His name was Kezi.
Nobody knew if that was short for something, or if he'd just made it up. He was the kind of guy who wore black hoodies in hot weather, drew weird doodles on his notebooks during class, and said stuff like, "Reality is just a poorly written novel anyway."
But somehow, he always made people laugh.
Mira liked him because he didn't try too hard. He was weird, unapologetically so. And he didn't treat her like she was "Maya's twin." He just called her "Red," because of the time she accidentally spilled red paint on her sneakers and never bothered to wash it off.
"Red," he said one morning, flopping down beside her on the front steps of the school. "Tell me—on a scale of one to pure emotional meltdown—how are we feeling today?"
Mira smirked. "I'd say mild chaos."
"Respectable. Should I bring popcorn or bail early?"
She laughed, but her eyes drifted past him—toward the courtyard, where Jay was talking to Maya again. The two of them stood under a jacaranda tree, purple blossoms falling like soft snow. Maya was laughing—open, sweet, head tilted back—and Jay's eyes didn't move from her face.
Mira's smile dimmed.
Kezi followed her gaze, then made a face. "Ohhh."
"What?"
He leaned closer. "You've got it bad for the smiley dude, huh?"
"I don't."
"You do."
"I don't," Mira snapped. Then, softer, "It's not like that."
Kezi raised a brow but said nothing.
He just offered her a mango-flavored lollipop.
Later that afternoon, Jay found Mira in the art room again.
"Hey," he said, holding up a smoothie. "Figured you might skip lunch again."
She blinked. "You… brought this for me?"
He shrugged, but his voice was warm. "Call it a peace offering."
"For what?"
"For disappearing on you lately."
She took the drink and sipped. "You didn't disappear."
Jay sat beside her, his knees bumping hers. "I've just been... busy. Figuring things out."
Mira looked at him. "And have you?"
Jay hesitated. "A little."
"Does Maya help with that?"
He blinked at her tone. "What?"
"I just… see you two talking a lot."
Jay chuckled softly. "She's easy to talk to. So are you."
"No, I'm not."
He looked at her, really looked. "You're harder to read. That's not the same thing."
For a second, the room felt quieter. Like the colors had muted.
Mira swallowed. "Why do you talk to me at all?"
"Because you make me think," he said. "And because I like hearing your voice."
It was barely above a whisper, but it made her chest tighten.
He stood, gave her a crooked smile, and left.
She didn't finish the smoothie.
That night, Maya found Mira sitting on the floor of their room, sketching.
"Is that Kezi?" Maya asked, peeking at the paper. "He looks… like a gremlin."
"That's the goal."
Maya laughed, then sat beside her. "He's weird, But kind of fun."
"Yeah," Mira said. "He's not fake."
They were quiet for a moment.
Then Maya asked, "Is everything okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know," Maya said. "You've just been… distant."
Mira didn't answer right away. She kept shading the corner of Kezi's weirdly triangular head.
"You and Jay seem close," she said finally.
Maya blinked. "We're just friends."
Mira's pencil paused. "Are you sure?"
Maya turned to look at her. "Do you like him?"
Silence.
Mira stood. "Forget it. It doesn't matter."
"Mira—"
"I said forget it."
The next day, Kezi caught up to Mira between classes.
"You look like you want to burn the school down," he said cheerfully. "Need a flamethrower? I know a guy."
"I'm fine."
He studied her for a second. "You know," he said, twirling a pen between his fingers, "when someone says they're fine that fast, they're usually about four emotional explosions away from breaking down in the school bathroom."
Mira sighed.
Kezi nudged her with his shoulder. "You wanna talk, Red, I'm here. You don't… I'm still here. Being annoying. As is my sacred duty."
She smiled, despite herself. "Thanks."
"Anytime."
By the end of the week, Jay stopped by the twins' table at lunch.
"Hey, mind if I sit?"
Maya nodded. Mira didn't speak.
Jay sat, tossing an apple in his hand. "Heard you're both heading to that poetry night next Friday?"
"We are," Maya said. "You coming?"
"Maybe. I've been writing some stuff."
Maya's eyes lit up. "Really? What kind?"
Jay shrugged. "Personal. Kind of raw. I'm not sure if it's any good."
"You should read it to us."
Mira's fork clinked hard against her tray. "Or don't. Keep your secrets."
Jay blinked. "Wasn't planning on spilling them all."
Kezi, who had just arrived, sat between them with a dramatic sigh.
"God, the tension. If you two were any more awkward, I'd sell tickets."
Mira stood. "I'm not hungry."
She walked off without another word.
Jay looked stunned. Maya looked worried. Kezi just watched her leave, then muttered, "That girl's heart is made of cracked lightning and loud silence."
No one replied.
Because somehow, that felt true.