INSIDE THE covered court, the ball thudded on the floor. Shouts rose. Shoes screeched on polished wood. A guy caught the pass, dribbled, and shot. The ball swished.
A whistle blew.
Cheers broke from the bleachers. It was only practice for the sports festival, but the stands were full—mostly girls.
Danica Marie Ang rolled her eyes as she entered, arms crossed.
She knew why they were there.
Because of him.
Lyron.
He stood with hands on hips, sweat dripping from his chin. He moved to the bench, grabbed a bottle, sat with a towel around his neck.
Danica walked toward him, slow, steady. The boys on the bench glanced at her. Lyron turned last. His eyes slid back to the court.
He drank.
"Lyron," she said cheerfully.
Danica stood beside him, a faint smirk on her lips.
He turned, face blank.
"You want to see me?"
"Yes." Her smile lingered. "Aren't you friends with that genius girl from engineering?"
"Iyana?"
"So it's Iyana. Mother's forcing me to take an exam."
He gave a mocking smile.
"You mean a remedial exam."
"It's not like I studied to pass," she snorted. "I want to meet her. With you."
He frowned. "What's that got to do with me?"
"I'm not comfortable meeting her alone."
"She doesn't bite."
"Please?"
She slid onto the bench, shoulder brushing his. Lyron flinched. Phones flashed—students snapping pictures—then dropped fast.
He stood at once.
"If you want to meet her, let's go," he exhaled. "She's at the coffee shop this hour."
He slung his bag and walked off.
Danica smirked, hurrying to keep pace.
"What, you like her so much you know her schedules?"
Lyron frowned.
"Tsk." She laughed.
---
AT THE campus coffee shop, Iyana scrolled her phone. A message from Solen: a photo of Lyron with a girl in a purple puff dress.
Another message: Daughter of the Ang family. Great Outsource Inc.
Iyana raised a brow, went back to scrolling. She set her phone down. Her laptop and notebook lay open. She stirred her cup, chest tightening.
Prof. Rodel had promised department funds. Still not enough.
How to solve this?
The door opened. Two figures entered: Lyron, and beside him—the girl from the photo.
Lyron spotted Iyana first. He stepped forward. The girl followed.
When they reached her table, he smiled lightly.
"Danica and I know each other. Family friend. I just accompanied her. She's the one who flunked badly."
Danica smirked.
"Aren't you also bad at math?"
"Not as bad as you," he replied coolly.
They sat across from Iyana.
"This girl is wild, Iyana, so—"
"The hell I am," Danica cut in. She turned to Iyana, face blank.
"I'll be honest. I don't care if I flunk again. I don't care if I leave Mizuri. It's not my goal to be here. So whatever you and Mother deal in exchange for passing—"
"Danica, you're being disrespectful—" Lyron snapped.
"Let her finish," Iyana said calmly.
Danica smirked. "It doesn't matter. Just tell Mother the deal is off."
Iyana sipped her coffee.
"Then I'll be honest as well," she said, smiling. "I rejected what your mother offered. I thought it unnecessary. When I give charity, Miss Ang, I give it wholly, without conditions. But you don't need it."
Danica's brows creased.
"Huh? Didn't she offer money for that project you have?"
Iyana caught Lyron's flutter. Her eyes snapped to Danica.
"What about it?" she said with a wry smile.
"Danica, your jokes are terrible," Lyron cut in, voice sharp.
Iyana gathered her things. She had never seen him like this.
"I've got somewhere else to be. I can't entertain you both," she said steady. She turned to Danica. "Thanks for the honesty. Saves me time."
She walked out.
Lyron stood frozen, staring after her. Then he turned on Danica.
"Why did you do that?"
She rolled her eyes.
"I won't learn anything from her. Her face will distract me."
"What's that got to do with passing?" he snapped.
"I was curious," she said with a cold chuckle. "Wanted to see how she'd react if you were with a girl. She doesn't care one bit about you."
Lyron looked away. Danica rested her chin on her knuckles, smiling at his silence.
"She's got everything except background. I've got everything except math."
"Also manners," he said flatly, still staring at the door.
"She'll never have you. And you'll never have her. Veronika's coming back and—"
"You say things as if you know them."
She giggled, clasped his hand. "Fine. Let's talk about Iyana Jiran. Beautiful. Smart. Cold. You like her, don't you? It's like math—I want to succeed, but I'll fail."
"Again, you act like you know a lot," he said.
"Iyana Jiran will hurt you, Lyron," she sighed. "Too bad for you."
Lyron's gaze dropped.
He gave Danica one last look.
"You're ignorant. Even if your family agrees to your fashion dream, you can't escape statistics. You'll rely on them again. And Iyana's right." He stood, dry. "You don't need her help. I won't help you again."
He walked out.