Ben pulled up outside Clarissa's house just as she stepped out, bag slung over one shoulder, already bracing herself for another long school day. She opened the front door, slid into the passenger seat, and exhaled.
Then she looked up.
Isabel was in the back seat.
Clarissa blinked once. Then again. "Hold up."
Ben didn't even look guilty. "Good morning to you too."
She twisted around fully. "Benjamin Andrew Fisher," she said slowly, "why is Isabel in your car?"
Isabel shifted slightly, suddenly unsure if she was intruding. "He said he was passing my street."
"And you just… got in?" Clarissa asked, half amused, half thrown off.
Ben started the car. "Relax. No crimes committed. I'm a public service at this point."
Clarissa sank back into her seat, arms crossing. "You could've warned me."
Isabel watched her from the back, something unreadable in her expression. "Sorry. I didn't think it'd be a big deal."
"It's not," Clarissa said quickly, too quickly. Then, softer, "I was just surprised."
The car pulled away from the curb. Silence settled for a moment, not awkward, just… aware.
Clarissa stared out the window, heart doing something stupid for no reason at all.
Yeah. This was going to be a long week.
Classes blurred together. Bells rang. Notes were taken. Pretending to focus became an art form.
Detention, however, moved like punishment was its personality.
Mr. Mark stood at the front, arms crossed. "One more week left," he said. "Trust me, I'm just as tired as you all are."
A few students chuckled.
"Sit there. Do nothing. I don't care. Just don't make a sound. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.
Clarissa pulled out her book, flipping to where she'd marked earlier. Ben sat beside her, already restless.
"Psst," he whispered.
She didn't look up. "You're going to get us in trouble."
"So what's going on with you and Issa?"
Clarissa paused, then closed her book just a little. "Nothing. Yet."
Ben raised a brow.
"I haven't told her," she added. "And I don't intend to."
Before he could respond, a sharp sound cut through the room.
Shhh."
Mr. Mark looked directly at them. "Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Mr. Fisher?"
Ben straightened immediately. "No, sir."
Clarissa stared back at her book
Behind them, Isabel sat quietly, elbows on the desk, twisting a Rubik's cube between her fingers. She wasn't rushing it. Just steady turns. Focused. Controlled.
A shadow leaned into her space.
He was tall, dark skinned, broad shouldered, with that careless confidence that never asked for permission. Sharp jaw, slow grin, eyes that looked like they'd already been warned about and ignored it anyway. The kind of guy every mom warned their daughters to stay far away from.
"Need help with that?" he whispered, voice low and smooth.
Isabel didn't look up. The cube clicked again. "If I couldn't do it myself, I wouldn't have it."
He chuckled softly. "Hey, just trying to help. You're going about it all wrong, just saying."
She finally glanced at him, unimpressed. "Thanks. I'll pass."
"Okay, boss," he said easily. "I'm Tyrone. But you can call me Ty."
"Didn't ask."
That only made his smile wider. "You're not even gonna tell me your name? I'm new. Wouldn't hurt to make friends."
Isabel turned the cube once more. "New and already serving detention. That says a lot about your character."
Clarissa looked up.
Clarissa looked up.
She didn't mean to. But she did.
And she saw it. Tyrone leaning back, amused. Isabel calm, distant, untouched. Something sharp and unfamiliar twisted in Clarissa's chest.
She forced her eyes back to her book. Failed.
"Psst," she whispered, nudging Ben.
He leaned closer. "What."
Clarissa nodded toward the back. "Who is he."
Ben glanced over. "Oh. Tyrone. Transfer student. We have music together. I hear he was trouble in his last school…well hence the transfer."
Clarissa's gaze lingered on Isabel. "Figures."
Ben smirked. "Why. You jealous."
She snapped her book shut, just a bit too hard. "Don't be stupid."
Clarissa raised her hand.
Mr. Mark let out a tired groan. "Yes, Miss Whitmore."
"Bathroom," she said plainly.
"Sure," he replied, already done with the day.
She stood and deliberately took the long way down the aisle, passing the back row. Her steps slowed just enough to catch everything. Tyrone leaning too close. Isabel unfazed, cube still clicking softly in her hands. The tension sat there, quiet but obvious.
Clarissa didn't stop. She didn't say anything.
She just took a longer look than necessary before pushing through the back door, jaw tight, pretending she didn't care at all.
Clary slipped into the bathroom, splashed water on her face, then leaned toward the sink, letting out a slow breath. She turned on the dryer, the low hum filling the quiet space.
Suddenly, hands settled at her waist.
She spun around instantly. "Alex," she whispered sharply. "You have to stop doing that. And you shouldn't be in here."
He grinned, unfazed. "I saw you walk in. It's after school hours, so I figured why not."
She shook her head, trying not to smile. "Why are you even still here?"
"Practice," he said. "Coach is running us into the ground with state finals coming up."
She studied him for a second, then said softly, "You look good today. Like… really good."
His expression shifted just a little, pleased.
He leaned in. "I missed you."
Clary leaned in first. Alex met her halfway, his lips brushing hers before settling fully. The kiss was slow, deliberate. He tilted his head slightly, fitting against her mouth like it was muscle memory. His lips moved in an easy rhythm, unhurried, confident.
Her hands rose on instinct, gripping the front of his hoodie, fingers tightening as she pressed closer. She shifted forward without thinking, her body angling into his, breath soft against his cheek.
Alex's hands slid from her waist to her lower back, firm but careful, holding her there. His thumb brushed small circles through the fabric, grounding, familiar. She melted into it, shoulders relaxing as the kiss deepened just a little, nothing rushed, nothing reckless.
For a moment, the world narrowed to the quiet space between them. Just warmth. Just closeness.
Then the door opened.
