed the door open and stepped out, blinking against the sudden sunlight. Her eyes swept the rooftop—and paused.
Gilbert stood near the edge, his back turned to her, shoulders slightly hunched as if the breeze was weighing him down. He looked… off. Not like himself.
"Gilbert?" she called gently.
He turned at the sound of her voice, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. It looked practiced—like something he'd worn too many times in front of people who didn't care enough to notice it was fake.
"Hey, Kamsi," he said, voice low.
Her gaze lingered on his face. He didn't look okay. Not even close.
"You good?" she asked, tilting her head, a note of quiet concern in her voice.
"I'm fine," Gilbert replied quickly. Too quickly. The smile was still there, but his eyes… they betrayed him. Distant. Tired. Haunted.
Kamsi stepped closer, her brows knitting slightly. "You don't look too good."
Gilbert exhaled and turned his face away, staring out at the field below. "It's nothing," he said, almost to himself. Then he paused, his jaw clenching. "…Just my past. Eating me up, I guess."
Kamsi didn't push, but she didn't step back either. She waited, her silence a quiet invitation rather than a demand. The breeze caught her skirt and tugged it gently to the side.
After a moment, she spoke softly. "Is it… about someone from before?"
Gilbert's eyes flicked to hers. Something tightened in his expression, just for a second.
"Someone you maybe didn't expect to see again?"
His gaze dropped to the concrete floor, and his voice came out barely above a whisper. "You really do have keen eyes, don't you?"
Kamsi smiled—gentle, encouraging. "So… spill. What's going on?"
Gilbert hesitated. The wind moved again, and he let it carry his thoughts for a breath or two before answering.
"She's back," he murmured. "Claire. Michelle Claire."
Kamsi blinked. "Miss Claire? The new counselor?"
His eyes widened. "Oh my God… you *know*?"
"I saw you at the counselor's office," she said softly. "You looked like someone had punched you in the chest."
Gilbert gave a short, dry laugh. "That's exactly what it felt like."
He turned fully toward her now, his expression no longer guarded but exposed—raw and vulnerable in a way she hadn't seen before. The confident, witty Gilbert that most people knew was nowhere to be found up here.
"I thought I was over her. I really did. But seeing her again just—" he broke off, shaking his head. "It brought everything back."
Kamsi nodded slowly, letting him breathe through it.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, okay?" she said gently. "Sometimes it hurts like hell. But healing doesn't come all at once. It's slow, and it's quiet. And sometimes, it means admitting you're still hurting."
Gilbert didn't speak for a moment, but something in his posture eased, like her words had loosened a knot in his chest.
"You're… really something," he said quietly. "You know, Xavier's a lucky bastard. Having someone like you by his side…"
Kamsi's lips curled into a soft smile, her eyes warm.
"You should tell him that more often," she said.
Gilbert blinked, like her words had caught him off guard. His gaze lingered on her face, a mix of surprise and something unreadable swimming behind his eyes.The corners of Gilbert's mouth twitched, and for the first time, the smile he gave her felt real.
Meanwhile Raven stepped in from the blinding sunlight, her eyes adjusting to the bustling chaos of Washington DC International School's hallway.She stepped into the room, her sharp emerald eyes scanning the crowd. With her sleek crimson bob and porcelain skin, Raven looked like she'd walked out of a high-fashion magazine and straight into chaos—poised, unreadable, and impossible to miss.
The air inside was thick with chatter and footsteps, lockers slamming, and laughter echoing off tiled walls. She held a brown paper bag close to her chest, scanning the corridor for the right room number as the scent of fries and milkshakes wafted from the bag.
Room 2B. Found it.
She weaved through the cluster of students, her dark curls bouncing with every swift step, dodging a running junior and sidestepping a couple locked in a hallway hug. When she finally reached the door, she took a breath, straightened her shirt, and pushed it open.
The room buzzed with boys, loud voices, and the rhythmic tapping of fingers on desks and phone screens. But her eyes found him almost instantly—Damon. Leaning back in his chair, long legs sprawled out in front of him, eyes glued to his phone like the screen owed him money. He didn't notice her at first—until he did.
His head snapped up.
"Oh My God!" Damon jolted so hard his chair nearly tipped. "You scared the hell out of me!"
Raven's lips twitched, holding back a smirk. "Sorry," she said simply, her voice calm, composed as she held out the bag.
As Damon reached for it, their fingers brushed. Barely a second. But he paused like the contact struck a chord somewhere. His eyes met hers fully now, scanning her face with sudden recognition.
"Wait…" He leaned forward, squinting. "You look familiar. Aren't you that girl from the club?"
Raven tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "Yeah," she said."I've seen you around... You are friends with the stuck up guy right?" She shot back. Damon raised a brow in question." I knew it.And if by you mean Gilbert… then yes."
Damon let out a laugh.
He turned and shouted toward the back of the room, "Yo, pay her up already!"
As someone fished out a few bills, Raven stood still, her presence oddly commanding in a room full of boys trying not to stare too long. She could feel it—the quick glances, the whispers, the playful nudges. Damon didn't even try to hide his amusement when one of the guys elbowed him and murmured, "Flirting already, huh?"
"Oh, shut up," Damon muttered with a grin.
Just as she was about to step out, she collided with a taller figure entering the room. Her chest tightened. Her breath caught.
Gilbert.
Time slowed.
His familiar scent hit her first—clean soap and something piney. His expression flickered from surprise to irritation faster than she could process. His eyes—those sharp, unreadable eyes—landed on her like she was a mosquito buzzing in his ear.
"Oh, not again," he said with a scoff. "Are you stalking me now?"
Raven straightened, jaw set. "You wish," she replied, her voice cool but seething just under the surface.
Damon looked between them, amused and curious. "Yo, Gilbert," he said with a laugh, "you remember her, right?"
Gilbert's stare didn't falter. "You bet I do," he said coldly, his tone slicing through the thickening air.
Raven refused to look away. She lifted her chin, ice in her gaze. "Can you just get out of my way? Thanks."
Without waiting for a response, she brushed past him—shoulder meeting chest—and shoved open the door. It slammed behind her with a loud clank, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.
For a beat, the room stood still. Damon blinked. Then, with a wicked grin, he turned toward Gilbert.
"I think he likes her," he said, barely able to keep the laughter out of his voice.
Gilbert scoffed in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
Before Damon could answer, Xavier—leaning in the far corner, arms crossed and eyebrow raised—spoke up with a smirk, "Wait till Zendaya hears you called another girl feisty."
Damon froze. "You heard that?"
"I recorded it," Xavier replied, his grin stretching wider. "You're gonna have some explaining to do, lover boy."
"Man, shut the f—" Damon launched out of his chair, lunging toward Xavier as the boys erupted in laughter.
"Tell it to Zee when she hears it," Xavier added, darting toward the back door, laughing as Damon chased him down like a madman.
In the corner, Gilbert finally allowed a small, reluctant smile to tug at the edge of his lips. The chaos between Damon and Xavier gave him a momentary distraction. But as the noise blurred into the background, his gaze drifted to the closed door.
He stared at it for a second too long.
And for just a heartbeat, his chest ached—because even through the bitterness, he couldn't ignore the way Raven's presence lingered.