The announcement of the top rank tie had shifted everything. Whispers clung to them like shadows.
Every move mattered—not just for pride, but for the quiet voice in her head reminding her she could never settle for less..
Jason Blake. Samantha Faye Lopez.
No longer just classmates—symbols of a race to the top.
So when their names landed in the same group for English, the classroom held its breath.
"Ohhh, World War III!" someone whispered.
"I'd envy their groupmates—they'll probably get the highest score, but feel sorry for them at the same time."
"RIP to their groupmates," another muttered.
Jason sat across from Faye, that same warm grin plastered on his face. "Looks like we're stuck together."
Faye didn't look up. "Then don't slow me down."
The tension was immediate.
Jason threw out ideas, careless but magnetic. "We need visuals—something dynamic, something people won't forget."
Faye countered with precision. "Clarity and structure matter more than noise. Our presentation should teach, not entertain."
Their teammates fidgeted, trapped in the middle. Each suggestion was another clash of steel—Jason's warmth against Faye's ice.
The silence between volleys was sharp. Jason's grin never wavered; Faye's pen never hesitated. To the untrained eye, it looked like progress. But anyone watching closely could see it: two brilliant minds locked in quiet combat.
Finally, Jason broke the silence, his voice low but laced with amusement. "You know… for someone aiming for the top, you're awfully afraid of risks."
Faye looked up, gaze cool as glass. "…And for someone so careless, you're awfully afraid of losing."
Jason leaned closer, resting his chin on his palm, grin devilish. "You're getting braver by the minute, Ms. Lopez. Honestly, you'd be way less terrifying if you smiled once in a while." pat her hair, Faye invaded.
Faye finally looked up, eyes cool. "…And you'd be way less irritating if you shut up once in a while."
Clint, watching from the side, muttered to himself,' They're definitely flirting… though I can't prove it yet."
The air thickened. No one dared breathe.
By the end, the outline was perfect, but the group was drained—caught between a cold focus that cut like a blade, and a warm confidence that refused to break.
This wasn't just group work anymore. It was a duel—two brilliant minds locked in a war of smiles and silence