Chapter: The Weight of Us
Jay's POV
I thought after Section E's dramatics and Percy's Broadway-level performance at lunch, the day couldn't get worse.
I was wrong.
Because the minute classes ended, Percy refused to leave my side. He practically glued himself to me, skipping at my pace, humming under his breath like an annoying soundtrack.
Keifer walked on my other side, silent. Too silent.
"Why are you so quiet?" I whispered as Percy bent down to retie his shoelaces.
His eyes flicked to me, soft for a second before they hardened again. "Because your brother's testing my patience."
"He's not my brother," I said quickly. "He's my—"
"Percy!" someone yelled down the hall. It was Felix, waving his phone in the air. "You'll never guess—"
"Later!" Percy snapped before draping an arm over my shoulders. "Now, baby sis, tell me… why Watson? I mean, you could've picked someone less… obsessed."
Keifer stopped walking. His voice was low, dangerous.
"Try saying that again."
I elbowed him. "Keif—"
"No, seriously," Percy pressed, his smirk widening. "He's so gone for you it's embarrassing. I bet he's memorized how many strands of hair you have."
I froze. Because Percy wasn't entirely wrong. Keifer was like that. Obsessed. Possessive. And the way he was glaring at Percy right now only proved it.
"Percy, enough." My voice was sharper than intended. "He's my boyfriend. You're not scaring him away, so stop trying."
Percy blinked at me. And for once, he shut up.
When he finally waved goodbye and disappeared down the street with Felix, I exhaled the breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
Silence. Just me and Keifer.
Until he muttered, "You didn't have to defend me."
I turned. "What?"
He kept his gaze forward, hands in his pockets, jaw tight. "You don't have to defend me from people. If they think I'm obsessed, they're right. I am."
My chest tightened.
"Keifer—"
His eyes finally found mine, raw and unguarded. "Jay, you don't get it. I tried hating you. I tried ignoring you. I tried letting you go. None of it worked. And now that I have you—" His voice cracked, just slightly. "I don't know if I'll survive losing you again."
I stopped walking. My throat burned.
For a long moment, neither of us said anything. Then, without thinking, I reached for his hand. Laced my fingers with his. Held on like it was the only thing keeping me standing.
"You won't," I whispered.
And maybe that was the first time I truly believed it myself.