It was Wednesday, and the sky was clear. The sun warmed the school courtyard, and a soft breeze played with Elena's hair as she stood near the lunch tables, sipping on a carton of juice. She had started to enjoy these short breaks between classes. People still stared at her sometimes, but they didn't whisper as much anymore. Some had even started nodding when she walked by.
Bella was off helping with a class project, so Elena leaned against the wall alone, her eyes drifting across the courtyard.
That was when he appeared.
"Hey," said a voice to her left.
She turned to see a boy with sandy blond hair and bright eyes. He wore the Westbridge varsity jacket, but unlike the other players who walked around like they owned the place, he had a calm, friendly smile.
"You're Elena, right?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes."
"I'm Marco. I sit two rows behind you in Chem." He grinned. "Though you probably never noticed."
"I might've," she replied, smiling politely.
He tilted his head, still smiling. "So… what's someone like you doing alone? Everyone's curious about you, you know."
"Curious?"
"You're like the mystery of the school," Marco said. "Rich girl from St. Claire. Crazy talented. And suddenly you show up here? We don't get that kind of story around here often."
Elena chuckled softly. "It's really not that exciting."
"I don't know. You've got people talking," Marco said, leaning a little closer. "I even heard you made Liam Reyes smile. That's practically a miracle."
Elena raised an eyebrow. "That's a rumor."
"Still. Pretty impressive. He doesn't even smile when he scores a goal." Marco stepped aside as two boys passed behind them. "So… want to sit together for lunch sometime?"
Before she could answer, a shadow fell over them.
Liam.
He walked up slowly, eyes locked on Marco like he was a bad smell. His hands were in his pockets, but his jaw was tense. "Marco."
"Liam," Marco said, still smiling, though his voice had shifted. "We were just talking."
"I can see that."
Elena looked between the two boys. The air had changed. What was light and easy a second ago now felt heavier, tighter.
Marco gave her a quick glance. "Anyway, nice talking to you, Elena. Let me know about lunch." With that, he turned and walked off.
Liam didn't move. He just stood there, watching Marco leave.
"You didn't have to do that," Elena said once Marco was gone.
"Do what?"
"Scare him off."
"I didn't scare him. He left."
"Because of your face."
"My face looks like this all the time."
She narrowed her eyes. "That's not comforting."
Liam looked at her then. Really looked. His eyes scanned her face like he was trying to read something she hadn't written down. "He's not your type."
"And you know my type?"
He shrugged. "Not him."
Elena crossed her arms. "Well, thanks for the input. Very helpful."
They stood there in silence for a moment. Then she turned and started walking toward the main building. She wasn't angry. Not really. But her heart was beating faster than usual.
Liam walked beside her.
"I don't like him," he said after a while.
"You don't like a lot of people."
"True."
They reached the steps and paused. Students walked past them, laughing and chatting, not noticing the strange tension between the two of them.
"You're jealous," Elena said.
Liam blinked. "What?"
"You're jealous of Marco."
"I'm not."
"You are. Your face does this thing—your jaw clenches, and your eyes go all sharp."
He gave her a flat look. "You're imagining things."
"I'm not." She grinned, enjoying this more than she should. "It's cute."
He gave her a look that was half-annoyed and half-amused. "You're pushing it."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
She took a step closer. "So, if you're not jealous, and you don't care, then why do you always show up when someone talks to me?"
He looked away, jaw tight again.
"That's what I thought," Elena said, brushing past him. But before she could take another step, his hand gently caught her wrist.
She turned back.
"I don't like him," Liam said again, quieter this time. "But not because I think he's annoying or fake."
"Then why?"
He didn't answer right away. His thumb brushed over her wrist without meaning to, like he wasn't even aware he was doing it. Then he let go.
"Just be careful," he muttered.
She smiled softly. "That's not jealousy talking?"
"No," he said, but his voice had a crack in it.
She leaned in, close enough that only he could hear. "Don't worry. I like trouble. Just the right kind."
He gave her a half-smile.
A real one.
Not the forced kind he gave teachers or the cold smirk he threw at other boys on the field. This one was soft. A little shy.
It made her stomach flip.
They walked inside together, not saying much after that. But when they reached the hallway where their classes split, Liam paused.
"Elena."
She turned.
"You can eat lunch with whoever you want," he said. "I won't stop you."
"But?"
"No but. Just… if you ever feel like sitting with me instead, I won't mind."
She smiled. "I'll think about it."
Then she turned and walked away, feeling his eyes on her the whole time.