The "Ice King" had been dethroned, and the entire middle school was processing the data.
Kian Vance, the kid who was more of a cold, abstract concept than an actual person, had been publicly silenced by a girl. And not just any girl—a new girl. A ghost just like him.
This new reality was the only topic of conversation on the bus, in the halls, and now, in the cafeteria. Kian, as always, sat in his corner booth, his back to the wall, pretending to read Medea. He was acutely aware of the whispers, the stares, and the fact that he was, for the first time, the subject of the noise, not just an observer of it.
"I'm just saying, man, it was epic," Silas was whispering, his voice still loud enough to carry. He was leaning so far over the table his chin was almost in his tray of tater tots. "She didn't even raise her voice. She just... dismantled him. With logic. I... I think I'm in love. With both of you."
"Your romantic projections are inefficient, Silas," Ren said, not looking up from his calculus homework. "You are merely observing a 'meeting of the minds.' Two highly analytical, emotionally detached individuals have recognized each other. It is a logical, if rare, social pairing."
"He means they're both super weird, and they're probably going to get married," Silas translated, grinning at Kian. "C'mon, 'Ice King,' what's the play? Are you going to counter-rebuke? Are you planning a new line of attack? You've been staring at page forty-seven for ten minutes. You're not even reading."
"I am processing," Kian said, his voice a low, cold monotone. He hated this. He hated that his one moment of public failure had become entertainment. "The subject is closed."
"Is it?" Silas challenged, his eyes flicking over Kian's shoulder. "Because your 'subject' just walked in."
Kian's entire body tensed. He didn't turn. But he felt the shift in the room. The ambient roar of the cafeteria dipped as Anya Petrova walked in. She moved with that same, infuriating, unhurried grace, her eyes scanning the room, not for friends, but for space.
"She's looking..." Silas narrated, his voice a low, excited play-by-play. "She's not sitting with the girls' team... she's... oh, no way. No. Way. She's... she's coming over here...!"
Kian's jaw tightened. He refused to look. He heard the footsteps stop. He saw the shadow fall over his book.
"Vance," Anya's voice said. It was calm. Amused. "You're in my seat."
His seat? He was in the corner. She had sat opposite him yesterday.
"I am... not... in your seat," Kian said, his eyes still glued to the text. "I... am... in... my... seat. You... are... the... disruption."
"A semantic argument," Anya said. He could hear the smile in her voice. "This entire booth... is... our... space. You're on... the wrong... side. Move over."
Silas gasp-choked on a tater tot. Ren actually looked up from his homework.
Kian finally looked up. She was just... standing there. Waiting. Not asking. Telling.
He couldn't argue. That... would... be... a... scene. Refusing... would be... a... scene.
With a low, furious growl, Kian slid... over... to the... window seat.
Anya Petrova... slid... into the... booth... right next to him. She opened her own book. Absolute silence.
They sat there. Side-by-side. Two dragons on the same pile of gold, pretending... the other... wasn't... there.
Silas... was... vibrating. He mouthed... 'OH MY GOD'... at Ren. Ren just... shook his head... and went... back... to his... math.
This... this... was... their... new... normal.
Kian couldn't read. He couldn't focus. Her presence... was... a... physical... weight. She... was... too close. And... she... smelled... like... apples.
He hated it.
He was... so... consumed... by this... new... proximity... problem... that... he... didn't... notice... the... next... disruption.
"Well, well," a loud, arrogant voice boomed... from... the end... of their... table.
Kian looked up, annoyed.
Jake. The senior... from the... bus. The one... Kian... had... verbally... dismantled. And... he... had... his... friends.
"Look at this," Jake sneered, his eyes not on Kian, but on Anya. "It's... the... new... transfer. All... alone. Wait... no... she's... with... the... middle school... freaks. That's... a... bad look, sweetheart."
Anya slowly... looked up... from her... book. Her green eyes... were... ice. "I don't... believe... I... was... speaking... to you."
"Oooooh," one of his friends laughed. "She's feisty."
