Some conflicts are silent. But the tension? Deafening.
Lena didn't mean to start a war.
She only meant to talk.
It just happened to be during an off-moment, when Ethan was alone by the vending machines after dropping off some extra booth supplies, hands still dusted with flour from the class baking contest. She spotted him by chance. Or maybe she'd been watching the hallway longer than she cared to admit.
"You look like you lost a fight with a croissant," she said.
Ethan looked up, blinking. "It was supposed to be a bear claw."
"Did the bear win?"
He laughed.
Just once.
It made something stupid twist in Lena's chest.
She crossed her arms. "So. You and the Ice Queen."
Ethan's face didn't change, but something in his posture did. A small shift. Like a brace.
"It's not really what everyone thinks," he said.
"That you're dating?"
"That I know what I'm doing."
Lena raised an eyebrow. "You always used to know."
He didn't reply. Just waited.
So she continued, quieter now.
"Look, I'm not trying to dig into your life. But she's… intense. And you've been different. Not worse. Just—less like the guy who used to debate me for fun even when no one else was watching."
"I'm still that guy," Ethan said.
Lena's voice softened. "Then why does it feel like you're reading from her script?"
For a second, Ethan looked like he might answer.
But he didn't have the chance.
"Is there a problem?"
Isabella's voice slid between them like glass. Smooth. Cold. Perfectly poised.
She stood there, not two steps away. Not smiling. Not frowning. Just… present.
Too present.
Lena didn't flinch. "Just talking."
"With my fiancé?"
It was the first time she'd said the word in public with emphasis. It wasn't loud. But it was sharp enough to draw attention from a few students nearby.
Ethan opened his mouth. "Isabella—"
"I'm not upset," she said smoothly. "It's important for all his friends to express their concerns."
Lena's jaw tightened. "That's not what I was doing."
"Of course not. That would be presumptuous." Isabella's eyes didn't move. "We all want what's best for Ethan."
There it was again—that perfect weaponization of calm.
Lena narrowed her eyes. "He's still allowed to make his own choices."
"Absolutely. I just help him manage the consequences."
Ethan stepped between them, voice low. "Can we not do this here?"
"I'm not doing anything," Isabella said.
She turned toward Lena with the smallest tilt of her head. "Unless you are?"
Lena didn't respond.
But she didn't back down either.
She walked away first.
Not defeated. Just… rattled.
Ethan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Isabella slipped her hand into his, soft and sweet.
She smiled up at him like nothing had happened.
"I brought you water. You're dehydrated again."
He took it. Quietly.
And for a moment, he wondered who really won that conversation.
Some people fight with their fists. Others with silence. And some? With a smile that never quite reaches their eyes.