POV: Mabelle
The moment Mabelle stepped into Goldridge Academy's courtyard, she felt it.
The attention. The hush. The lingering glances.
It wasn't vanity. It was awareness. She didn't just walk through Goldridge — she commanded it. Every inch of her uniform was perfection. The ribbon in her curls, a signature. The slight sway in her stride, deliberate.
But her eyes weren't searching for admiration.
They were searching for him.
Zion.
He stood between Mikey and Kevin, his posture casual, like he didn't care that the whole school moved around him. Like none of this mattered. That detachment—half defiance, half sadness—it pulled at her like gravity.
She smiled at him.
He froze.
So you still feel it, too.
The first class passed in a blur. Mabelle's mind wasn't in the lecture on historical propaganda. It was three rows ahead, where Zion sat, head down, occasionally glancing out the window. She knew that look. She'd seen it before summer. Haunted. Guarded. And now, somehow deeper.
After the bell rang, the familiar rhythm clicked into place: her court assembled.
Isla, the sweet one. Her smile was soft, her laugh uncertain. No one else knew she was hopelessly in love with Kevin—except Mabelle.
Celeste, perfectly unbothered, dating Mikey in the most "non-toxic" relationship on campus. They had no drama. No obsession. Just... ease.
Nyra, quiet and observant. Paired unofficially with Zion through whispers and expectation—but unreciprocated. Her silence wasn't weakness. It was calculation.
The four of them walked together toward the courtyard pavilion, where the boys always sat. Celeste leaned in close as they crossed the garden path.
"You planning to say anything to him today?" she asked.
"Depends which 'him' you mean," Mabelle replied with a slight smirk.
Celeste smiled. "You already know which one."
Lunchtime – Courtyard Pavilion
The boys were already gathered. Mikey and Kevin laughed over something on Mikey's phone. Zion was picking at his food, disengaged.
Celeste immediately drifted toward Mikey, brushing her fingers through his hair as she sat. He grinned without even looking up. "You're late," he teased.
"Fashionably," she answered, stealing one of his fries.
They had a rhythm. Easy. Light. No fire, but no burn either.
Isla took the seat closest to Kevin—casually, but Mabelle didn't miss the way her fingers nervously adjusted her collar. She laughed too hard at his jokes. Her eyes clung to every small expression.
Kevin hardly noticed.
Because his eyes were on Mabelle.
Mabelle chose her seat carefully—right between Zion and Kevin. She could feel the tension simmer as she took her place, her hand brushing Zion's blazer as she sat.
"So," she said smoothly, "no one missed me over summer? That's tragic."
Mikey grinned. "You vanish like a movie star between terms. I figured you were off seducing European royalty or something."
"I texted you," Kevin said under his breath.
"Did you?" she asked, turning to him, eyes glittering. "Guess I missed it between all the silence."
Zion said nothing. But she felt his gaze. Not just on her — in her. Reading her like a book with missing pages.
"I like the ribbon," Zion said quietly.
She turned to him, feigning surprise. "You noticed?"
"Always."
Kevin's jaw twitched.
As the conversation floated between them — jokes from Mikey, comments from Celeste, awkward silences from Isla — Mabelle sensed the balance shifting.
Celeste leaned on Mikey's arm. Nothing heavy. Just habit.
Isla laughed at Kevin's every word, though he barely looked at her.
Nyra was quiet. Zion never addressed her once.
And Mabelle?
She felt the heat of Zion's presence like it was stitched into her spine.
She leaned closer, her voice a soft thread only he could hear.
"You're quieter than I remember."
"Maybe I'm just watching," he said.
"Watching what?"
"You," he replied.
She smiled. A soft, dangerous smile. "Good."
Kevin dropped his fork.
That night, things began to crack.
Isla posted a black screen with the caption: "Tired of being second choice."
Celeste texted Mabelle privately: "Kev's acting weird. Did something happen?"
Nyra's story: a quote — "Hearts don't break evenly. Some just get quieter."
But Mabelle ignored them all.
She was busy texting Zion.
"Did you mean it? That you were watching me?"
It took him seventeen minutes to respond.
"Still am."