CHAPTER TWO
BETWEEN US FOUR
Jay's POV
The paper balls didn't stop.
Neither did the whispering, the pranks, or the mysterious smell in our lockers.
Alys tried to pretend it didn't bother her. I tried to pretend I didn't care. But truthfully? It was exhausting.
"Three days," I mumbled, brushing eraser shavings off my desk. "Three days in this hellhole."
"Hey," Alys whispered beside me. "Day four is gonna be worse."
I glanced to the back again. Keifer was leaning back in his chair, legs stretched under the desk like the classroom was his personal bedroom. When the teacher asked a question, he answered once — perfectly — then went back to ignoring everyone.
He didn't throw anything. Didn't laugh. But his silence was louder than any insult.
Every time he looked at me, it was like he was asking, "Why are you still here?"
And I didn't know if I wanted to punch him or—
Never mind.
I clenched my jaw. "He's so—"
"Arrogant? Annoying? Hot?"
"NO."
Alys laughed under her breath.
I hated how Keifer got under my skin without saying a word. The way he rolled his eyes when I corrected a teacher. The little smirk when someone failed a quiz. The fact that he didn't even bother to bully us — just acted like we weren't worth his time.
It drove me insane.
Alys' POV
Drake Palma was the quietest boy in the room.
And somehow the loudest.
He never spoke. Never participated. Just sat there sketching, hoodie up, headphones in, and gave the whole world the middle finger with his silence.
And yet, he made me want to rip my notebook in half.
He was hot. Fine. I admitted that much.
But when I tried to talk to him yesterday — just a simple "You draw?" — he didn't even look up. Didn't nod. Didn't blink.
Just turned the page and kept sketching.
Rude.
So yeah, the rest of Section E were barking dogs, but Drake was a locked vault. And for some stupid reason, I wanted to kick it open.
PE CLASS – Later That Day
Jay and I stood on the sidelines as the coach barked out orders.
"Teams of five! Mixed! Don't care who you're with, just MOVE!"
Of course no one picked us.
So we ended up in a weird leftover group with a few boys who looked like they wanted to commit crimes just for fun. A dodgeball match was forming. Too fast. Too aggressive.
Jay looked at me. "This feels like a setup."
"Because it is," I said.
And then — it happened.
A blur of red. A shout. A whistle that never got blown.
Jay turned her head at the wrong moment, and the dodgeball hit her square in the face.
CRACK.
Time froze.
She stumbled back, hand flying to her nose.
Blood. So much of it.
"JAY!" I dropped everything and ran to her.
She sat on the floor, dazed. The guy who threw the ball was laughing.
"Oh my God—"
"Are you—" I reached her, hands shaking. "Are you okay?!"
She nodded slowly. "I think—yeah, just—"
"No. You're not. Your nose—Jay, it's broken."
I looked up, eyes blazing.
The boys were laughing.
Not all of them. But most.
And none of them helped her.
Not even Keifer.
Not even Drake.
The coach finally ran over. Jay was sent to the clinic.
I was sent back to class.
And the fire in my chest? It never left.
Jay's POV
Broken nose. Swollen face. No apologies.
It wasn't just a prank anymore. It was violence. And the silence from Section E?
Worse than the hit.
Not even one sorry. Not one "are you okay?"
It made something inside me snap.
I wasn't going to cry in that clinic. I wasn't going to break.
But I was going to burn.
And maybe Alys could see it on my face when I returned the next day with a bandaged nose and bloodshot eyes — because she didn't say a word.
We just walked in together. Head high.
And for once?
Section E went silent.
No paper balls.
No jokes.
No snickering.
They stared.
A few avoided eye contact.
And Keifer?
He didn't smirk.
He looked at me like he'd seen something new. Something that made him stop underestimating me.
Drake kept sketching.
But his pencil had stopped moving.
Alys' POV
Something shifted.
Overnight.
Suddenly, the class wasn't laughing anymore.
No more traps. No more "accidents."
They left Jay alone.
They left us alone.
Why?
We didn't know.
But I caught one of the boys whispering something to another.
"She didn't cry."
"She's tougher than we thought."
"They lasted the worst of it."
Whatever code Section E lived by, Jay's broken nose passed some kind of twisted test.
They still didn't talk to us.
But they stopped trying to kick us out.
And I had a feeling it wasn't out of respect.
It was because they were curious now.
Because for the first time...
They realized we weren't here to survive Section E.
We were here to own it.
End of Chapter Two