Tuesday morning, the courtyard buzzed with the usual chaos—backpacks slung half open, sneakers squeaking against concrete, clusters of students trading howork answers they probably should’ve finished the night before.
I hadn’t even made it to the steps when I spotted Marina weaving through the crowd, iced coffee in one hand, a look on her face that scread I need to talk.
"Hey," she called, falling in step beside . "So... Trent asked out."
I blinked. "And?"
Her nose wrinkled instantly, like I’d just asked if she’d drink expired milk. "And—I don’t see him like that." She tugged on her sweater sleeve, frowning. "Trent’s... fun. He’s nice. But dating him? No. Not in a million years."
I adjusted the strap of my bag. "So you told him no?"
"Not yet." She blew out a sigh, straw poking against her lip as she fiddled with the coffee. "Didn’t know how without making it weird. He’s my friend, Kai. I don’t wanna crush him."
"Then be honest," I said simply.
Her eyes flicked to , sharp and amused. "Since when did you get so straightforward?"
I almost laughed. Since yesterday apparently.
But before I could say it, Marina leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Speaking of... I heard sothing yesterday."
I tensed. "What’d you hear?"
She tilted her head, eyes glittering with curiosity. "That you—" she wiggled her fingers dramatically "—raised your voice. With Avery and Celestia. People said you actually snapped. Like, lost it. Full-on volcano."
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "It wasn’t a volcano. And I didn’t ’yell.’"
Her brows shot up. "Okay, then what was it?"
"A... firm conversation."
Marina snorted into her coffee. "Wow. Such a scary phrase."
"Don’t mock it." I shifted my bag again, trying not to et her too-knowing stare. "They wouldn’t stop going at it. So I told them to cut it out."
That got her. Marina slowed her steps, staring at like I’d just announced I was dropping out to beco a magician. "Wait. You told them? Both of them? And they actually listened?"
I shrugged, pretending it wasn’t a big deal, even though the mory still shocked too. "Yeah. Shocking isn’t it?"
A low whistle slipped out of her. "Didn’t think you had it in you."
"Neither did I."
For a mont, she just looked at , a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth like she was proud, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Then she shook her head. "Still. They’re never going to be friends, you know."
I glanced at her sideways. "Everyone said the sa thing about you and Celestia."
Her smile faltered. "That was different."
"Was it?" I asked gently.
She hesitated, sipping her coffee to buy ti. "...Okay, fine. Maybe not that different. But she still hates Avery. Like, deeply."
"Then Avery’s got work to do. If she actually wants to be around, she’ll figure it out. But it’s not on ."
Marina gave a little hum, studying with that childhood-friend look that always made feel like she was checking off boxes in her head. "You’ve changed."
"Or maybe I’m just finally catching up."
She smirked, bumping my shoulder lightly. "Took you long enough."
Before I could co up with a coback, a familiar hush fell over the hallway, like the air itself was making space.
And there she was.
Celestia strolled in, sunlight catching in her hair, expression perfectly unreadable as her gaze swept the crowd—until it landed squarely on .
Marina’s smirk widened. "Great. Now I’m invisible again."
I swallowed hard, because even after months of dating her, I still got goosebumps whenever she walked in like that—like the whole room bent around her without her even trying.
Celestia’s gaze locked on , sharp and sure, and suddenly the rest of the hallway felt like background noise.
---
Celestia glided up like she owned the hallway—and honestly, she did. My chest did that stupid tight thing it always did when her eyes found first, like she’d just chosen all over again. She leaned in, brushed her lips against mine, and for half a second the world went quiet. Then she turned to Marina with a smile.
"Morning Marina."
Marina grinned back, pulling her into a hug that looked way too affectionate for two people who used to be sworn enemies.
I muttered, half under my breath but loud enough, "From the way you’re hugging her, no one would believe Val tried plotting your murder a few months ago."
Celestia pulled back from the hug just enough to smirk at . "Don’t be dramatic. I never plotted."
Marina arched a brow. "Yeah, she... just stared at like I was on a hit list."
"Semantics," Celestia said sweetly, linking her arm through mine as if she hadn’t just admitted it.
I shook my head, but a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "See, this is why I don’t trust either of you."
They laughed, and sohow, the tension I carried from yesterday loosened.
---
By the ti we sat down in class, Celestia was fiddling with my pen, Marina sprawled half-sideways in her chair.
"So," Marina started casually, "how’d you take it?"
Celestia blinked. "Take what?"
Marina tilted her head toward . "Your boyfriend, yelling at you."
I groaned instantly. "I didn’t yell."
Celestia’s eyes sparkled like Christmas lights. "You kind of did."
"Thank you!" Marina cut in, smirking at . "See? Even she admits it."
I shot her a flat look. "Not helping."
Celestia twirled the pen between her fingers, clearly enjoying my misery. "To answer your question, Marina... honestly? I liked it."
