JAY'S POV
Jay hit his shoulder on purpose.
It wasn't hard—just enough to be felt. Just enough to send a message.
Keifer barely moved, but she felt the impact travel straight up her arm. She kept walking like nothing happened, chin lifted, pulse racing.
Behind her, she heard a quiet breath of laughter.
"Careful," he said again, like earlier. Like he knew exactly why she did it.
She didn't turn around.
The hallway buzzed with noise as students rushed to class. Jay slipped into her classroom and took her seat near the middle, dropping her bag a little louder than necessary. She told herself to calm down. To reset.
Then Keifer walked in.
Late—of course. Unbothered. His eyes scanned the room once before landing on her. He paused for half a second, then took the empty seat two rows behind and slightly to the side.
Not close enough to touch.
Close enough to feel.
Jay faced forward, shoulders tense. She could feel his gaze on her back, steady and patient, like he wasn't in a rush at all. The teacher began talking, voice blending into background noise.
Jay tried to focus.
She failed.
A pencil tapped softly against her desk.
Once.Twice.
She didn't look back.
The tapping stopped. A second later, his voice reached her—low, controlled, meant only for her.
"Was that on purpose?"
She kept her eyes forward. "What?"
"You know exactly what."
She swallowed. "You were in my way."
A pause.
"Liar," he said quietly.
Her grip tightened on her pen. "You shouldn't assume things."
"I don't," he replied.
She finally turned just enough to glance at him. Their eyes met, and something sharp flickered between them—challenge, curiosity, something neither of them wanted to name.
"You enjoy this," she said under her breath.
Keifer leaned back slightly in his chair. "Enjoy what?"
"Making me feel like I'm about to get in trouble."
His mouth curved—not quite a smile. "You already are."
Her stomach flipped.
The teacher called out a question, breaking the moment. Jay turned forward again, heart racing. She forced herself to breathe slowly, grounding herself in the sound of chalk against the board.
Minutes passed.
Then Keifer spoke again, softer this time.
"You didn't have to walk away like that."
She hesitated. "Like what?"
"Like you were scared to keep standing there."
That hit too close.
"I wasn't scared," she said.
"No?" His voice dropped even lower. "Then why are your hands shaking?"
She glanced down.
They were.
She curled them into fists.
Keifer leaned forward just enough for her to sense him closer. "Relax," he murmured. "I'm not doing anything."
"That's the problem," she whispered back.
Silence followed. Heavy. Aware.
The bell rang, loud and abrupt. Chairs scraped back as students stood. Jay grabbed her bag and stood quickly, determined not to look at him again.
As she stepped into the aisle, Keifer spoke one last time.
"You don't have to run," he said calmly. "I'm not chasing."
She paused, then turned her head slightly.
"Good," she replied. "Because next time, I won't miss."
His eyes darkened—just a little.
Jay walked out before he could answer, her heart pounding, butterflies refusing to settle.
And behind her, Keifer watched her go, already knowing this was far from over.