Tuesday, April 30 – Afternoon / St. Ivy High
The Second Half
By the time the lunch bell faded, the halls of St. Ivy were already in motion again.
Not like during regular school days—no uniform rhythm, no rushing between periods—but with a strange fragmented energy. One group ran down the hallway carrying a ladder. Another rolled past on a cart full of paper flowers. The air smelled like printer ink, soda, and faint chaos.
Jay stood by the classroom door, watching everyone floods out.
Not in a rush. Not in a panic.
Just… everyone moving. And none of it involved him.
Guest Star in Someone Else's Day
He wandered again.
No destination. No agenda.
He sat in the library for twelve minutes watching someone from 2-B explain a math trick using erasers.
He walked through the music hall, heard a trumpet player hit the wrong note and swear under their breath.
He peeked into the HE clubs kitchen just long enough to see Amaya bent over a clipboard, scribbling notes while someone fanned steam away from a tray of burnt cookies.
She didn't see him.
Or maybe she did.
But she didn't look up.
Jay closed the door quietly.
Side Hallway Drift
The second-floor hallway—next to the old equipment storage room—was empty.
It always was.
Jay leaned against the window there, watching the tiny courtyard between buildings.
He could hear distant chatter, someone laughing from the science wing, the hum of clubroom fans.
"Everyone's somewhere."
He tapped his fingers along the railing.
"Everyone's doing something."
Luna's Interruption
"Stop moving."
Jay turned.
Luna stood a few feet away, sketchbook open, pencil in hand.
"...Excuse me?" he said.
"You're in a perfect pose. Don't ruin it."
He blinked, then held still.
Luna's pencil scratched across the page quickly, her eyes flicking between him and the lines.
After a few seconds, she said, "You don't look bored. Just… paused."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "Deep."
She shrugged. "You're always in motion. Even when you're still."
Then she walked away.
No explanation. No further comment.
Just Luna things.
The Rooftop Isn't Empty This Time
Jay returned to the rooftop mid-afternoon.
This time, someone else was there.
Noah sat on the ledge, reading a comic book like he was on vacation.
"Welcome back," he said without looking up.
Jay dropped his bag by the wall and sat beside him.
"Still avoiding work?"
"I'm not avoiding. I'm strategically declining involvement."
"Impressive."
Noah turned a page. "Why are you here again?"
Jay rested his chin on his hand. "...Good question."
They sat in silence for a while.
Birds wheeled across the sky. The breeze nudged the edge of a flyer stuck in the corner of the railing.
"I think you're getting antsy," Noah said suddenly.
Jay raised a brow. "What makes you say that?"
"Because the last time you looked this bored, we almost started a black-market snack racket."
Jay smirked. "That was one time."
"And it was glorious."
Another Wandering Loop
After leaving the rooftop, Jay walked through school like it wasn't real.
He passed people, rooms, sounds—like a spirit floating through unfinished stories.
He saw Emma carrying a box of Council forms down the hall. She didn't look his way.
He saw Tyler in the field, chasing the ball and laughing as Iris yelled instructions from the sideline.
He saw Amaya briefly in the main corridor, handing a wrapped snack to a teacher, her braid swaying as she moved.
Jay didn't stop anyone.
Didn't speak.
Just kept walking.
Mr. Brooks Appears
Near the end of the day, Jay passed by the staff room.
Mr. Brooks stood just outside the door with a coffee in hand, staring into the distance like he was mentally firing someone.
He noticed Jay.
"…Still here?"
Jay nodded.
Brooks sipped his coffee. "You're not in any club. You don't owe us hours. You're not on cleanup duty."
"I know."
"You don't need to supervise the school."
"I'm not."
Brooks raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you doing?"
Jay paused.
"…I haven't figured that part out yet."
Brooks stared at him for another beat, then sighed.
"Don't set anything on fire."
"No promises."
The AV Room
Jay wandered into the audio-visual room sometime after four.
It was empty. Dusty. Half of the equipment unplugged.
But there was still power.
Still light.
Still potential.
He stared at the old intercom system, fingers brushing the microphone.
A small light blinked, waiting.
He smiled, just a little.
Then turned it off and left.
Back in Class
At 4:45 PM, he returned to Class 1-A.
The lights were dim. The room was empty again.
He walked to his desk. Stopped.
Then looked over at the old class rep seat—the one he used to sit in before… everything.
He pulled the chair out slowly, sat down, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the wood.
Then, without thinking, he pulled a notebook from his bag and tore a clean sheet.
No heading. No plan.
He clicked his pen once.
Then started writing.
Final Lines
The sun outside dipped lower.
The sky outside the windows turned soft gold, fading slowly into a quiet, electric blue.
Jay finished his sentence. Read it. Smirked.
Then set the pen down.
Folded the paper.
And slid it into the drawer beneath the desk.
"Fine," he whispered.
"Let's have some fun before we're done."