Marina’s head whipped toward her. "You what?"
She shrugged, smug as ever. "Him standing his ground? That was hot."
Marina slapped the desk, laughing. "Oh my god, you’re serious. You’ve corrupted him into liking conflict."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Why am I the one being roasted for finally acting like a decent human being?"
Celestia leaned her chin into her hand, grinning. "Because it’s cute. You actually looked... confident. Like, manly-confident. And you know , I like that."
Marina snorted. "Manly-confident. Please, don’t gas him up, his head’s already growing."
"Hey—" I tried to cut in, but they were already laughing together, their voices overlapping like they’d rehearsed it.
"Admit it, Kai," Celestia teased, poking my shoulder, "you loved being in charge."
"I did not."
> "Don’t lie."
Marina shook her head, mock sighing. "Unbelievable. My friend Kai, turning into a dictator right in front of us. What’s next, you telling us where to sit?"
Before I could defend myself, the classroom door opened.
Trent walked in with a couple of his football buddies, all that easy swagger like they were in a Nike comrcial. He nodded a quick hey to Marina but didn’t slow down, just made his way to the back row.
I noticed the way Marina’s smile faltered. Subtle. Barely there.
Celestia noticed too. "So?" she said, dragging out the word.
Marina blinked. "So, what?"
"You and Trent." Celestia’s grin turned sly. "That little nod looked loaded."
Marina made a face. "Please. He’s... Trent."
"And?" Celestia blinked sweetly.
"And," Marina huffed, lowering her voice like she was confessing state secrets, "I like him, okay? He’s great. Fun. Loyal. But dating? No. Not happening."
Celestia tilted her head. "Why not?"
"Because..." Marina trailed off, chewing her lip. For once, she didn’t have a smart quip ready. "I just... don’t see it. He’s better as a friend. That’s all."
The way she avoided Celestia’s eyes made it obvious she was hiding sothing.
Celestia leaned in, voice soft but teasing. "You’re lying."
Marina flicked her gaze up, deadpan. "I’m avoiding."
"Sa thing," Celestia said.
Marina groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. "Why did I even ask you for girl advice? You’re impossible."
"Because I’m right," Celestia sing-songed.
I held up my hands. "For the record, I’m staying out of this one."
Both girls turned to at the sa ti.
"Good," Celestia said sweetly.
"Smart choice," Marina added with a smirk.
And despite myself, I laughed—because as much as they bickered, they’d sohow found a rhythm together. And that rhythm, for once, didn’t involve trying to kill each other.
---
Right then, Celestia’s phone buzzed against the desk. She glanced at the screen, her brow arching when she saw the na.
"Lucien," she muttered, already swiping to answer.
The call was over before it even started—barely ten seconds, her responses short and clipped. Then she hung up, sliding her phone into her pocket as she looked at .
"Lucien’s here."
I straightened. "Here as in...?"
"At school," she said simply, like that explained anything. "By the gate."
Marina frowned. "Random much?"
Celestia gave a little shrug, then turned to her. "I’m borrowing my husband for a bit." Her pout found instantly, all soft lips and tilted head. "Co on. Besides, it’s been a while since you saw him."
Reluctant wasn’t even the word. But when she looked at like that, resistance felt like a joke. "Alright," I sighed. "Let’s go."
---
Lucien leaned against his car like it was a photoshoot, all dark jeans, rolled sleeves, and that untouchable calm he carried like a second skin. But his face told a different story—there was tension there, written between his brows, sothing heavier than usual.
"Hey," I greeted, reaching out.
"Hey," he said, gripping my hand in that firm, older-brother way before his eyes slid to Celestia. "Minute with my sister?"
I nodded, stepping back without protest.
They moved a few feet away, voices dropping too low to make out. From where I stood, all I had were pieces—the way his hand gestured sharply once, the way hers stilled, her expression tightening.
I looked away, giving them space, my eyes drifting over the students cutting across the lot. So were laughing, arms looped around shoulders. Others slipped kisses like it was the most natural thing in the world. Background noise to a normal morning.
But when my gaze wandered back, Celestia’s face wasn’t the usual picture of unbothered confidence. No, it was shadowed, lips pressed thin, eyes dimd in a way I almost never saw.
Until she noticed watching.
And just like that, the mask snapped back in place. She smiled—too quickly, too smoothly—and walked back toward as Lucien slid into his car and pulled away.
"You okay?" I asked quietly.
"Of course," she said, that smile still sitting pretty on her mouth. But it didn’t reach her eyes.
I didn’t push, even though I wanted to. I just walked beside her, the silence between us heavier than anything her brother had said.
And I thought to myself, maybe the scariest part of loving Val wasn’t when she was fiery and impossible—maybe it was when she smiled like nothing was wrong, and I knew deep down that sothing was.
---
To be continued...
Reviews
All reviews (0)