Morning.
I wake up feeling like a zombie who fought a calculator and lost. My hair? Disaster. My uniform? Wrinkled. My soul? Nonexistent.
"Breakfast!" Aries yells from downstairs.
"I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR LIFE!" I yell back, shoving random notes into my bag like maybe osmosis will make me smarter.
By the time I stumble into Section E's classroom, it looks like a battlefield.
Felix has his phone propped up, whispering into it like a news anchor. "Breaking news: Section E students facing their deadliest enemy yet—math."
Ci-n is on his desk, dramatically holding a pencil to his chest. "If I die, tell my mom I fought bravely."
"Ci-n, sit down!" Sir Alvin barks from the front.
"LET ME HAVE MY LAST WORDS!"
The whole class erupts. Papers flying, rulers clashing like swords, someone actually praying in the corner.
And me? I drag myself to my seat, flop onto the desk, and groan into my arms. "This is it. Goodbye world."
Then, of course, he slides into the seat beside me.
"Morning, Jay."
I don't even have the strength to lift my head. "Don't. Talk. To me."
He chuckles. Chuckles. Like this is amusing. "Rough night?"
"I will personally fight you," I mumble into my sleeve.
Keifer leans back, arms crossed, watching me with that calm, irritatingly steady gaze. "Relax. You'll pass."
I snap my head up, glaring. "RELAX? Do I look relaxed? My brain died at 2 a.m.!"
"Then good thing I'm here."
…Excuse me?? GOOD THING HE'S HERE? What is that supposed to mean??
Before I can explode, Felix swoops in, camera up. "Section E exclusive: Jay Jay and Keifer, pre-exam lovers' quarrel!"
I slam my hand on the desk. "FELIX PUT THAT AWAY OR I'LL SHOVE IT INTO YOUR FACE."
Sir Alvin claps his hands, deadly serious. "QUIET. Everyone sit down. Exam starts in five."
Instant silence. The kind of silence that feels like judgment day.
I gulp, clutching my pencil like a weapon. Ci-n leans over from two rows back and whispers, "If you don't make it, I'll avenge you."
"Thanks," I whisper back.
"By passing the exam in your honor."
"CI-N—"
"SHHH!" Sir Alvin glares.
My heart is pounding. My hands are clammy. The exam paper lands on my desk.
I stare at the first question. My brain goes: 404 ERROR. NOT FOUND.
Oh no. Ohhh no.
I sneak a glance sideways. Keifer's already writing, calm as if this is child's play. Of course. Mr. Perfect. He notices me looking and smirks—actually smirks—before mouthing: You got this.
OH MY GOD. STOP. My cheeks actually warm up mid-exam. This is illegal.
First question: Simplify 5x + 3x.
Easy. Even a zombie like me can manage that. I scribble: 8x. Boom. Genius.
Second question: Solve for x: 2x – 7 = 9.
Okay. Add 7. That's 16. Divide by 2. X = 8. Easy again.
Confidence rising. Maybe I won't fail! Maybe I'll actually survive—
Next page.
The train leaves Station A at 10:15 traveling 60 km/h and another leaves Station B at 10:45 traveling 80 km/h. At what time will they meet?
...WHO CARES. LET THE TRAINS CRASH.
My pencil wobbles. Panic sets in. "Ci-n," I whisper. "What's the answer to number 6?"
From three rows away he whispers back, "Ask you boyfriend"
SHUT UP YOU IDIOT! I thought you would help meeee!
I slam my forehead into the desk.
Halfway through, my brain is fried. Numbers are swimming. Every fraction looks like it's mocking me.
And then, mid-equation, I feel it. That stare.
I risk a glance up.
Yep. Keifer. Two rows over, already finished with his test, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. Watching me.
OH MY GOD.
I hunch over my paper like a spy guarding nuclear codes. "Stop looking at me!" I whisper-shout across the room.
Sir Alvin clears his throat. "Miss Mariano?"
"NOTHING!" I squeak, nearly falling out of my chair.
The class snickers. Keifer smirks.
I am deceased.
By the time the final bell rings, I've written so many question marks on the paper it looks like riddler graffiti. I stagger out of the room like a war survivor.
Ci-n meets me at the door. "So…?"
"Ci-n, if you say a word one more time I'm throwing you into the nearest train word problem."
Felix pops up with his camera. "Jay Jay, describe your exam experience in one word."
"Trauma."
He nods, satisfied.
Outside, I finally breathe. Freedom. No more fractions, no more trains, no more—
"Jay."
I freeze.
Of course. Keifer.
Standing there by the gate, hands in his pockets, looking way too calm for a person who just took a math exam.
I clutch my bag like a shield. "If you're here to gloat, don't. I already know I failed question 12."
He tilts his head, faint smirk tugging his lips. "I wasn't going to say that."
"Then what?"
He leans closer, voice dropping. "I told you. Lucky for you, I'm not going anywhere."
My brain: blue screen of death.
…
OH MY GOD. CHEEKS, STOP. RED IS NOT YOUR COLOR.
Of course Ci-n chooses this exact second to yell across the courtyard. "YAAAY, JAY JAY'S BLUSHINGGG!"
Half of Section E joins in, and I actually consider digging my grave behind the school garden.
"TRAITORS!" I yell at them, but my voice cracks like a dying bird.
Keifer just smirks wider, because of course he does.
We end up walking out together. Not because I want to, but because somehow he keeps pace with me like a shadow I can't get rid of.
"Why do you keep saying things like that?" I hiss under my breath.
He doesn't look at me, just keeps his hands in his pockets, eyes forward. "Because it's true."
"TRUE?! You're insane. You're—" I choke on my own words, waving my arms like I'm swatting invisible flies. "You can't just drop lines like that out of nowhere!"
He chuckles softly. "You're proving my point."
"WHAT POINT?!"
"That you care."
…Excuse me???
I open my mouth to argue but—footsteps.Behind us.
My skin prickles. It's that same heavy feeling. Following. Watching.
I stiffen instantly. Keifer notices. His whole body goes sharp, smirk fading into something dangerous.
"Jay," he says low, steady. "Stay close."
Before I can argue, his hand brushes against mine—then he takes it. Firm. Certain.
OH. MY. GOD. HAND HOLDING. IN PUBLIC. WITH SECTION E SOMEWHERE NEARBY.
My heart is doing gymnastics, but I can't even yell because I do feel safer like this.
We turn the corner—And the footsteps are gone.
Empty street. Just cars, just people. Normal life.
But Keifer doesn't let go. Not immediately. He just keeps walking, jaw tight, eyes scanning.
Finally, I whisper, "You can let go now…"
He glances down. Calm. "Do you want me to?"
…HELLO? SIR?? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH WORDS?!
I stammer, "Y-yes! Obviously! I—uh—people will think stuff!"
He smirks faintly, but there's something softer in his eyes. Then he lets go, slow, deliberate.
The loss of warmth makes my chest ache. Traitor heart.
We stop by the park bench. I collapse onto it, legs jelly. "I hate this."
"Hate what?" he asks, sitting beside me.
"This. Being scared. Feeling like I'm in the dark about everything. Like I'm supposed to just… act fine when I'm not." My voice cracks.
He's quiet for a moment. Then—"You don't have to act fine with me."
I look at him.He's not smirking now. Not