Lunchtime was noisy—chairs scraping, trays clattering, voices rising and falling. Everything blurred together, except for the tension in my chest.
Stephen slid into the seat beside me, effortlessly like he belonged there.
"Jade," he said smoothly, placing his tray down. "You're avoiding me."
I wasn't. But I also was.
Since that class discussion, I had felt his presence more than once—his eyes lingering, his words softer than I was used to. He was attentive in a way I hadn't decided if I liked or hated.
I stabbed at my rice. "I'm not avoiding you."
"Ah. So, it's just selective blindness?" He smirked.
Miriam snorted. "Abeg, leave my girl alone."
Stephen turned to her, grinning. "You always her bodyguard like this?"
Miriam folded her arms. "If I don't guard her, who will?"
I rolled my eyes. "Can I eat in peace?"
Stephen lifted his hands in surrender. "By all means."
For a moment, I thought that was it. That he would let it go. But of course, he didn't.
As soon as I took my first bite, he leaned in slightly. "You don't owe me anything, but I'll ask once—" He tilted his head. "Did I do something to piss you off?"
I exhaled. "No."
"Then why do I feel like you'd rather be anywhere but here?"
Miriam gave me a pointed look. She had been saying the same thing all morning.
"I'm just—" I sighed, setting down my spoon. "It's nothing, Stephen."
"If you say so," he said lightly, but his eyes held a knowing look.
I dropped my gaze.
Then, as if my body sensed it, my eyes flickered across the cafeteria.
To him.
Zion.
He was sitting with Segun and Michael, but his food was untouched. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, his jaw set tight.
He wasn't looking at me, but somehow… I knew that he knew I was looking.
And then, as if on cue, his gaze snapped up.
And locked onto mine.
For a second, it was just us.
His dark eyes burning into mine, his expression unreadable—but not blank. Never blank.
There was something tight in his posture. Controlled. But under it, I saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the slow burn in his stare.
Then, as if catching himself, Zion smirked.
Smirked.
And turned back to Segun, muttering something that made him chuckle.
My stomach tightened.
I dropped my spoon, appetite gone.
Stephen, ever perceptive, sighed. "So, it's Zion, then?"
I blinked. "What?"
He nodded toward their table, like he already knew the answer.
Miriam clicked her tongue. "Abeg, forget that one. His own wahala is too much."
Stephen shrugged. "I don't mind competition, you know."
I frowned. "It's not a competition."
Stephen's voice was mild, but his eyes were too direct. "Are you sure? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like he wants to break something."
I stiffened.
Zion wasn't looking at me anymore, but his grip on his fork was tight, knuckles white.
His jaw clenched. Unclenched.
Stephen saw it too.
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You know, for a guy who's always pretending not to care, he looks very—" He tapped his chin. "What's the word?"
Miriam smirked. "Pressed."
"Exactly."
I picked up my spoon again, suddenly exhausted.
"Look," Stephen continued, "I get it. History is heavy. But all I'm saying is… you don't have to let someone treat you like a secret."
I froze.
Stephen said it casually, but the weight of it crashed over me.
Miriam stilled too.
I forced a laugh. "You think you're a philosopher now?"
Stephen smirked. "Just observant."
I swallowed. "Well, observe something else."
He chuckled but didn't push. Smart guy.
Then—
CLANK.
Zion's tray hit the table harder than necessary.
Segun and Michael looked up in surprise as Zion stood abruptly, jaw still tight.
He didn't say anything to them. Just grabbed his bag, turned, and walked out of the cafeteria like the whole place was suffocating him.
I stared after him, heat creeping up my neck.
Miriam made a low whistle. "That was dramatic."
Stephen hummed, chewing a piece of chicken. "Interesting."
I hated that my chest tightened at the sight of Zion leaving.
Hated that part of me wanted to follow him.
But I didn't move.
I forced myself to stay seated. To not care.
Even as my food suddenly tasted like nothing.