JAY'S POV
Jay decided early on that Keifer was the kind of problem you didn't look at twice.
Once was enough.
He stood across the courtyard with his jacket half-zipped, sleeves rolled up like he had somewhere better to be than school. The gang clustered around him, loud and careless, but Keifer himself was quiet—watching, listening, always aware.
Jay told herself she wasn't staring.
She adjusted the strap of her bag, pretending to focus on her locker. Her hands felt clumsy today, like her body knew something her mind refused to admit.
"Don't," she muttered under her breath.
Too late.
She felt it before she saw it—the weight of someone's attention sliding over her skin. Jay glanced up, and there he was, already looking at her.
Keifer didn't smile. He never did when they locked eyes. He just held her gaze like he was waiting to see what she'd do.
Her chest tightened.
She looked away first.
Butterflies were stupid. Jay hated how easily they showed up, how her pulse spiked for no reason, how a single look could ruin her focus for the rest of the day. She shut her locker harder than necessary and turned, nearly running straight into him.
"Careful," Keifer said.
His voice was low, calm, like he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. Jay froze for half a second too long before stepping back.
"I was watching where I was going," she lied.
He tilted his head slightly. "Doesn't look like it."
She crossed her arms, more to steady herself than anything else. "Do you just sneak up on people for fun?"
"Only you," he replied.
That did it. Her cheeks warmed instantly, and she hated that he noticed.
He always noticed.
Keifer's mouth twitched, just barely. "You do that thing when you're nervous."
"What thing?" she asked too quickly.
He leaned in—not close enough to touch, but close enough that she could smell soap and something sharp and clean. "You stop breathing."
She inhaled sharply, just to prove him wrong.
"There," he said. "Like that."
Jay stepped back again, heart racing. "You're impossible."
"Then stop talking to me," he said easily.
She opened her mouth—and closed it.
Because the truth was, she didn't want to.
Around them, the noise of the school faded in and out. People passed. Laughed. Lived their normal lives. Jay felt like she was standing still while everything else moved.
"You shouldn't," she said quietly.
Keifer's expression shifted—not softer, but serious. "Shouldn't what?"
She hesitated. "Look at me like that."
"How is that?"
"Like you already know what I'm thinking."
He studied her for a long moment. "Do you want me to stop?"
The question caught her off guard. Not teasing. Not smug. Real.
"I don't know," she whispered.
Something unreadable crossed his face. "Then we're in trouble."
Before she could ask what he meant, someone shouted his name from across the courtyard. Keifer glanced over his shoulder, then back at her.
"This isn't over," he said quietly.
Jay scoffed, trying to regain her balance. "Nothing even started."
His gaze lingered on her mouth for just a second too long.
"That's where you're wrong."
He stepped away, melting back into the crowd like he hadn't just unraveled her entire morning.
Jay stood there, heart pounding, fingers curling at her sides.
Butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach.
And for the first time, she didn't try to push them away.