Isabel stepped inside, clearly just there to wash her hands. She stopped short when she saw them. A brief pause. Then she cleared her throat, quiet but unmistakable.
Clarissa immediately pulled back, hands lifting in reflex. "Um…"
Alex blinked, then laughed softly. "Guess I should go."
He leaned in and kissed Clarissa's cheek. "See you later, babe."
"Yeah," she said, a little breathless.
As he passed Isabel, he nodded. "See you around."
Isabel met his eyes briefly. "You too."
The door closed behind him, leaving the room heavy with silence, the hum of the dryer suddenly too loud.
The door closed behind him, leaving the room heavy with silence, the hum of the dryer suddenly too loud.
Isabel walked toward the zinc, letting the water run over her hands, though she barely noticed the cold metal under her fingers. Her attention was stolen by Clarissa, standing just out of reach.
She couldn't stop the thoughts spiraling in her mind. It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't anger. But the pull she felt…..something unnameable, something that tightened her chest and made her stomach twist….refused to be ignored.
The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating.
"You ready to go?" Isabel asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
"Yeah… yeah," Clarissa replied nervously, fidgeting with her bag.
Isabel straightened, feeling the tension coil tighter around her ribs. As she glanced at Clarissa, a shiver ran down her spine…not from fear, but from the inexplicable weight of the moment.
And for a moment, everything else disappeared.
Clarissa and Isabel slipped back into the detention room, trying to act casual. Benji's eyes immediately flicked toward them, his expression a mix of suspicion and curiosity.
Clarissa wasted no time, rushing back to her usual seat and planting herself, staring at the clock as if willing it to hit 5 p.m.
"Psst," Benji whispered again, leaning toward her.
"What's going on? You look like you saw a ghost," he murmured.
"I… don't wanna talk about it," she replied, eyes still glued to the clock.
"You know that's not how we do things here… come on, Clary… spill," he pressed, nudging her shoulder lightly.
Clarissa sighed, trying to keep her composure. "Isabel… walked in on me and Alex… smooching our faces off," she said, struggling not to burst out laughing.
Benji's eyes widened, and he bit back a laugh. "Whoa… then what happened?"
"I… pushed Alex off, looking like a cheating girlfriend. The whole thing just felt… odd. Because I don't even know if she feels anything… I sure as hell ain't feeling anything from her," Clarissa admitted, shaking her head with a grin.
Before Benji could respond, Mr. Mark's sharp voice cut across the room. "Mr. Fisher, Miss Withmore… do you want me to add an extra hour to your time here?"
"No sir!" they answered simultaneously, both rolling their eyes and trying not to laugh.
As soon as the clock hit 5, everyone stirred, stacking books and gathering their bags. Mr. Mark gave a tired glance at the class and muttered about finally being done for the day.
Ben and Clarissa headed straight for the front door, their footsteps quick with the promise of freedom. Tyrone and Isabel took the back exit, weaving through the thinning crowd of students leaving detention.
"So… detention survived," Tyrone said, glancing at Isabel with a playful grin.
"Barely," she replied, rolling her eyes.
He nudged her shoulder gently. "I mean, I've seen you in class a couple of times… but I don't really know you. What you're like, outside of surviving two weeks in detention?"
Isabel frowned slightly, hesitant. "That's a lot of questions for one day. Why do you care?"
"Curiosity," he said with a shrug. "I figure, if I'm going to run into someone as… mysterious as you, might as well know what I'm dealing with."
She laughed softly, a sound that caught him off guard. "Mysterious? Really? I'm just… me. Not that interesting."
"Uh-huh," he teased. "Says the girl who stayed quiet the whole detention and made it look like surviving a hurricane. That's interesting to me."
Isabel looked away, pretending to adjust her bag strap. "Maybe I just like my space."
"Fair," Tyrone said, grinning. "But I don't bite… unless you want me to."
Hey, Issa! You coming?" Benji shouted from across the yard.
Tyrone raised an eyebrow. "Isa, huh?"
Isabel scowled lightly. "Whatever… bye." She turned and started walking toward Benji and Clarissa.
The look between her and Clarissa was awkward, lingering just a second too long, and Isabel felt a slight twinge of unease. She quickly redirected her attention to Benji.
"Umm… I think I'm gonna walk," she said, hesitating. "Wouldn't wanna make Clary uncomfortable again… like this morning."
Clarissa quickly waved her off. "Hey, that was a joke… you can ride whenever."
"I know, kidding," Isabel said, forcing a small smile, "but I have something I want to… um… drop off, so I'll see you guys tomorrow."
Benji shrugged, hands on the car door. "Alright then, if you insist."
Isabel nodded once, keeping her gaze straight ahead, and walked off. Benji and Clarissa exchanged a glance before sliding into the car, the engine humming to life as they drove off.
Isabel walked down the quiet streets toward downtown, her backpack slung loosely over one shoulder. The afternoon sun hit her just right, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still tangled in the morning's chaos, The kiss she'd walked in on, Clarissa's flustered face, the awkward ride to the car.
She shook her head slightly, trying to push away the confusing jumble of thoughts. Why did it feel… strange? Why was her chest still tight, like something had been unsettled inside her? She couldn't put a name to it, and that frustrated her even more.
Every now and then, her gaze flicked toward the small group in the distance, the way Clarissa laughed lightly at Benji's jokes, how she seemed so… alive, so effortlessly herself. Isabel felt a pang she didn't fully understand, a pull she wanted to resist, but couldn't quite ignore.
And then there was Tyrone….he transfer student who had the nerve to be casually handsome and annoyingly confident. She rolled her eyes but found herself thinking about the way he had smirked, the easy way he had teased her.
But hey… Tyrone doesn't look bad at all.
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at her lips as she continued walking, the wind brushing her hair, and the streets ahead promising the quiet she needed to sort through the storm inside her.