Chapter 6: Shadows and Sparks
The next few days passed in a blur of whispers and sidelong glances. Everywhere Anna went, she felt eyes on her. In the cafeteria, in the hallways, even in the library — there was always someone watching, whispering, judging.
She told herself it didn't matter. She told herself she was used to it.
But this time, it did matter — because the rumors weren't just about her anymore. They were about them.
"Did you hear?" one voice would say. "She's totally using him for attention."
"No," another replied, "he's the one playing her. You know how Jordan is."
It was the same story told a hundred ways, twisting truth until it became poison. Anna pretended to ignore it, but every word cut a little deeper.
That Thursday afternoon, she met Jordan in the library again. He had claimed the farthest table, where the sunlight filtered through the blinds in thin, golden lines.
"Hey," he greeted her, eyes lifting from his notebook. "You made it."
"Of course," she said, setting her bag down. "You didn't think I'd back out, did you?"
He smirked. "Wouldn't blame you. Half the school's acting like we're starting a rebellion."
Anna rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. "I've dealt with worse than gossip."
Jordan leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Yeah," he said softly. "I can tell."
The words hung between them, unexpected and heavy. Anna busied herself pulling out her notes. The truth was, she didn't know how to handle the way he looked at her — like she was more than just the quiet girl who kept to herself, more than the target of jokes and whispers.
"So," she said, forcing her voice steady, "we're covering the industrial impact on workers, right?"
He nodded, flipping open his notebook. "Yeah. I found some stuff about the factory reforms. Crazy how rough people had it back then."
"Child labor, long hours, no rights," Anna added. "Most people didn't even make it past thirty."
Jordan glanced at her. "Guess humanity's always been kind of messed up."
"Not always," Anna said quietly. "There's still good — if you look for it."
He tilted his head, watching her for a long moment before nodding. "Maybe you're right."
For the next hour, they worked in silence, the air between them warm with quiet understanding. Anna noticed the way his handwriting slanted across the page, how he bit the end of his pen when he was thinking. There was something focused and almost gentle about him — a far cry from the reckless troublemaker everyone talked about.
When they finally finished compiling their notes, Jordan leaned back and stretched. "You're serious about your work," he said.
"I like doing things right," Anna replied.
He grinned. "Yeah, I'm starting to see that."
Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, neither of them looked away. There was no noise, no whispers, just the soft hum of the old library clock ticking above them.
Then Jordan broke the silence. "You know what your problem is, Anna?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I have a problem?"
"You care too much about what everyone thinks."
She laughed — quietly, but genuinely. "Says the guy the whole school worships."
"Worships?" he scoffed. "They don't even know me. They just see what they want to."
There was something in his voice — frustration, maybe even pain. Anna saw past his smirk for the first time. He wasn't just the "bad boy" everyone made him out to be. He was someone who carried his own scars, hidden behind confidence and rebellion.
Before she could respond, the library door creaked open. Two boys from Jordan's usual crowd walked in, snickering when they saw him sitting beside her.
"Yo, Blake," one of them called. "Didn't know you were tutoring now."
Jordan's jaw tightened. "Working on an assignment, Travis. Chill."
The other boy laughed. "Sure, man. Whatever you say. Just don't let the preacher girl convert you."
Anna froze. The words hit harder than she expected, even though she'd heard worse. Jordan's chair scraped against the floor as he stood.
"Say that again," he said quietly.
Travis held up his hands. "Relax, dude. Just joking."
"Get out."
Something in his tone must have convinced them, because they left without another word. The door closed, leaving an uneasy silence in their wake.
Anna looked up at him. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yeah, I did." His eyes were still hard. "People think they can say whatever they want to you. I hate that."
She swallowed. "It doesn't bother me anymore."
"Don't lie," he said, softer this time. "It does. I can see it."
Anna looked down at her notebook, unsure what to say. No one had ever called her out like that before — not cruelly, but honestly.
"Why do you care?" she finally asked.
Jordan hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because you're not like everyone else. You don't try to impress anyone. You don't fake things. It's... real."
Her heart beat faster. She wanted to respond, but the words tangled on her tongue.
Jordan leaned on the table, closer now. "Don't let them change you, okay? Not for me, not for anyone."
She nodded slowly, caught in his gaze. "I won't."
He smiled — a small, genuine one this time. "Good."
They packed their books in silence after that, but it wasn't the same silence as before. It was softer, charged with something unspoken.
As they walked out of the library together, the late-afternoon light slanted through the windows, casting long shadows down the hallway. Anna glanced at him and thought of something she'd read once — that sometimes light shines brightest where the darkness tries hardest to stay.
And maybe, just maybe, that was what Jordan Blake had become — the unexpected light in her hallway.