The classroom hummed with the slow, suffocating rhythm of a Tuesday lecture.
Something about economic policy.
Or supply chains.
Or something equally distant from relevance.
Raxian stared at the board.
He heard the teacher's voice.
He just couldn't hold onto it.
Words slid past him like static.
His phone vibrated faintly against his thigh.
He glanced down discreetly.
EGO icon.
He shouldn't.
He did.
His avatar stood in the private chamber, arms crossed, looking up at him.
Then—
The avatar exaggeratedly slumped against the balcony railing.
Head tilted back dramatically.
A silent emote.
Bored.
Raxian's mouth twitched slightly.
Across the aisle, Tess's phone flickered at the same time.
Her avatar appeared briefly in her own chamber interface.
She yawned. Loudly.
The sound was subtle—
But not subtle enough.
The teacher paused mid-sentence.
"Tess."
She looked up immediately, calm.
"Yes?"
"Phones."
She glanced sideways.
Very deliberately.
At Marcus.
Marcus leaned back in his chair, sneering slightly.
Jake usually would have laughed.
Would have whispered something dramatic.
Would have made it worse.
Today—
He didn't.
He was quiet..too quiet.
His gaze drifted lazily toward the front of the room.
Then sideways.
Toward Raxian.
Then further.
Toward Sable.
She sat two rows behind.
Back straight.
Green tie loosened slightly.
Pen moving steadily across paper.
Or at least pretending to.
Jake's jaw tightened slightly.
Rax had gone to the rooftop yesterday.
He knew it.
He'd seen the shift.
He wasn't the only one paying attention.
From the back row near the window—
Fayne observed.
Blue eyes calm.
Unblinking.
Notebook open.
Pen moving.
But not in sync with the board.
Her notes weren't bullet points..they weren't equations.
They were fragments.
Raxian — distracted lately.
Transfer student — rooftop lunches.
Jake — agitation masked as humor.
Pattern shift.
Mira, seated in front of her, twisted slightly in her seat.
"You're not taking notes," she whispered.
Fayne didn't look up.
"I am."
"You're writing names."
Fayne ignored her.
Leah, identical in face but softer in expression, glanced back apologetically.
"Sorry," she mouthed toward the teacher.
"Quiet, please," the teacher warned, irritation thinly veiled.
Mira faced forward again.
Fayne's pen continued moving.
She glanced toward the front.
Toward Raxian.
He was staring ahead.
But not at the board.
His gaze wandered over his shoulder.
Toward Sable.
Not obviously.
But consistently.
She wrote another line.
Heavier posture improving.
Quiet influence? Unknown.
Jake unstable.
Monitor further.
She underlined that.
Outside, wind pressed faintly against the classroom windows.
Inside, the teacher resumed droning.
Raxian leaned back slightly.
His avatar, still open on his screen, had straightened.
Watching him.
Measuring.
Across the room—
Sable's gaze flicked once.
Briefly.
Not at the teacher.
At him.
Then back to her notebook.
Like nothing had happened.
Like everything had.
And Fayne noticed that too.
Her pen paused.
Then moved again.
Observation:
Transfer aware.