It was the last period, and the classroom was buzzing again.
"Alright, everyone," said Adam, standing at the front. "Today's class will be a group project. Pairs. I've already assigned the teams."
A collective groan.
Elena sat up, flipping her notebook open, already praying: Please not Joel. Anyone but Joel.
Adam began reading the list. "Fathima and Aishwarya."
They high-fived.
"Elena and… Joel."
Elena's pen slipped out of her hand.
Joel looked up slowly from where he was sketching a music note on the edge of his notebook. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Is that a complaint, Joel?" Adam raised an eyebrow.
"Not at all," he smirked. "Just surprised you'd pair a lion with a... cactus."
Adam didn't even blink. "Try not to stab each other. The topic is: 'Creative Interpretation of a Classic Poem.' You have twenty minutes to brainstorm."
Elena walked stiffly over to the desk Joel had shifted to.
He looked up. "So, boss. What's the plan? You recite poetry and I nap?"
"You nap and I tape your mouth shut," she said flatly, sitting beside him, keeping a good six inches of distance.
Joel chuckled. "You know, I almost admire how much you hate me."
"I don't hate you," she snapped. "I just don't like wasting time."
Something in her voice made him pause.
He watched her scribble on the page—her handwriting neat, her mind clearly already whirring.
"Hey," he said, more serious now. "Do you paint everything this perfectly? Even your thoughts?"
She looked at him, surprised.
For the first time, his gaze wasn't mocking. Just… curious.
She blinked, then looked away. "Start contributing or stay silent."
Joel smiled. "Yes ma'am."
And for the next ten minutes, they worked—not exactly in harmony, but not in war either. The silence between them wasn't hostile anymore.
It was just... charged.