Jake smiled. "Feisty. I like that. Look, I get it. You're new. You don't... know... who... to... sit with. Why... don't you... ditch... the... Ice King... and his... bodyguards... and... come... sit... with... us? We... can... talk."
"No," Anya said. She looked back... down... at her... book. "I... am... reading. You... are... interrupting. Please... leave."
She... dismissed him. Just... like... Kian... had.
The blood... drained... from... Jake's... face. His... ego... was... shattered. Again.
"Hey," he said, his voice... losing... its... charm. He reached out... and... slammed... Anya's... book... shut. "I said... I'm... talking... to you."
Silas tensed. Ren stopped writing.
Anya looked... at... his... hand... on her... book. She looked... up... at his... face. "And I... said... no. Take... your... hand... off... my... property."
"Or what?" Jake snarled. "You gonna... get... your... little... boyfriend... here... to... talk me... to death?"
He grabbed... her... arm. "C'mon. Don't... be... like... that."
"Get off of me," Anya said, her voice... still... cold, but now... it... was... shaking.
Kian... had... seen... enough.
He hadn't... moved. He hadn't... spoken.
He was... already... standing.
Silas didn't even... see him... move. One second... he... was... in the... booth. The next... he... was... standing... behind... Jake.
He didn't... yell. He didn't... push.
He just... moved. His hand... shot out... like... a... snake. He didn't... grab... Jake's... shoulder. He grabbed... his... wrist. The one... that... was... holding... Anya's... arm.
He didn't... punch. He applied... pressure. Thumb... on the... nerve... cluster... on the... inside... of the... wrist. Fingers... on the... bone.
Jake let out... a... high-pitched... gasp. His hand... flew open, releasing... Anya... as if... she... were... on fire.
"What the... hell... ow!"
"She... said... 'no'," Kian's voice whispered. It was not... a... shout. It was... a... blade. It... cut... right... through... the... cafeteria... noise.
Jake tried... to... pull... his... arm... away.
Kian just... tightened... his... grip. He wasn't... strong. He was... precise. He added... a... slight... twist.
Jake's knees... buckled. "AGH! Okay, okay! Jeez! I... I... get it!"
Jake's two friends... stepped forward. "Hey, man! Let him... go! It... was... a... joke!"
Kian didn't... even... look... at them. His cold... eyes... were... locked... on... Jake's.
He twisted. Just... a... little... more.
Jake cried out. "Guys, STOP! Don't... move! He's... he's... crazy! Tell them... to... back off!"
Kian waited.
"He said... 'back off', you... idiots!" Jake yelled... at his... friends. "I'm sorry! Okay? I'm... sorry! I... won't... touch her! I'm... leaving!"
Kian looked... at him. He... analyzed... his... expression. Fear. Humiliation. Sincerity. The... threat... was... neutralized.
He let go.
Jake stumbled back, clutching... his... wrist. "You're... psycho, Vance. You're... a... psycho."
"You... are... disrupting... my... lunch," Kian said, his voice flat. "Go away."
Jake... his face... purple... with... rage... and... shame... fled. His friends... scrambled... after him.
The cafeteria... was... dead... silent. Everyone... had... seen it.
Kian ignored them. He turned... to Anya. She was... staring... at him. Her face... was... pale. Her book... was... on the... floor.
He bent down. He picked it up. He handed it... to her.
"He... was... a... disruption," Kian said.
He slid back... into... the... booth. Next... to her. He picked up... his... own... book. He opened... it... to... page forty-seven.
He started... reading.
As if... nothing... had... happened.
Anya looked... at him. At this... impossible... boy. This... violent... philosopher. This... cold... protector.
She slowly... slid... back... into the... booth.
She didn't... say... 'thank you'. She... knew... he... would... hate that.
She just... opened... her... book.
And for... the... first time... Kian... felt... a... different... kind... of... quiet. It... wasn'T... his... aloneness.
It... was... a... shared... silence.
Silas leaned over... to Ren.
"...Okay," Silas whispered, his voice... shaking. "So... definitely... Batman."