April 15 – Monday / St. Ivy High – Classroom 1-A, Library, and Hallways
The Announcement
"Alright, you caffeine-dependent goblins," Mr. Brooks said as he dropped a stack of packets onto his desk like they personally offended him. "It's here. Final exam week begins next Monday."
Collective groaning echoed through the classroom like a funeral chant.
Jay barely heard it.
His eyes were on the page in front of him, but his mind was somewhere else—still lingering in the hallways of last week's words. Amaya's soft voice. Sofia's cracking sarcasm. That quiet ache in Emma's eyes when she'd asked if he cared.
"Focus up," Brooks barked. "These tests determine your final rankings. Top ten go straight to summer scholarship interviews. Bottom ten go straight to group tutoring with Ms. Kasumi, who once made a senior cry because he misspelled 'photosynthesis.' Choose your fate."
That got everyone's attention.
Jay blinked.
Emma, seated beside him, raised a brow. "You in?"
Jay looked at her. "Yeah. Just… rebooting."
Emma didn't press.
But she knew.
Study Wars Begin
By lunch, alliances had already begun forming.
Luna, Noah, and Miles had taken over one of the library tables with color-coded folders and stacks of index cards.
Amaya and Iris sat near the window, flipping through science notes while Iris animatedly explained the mitochondria like it was a soap opera.
Tyler had... wandered.
Emma sat across from Jay, flipping through her planner. "We have five days. Four core subjects. Plus the written leadership essay Brooks is sneaking in. We'll need blocks."
Jay blinked. "Blocks?"
"Math in the morning. Science after lunch. English and social afterschool."
He smiled faintly. "When did you become a general?"
"When you stopped acting like one."
Jay nodded.
Emma looked up.
A beat of silence passed.
Then Sofia slid into the seat beside him. No invitation. No smile.
"History review starts tomorrow," she said. "If you flake, I'm letting Miles quiz you shirtless."
Jay sighed. "That a threat or a bribe?"
Sofia ignored it. Her eyes flicked to Emma, then back to Jay.
The message was clear.
They were talking. But things weren't fixed.
The Library Breakdown
Tuesday.
Jay stared at his notebook.
The same paragraph.
For thirty minutes.
Emma was beside him, pencil scratching in clean, fast lines. Her notes were so neat they looked printed.
Across the table, Sofia was highlighting a textbook with a level of aggression that made the pen squeak.
Amaya sat in the corner near the window, her notes barely touched. She was kneading a piece of paper—folding and unfolding it like it would give her answers if she twisted it just right.
Jay stood.
No warning.
No word.
Just walked out.
Emma looked up, startled.
Sofia narrowed her eyes.
Amaya didn't even move.
The Rooftop (Again)
Jay leaned against the railing, wind sharp against his cheeks. The city looked calm from here. Detached. Like none of the drama could reach this high.
But he still felt it.
All of it.
The tension. The quiet expectations. The unfinished sentences hanging in every room he entered.
He didn't know how to be what they wanted anymore.
Didn't know who he was trying to prove anything to.
Didn't even know if he was studying for himself or because falling short now would feel like losing to a version of himself he didn't like anymore.
Footsteps.
He didn't turn.
Emma walked up beside him.
Said nothing for a long time.
Then finally: "Are you okay?"
Jay shook his head. "No. But I'm trying."
She nodded. "That's enough."
They stood in silence.
"I thought I could juggle it all," he said. "Being back. Being normal. Being… whatever they think I am."
Emma glanced at him. "You don't have to be anything."
Jay smiled, tired. "Feels like I do."
Emma didn't say anything to that.
Instead, she reached over and flicked his forehead.
He blinked.
"Ow."
"Stop spiralling," she said. "Or at least spiral with a plan."
Jay laughed under his breath. "That's very you."
"I'll take it as a compliment."
Then she handed him a small folded page.
"Your study schedule," she said. "Color-coded. Condensed. Sanity-approved."
Jay stared.
"You made this… for me?"
She gave him a look. "If I let you crash and burn, I'd have to listen to Tyler say 'told you so' for a week."
"…Thanks."
Emma looked at him, voice gentler now. "You don't have to do it alone, Jay."
He looked back at her.
And in that moment—it didn't feel like the pressure disappeared.
But it felt… shared.
And that was something.
Friday Looms
By Friday, everything was moving again.
Jay was in every study block.
Focused.
Present.
Joking again—barely.
But something in the way he answered questions changed. Sharper. Slower. Like he wasn't just solving problems—he was rebuilding muscle memory.
Tyler noticed.
"Yo," he whispered during English, "I haven't seen this Jay since November."
Jay grinned faintly. "Don't get used to it."
"Too late. I'm already printing T-shirts."
Amaya passed them in the hallway that afternoon.
Jay started to say something.
But her gaze didn't meet his.
Sofia followed behind, her arms crossed.
Emma walked beside Jay. They didn't talk. But their steps matched.
End of the Week
That night, Jay sat on his balcony again.
The city below buzzed with weekend noise.
Inside, his books were stacked. Notes highlighted. His mind still spinning.
But somewhere beneath all of it—there was a steadiness.
Not peace.
Not yet.
But the kind of balance that came from knowing he was trying.
That he wasn't running anymore.
That next week—he'd face it all.
One page at a time.