Maya balanced two food trays in her hands as she weaved through the cafeteria crowd.
She finally reached the spot across from where Jenny sat, still hunched over her sketchbook like the rest of the world didn't exist.
"Hey, Michelangelo," Maya said, setting the trays down and nudging Jenny's shoulder.
"You must've been a world-class artist in your past life, 'cause you didn't even blink while a whole telenovela unfolded right in front of you."
Jenny blinked and looked up, slightly confused. "What telenovela?"
Maya tilted her head subtly toward a nearby table. "Jeremy, Ashley, and the tall glass of mystery that just transferred in.
Front row chaos. You missed some serious nonverbal fireworks."
Jenny glanced up, following the direction of Maya's nod.
Jeremy sat in his usual bored slouch, eating like nothing mattered.
Ashley was beside him, practically velcroed to his side, laughing too loud at something he hadn't said.
And Max—he looked like he was just there for the show, eyes flicking between the two.
Jenny's face didn't change much, but her brows twitched slightly as her gaze lingered on Ashley for a second too long.
"She's always this dramatic? Or is today special?"
Maya smirked. "She was practically feeding him grapes a minute ago. You really didn't see it?"
Jenny stabbed at her food. "I was busy doing something more productive.
Watching circus acts isn't really my thing."
"Oof." Maya held back a laugh. "Okay, noted. Sketchbook first, drama second."
They ate in silence for a moment, though Maya kept sneaking glances at Jenny's expression.
There was nothing obvious, but the edge in Jenny's voice wasn't hard to catch.
They finished their food and stood. As they walked out of the cafeteria, Jeremy's eyes flicked toward them—just for a second.
But Max saw it. So did Ashley.
Ashley's smile faltered.
Max smirked, filing the moment away like a mental sticky note.
As Jenny and Maya left the cafeteria, the buzz of lunchtime chatter faded behind them, replaced by the low drone of students moving through hallways and slamming lockers.
The rest of the school day dragged along, class after class feeling longer than the last.
Jenny kept her head low, trying to focus, but her thoughts kept circling back—back to the cafeteria, to Maya's teasing, to Ashley's smug expression, and to that one quick glance she probably shouldn't have taken.
By the time the final bell rang, she felt drained, both from the day and from whatever weird tension was brewing in the background.
Jenny moved a little slower than the rest, stuffing her books into her bag with absentminded fingers.
Maya had already stepped out with a casual wave, probably off to touch up or get water.
She stepped out of the classroom,Jenny didn't rush.weaving through the crowd with her head slightly down. The voices, the laughter, the noise—it all blurred together.
Maya had gone the other way, swallowed by a group of classmates, while Jenny peeled off toward the bathroom.
Her thoughts swirled — not clear, not focused. Just that dull hum of something odd that lingered since lunch.
She pushed open the restroom door and slipped inside.
The faint sound of dripping water echoed against the tiled walls. She moved to the sink, setting her sketchbook on the edge as she ran her fingers under the tap. The cold water was grounding.
She stood there, letting her thoughts rinse out with the stream, when a voice sliced through the stillness.
"You think you're cute or something?"
Jenny froze.
She glanced up at the mirror and widened her eyes slightly — Ashley was standing a few steps behind, arms crossed, expression twisted into something smug and cold.
"I mean," Ashley continued, stepping closer, "I don't know what you're trying to pull with those sketchbook stunts, acting all mysterious and invisible like you're not dying for attention."
Jenny turned slowly, cautious but calm. "I'm not trying anything."
Ashley scoffed, inching forward again.
"You really think I don't see you watching him?
Getting all soft whenever Jeremy's around? Newsflash: just because you're quiet doesn't mean you're innocent."
Jenny's brows pulled together, nerves tightening in her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, cut the act," Ashley snapped, her voice rising slightly. "You've been orbiting him like some lost puppy.
Stay in your lane, Jenny. You're not his type. You never will be."
Jenny took a half-step back. Her fingers curled around the edge of the sink — she wasn't sure if Ashley was just spitting venom or about to lunge.
Then—
The door creaked open.
Maya's voice rang out, casual but firm: "Wow. Did someone order a jealousy monologue, or is this a new school play?"
Ashley turned abruptly.
Maya strolled in with one brow raised, her eyes flicking between them. "Didn't know bathrooms were audition spaces now."
Ashley's jaw clenched. "This doesn't concern you."
"Everything concerns me when it smells this bitter," Maya replied, brushing past her toward Jenny's side.
"You done here?, or should I call in a mop for all the insecurity leaking out?"
Ashley's nostrils flared, but she didn't respond.
Instead, she gave Jenny one last sharp look and stormed out, shoulder bumping Maya's as she left.
Silence returned.
Maya rolled her eyes and turned to Jenny. "You okay?"
Jenny nodded faintly, still processing.
"Good," Maya said, grabbing a paper towel. "Because that girl's drama doesn't even deserve a scene."
Later that day - Jeremy's home
The Blackwood house was quiet, save for the faint hum of music from Max's phone and the low drone of passing cars outside.
Jeremy was sprawled on the floor, back against the edge of his bed, flipping through a graphic novel.
Max sat sideways on a desk chair, spinning slightly as he scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to it.
"You always this exciting after school?" Max drawled lazily.
Jeremy didn't look up. "If you don't like it, go back to L.A."
"Tempting. But then I'd miss all this riveting silence."
Jeremy flicked a corner of the page, barely smirking. "Not every moment needs a camera crew and a soundtrack."
Max dropped his phone on the desk with a thud and turned toward him, elbows on knees, grin forming.
"So. That girl from lunch."
Jeremy paused mid-page.
Max caught it. "The one with the sketchbook. Jenny, right?"
Jeremy didn't flinch. "What about her?"
"You were staring."
Jeremy looked up at him flatly. "No, I wasn't."
Max raised a brow. "You were. Don't make me start taking notes."
"Maybe you were staring. Don't project your taste on me."
"Oh, I get it now." Max leaned back, nodding like he'd uncovered a plot twist.
"It's one of those things.
The 'I'll insult her so no one knows I'm in love' kind of deals."
Jeremy snorted. "You're delusional. She's not even—" He made a vague, dismissive gesture.
"She's just some quiet girl who draws cartoons and stares at the floor all day."
Max tilted his head, amused. "Mm-hmm."
Jeremy tossed the graphic novel aside. "Look, I don't care about her, okay? She's not my type, I don't think about her, and I definitely wasn't staring."
Max gave a slow, knowing nod. "Got it. You're completely, totally unaffected."
"Exactly."
A beat.
Max stretched and cracked his knuckles. "Cool. Then how about a bet?"
Jeremy glanced over warily. "What kind of bet?"
"I say you are into her. You just haven't figured it out yet. So, here's the deal—if I can prove you have feelings for Jenny, you owe me one favor. Anything I choose."
Jeremy scoffed. "You're seriously bored."
"Maybe," Max shrugged. "But I'm right. And when you realize it? You'll owe me."
Jeremy gave him a long, unimpressed look. "And if I win?"
"I'll cook dinner. For a week. Without burning the kitchen down."
"Add dish duty and we've got a deal."
Max smirked and held out his hand.
"Deal."
Jeremy shook it, firm. Dismissive. Unbothered.
At least on the surface.
Max, meanwhile, just leaned back with a casual grin.
One point down. Many to go.