Riley sat stiffly beside Zayden as the teacher hesitantly resumed the lesson. Her heart thundered in her chest, half from the humiliation, half from the attention—his attention. She could feel the burn of a hundred eyes on them, whispering, judging, speculating.
She wanted to disappear.
Zayden, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. Reclined slightly in the chair, one arm casually resting behind her seat, his confidence oozed into every inch of the room.
He didn't care what they thought.
And somehow, that made it worse.
When the bell finally rang, Riley was the first to stand, grabbing her bag and storming toward the door. But Zayden was quicker. He followed her out into the corridor, falling into step beside her.
"You didn't have to do that," she hissed under her breath.
"Yes, I did," he replied, tone calm. "They were out of line."
"I can fight my own battles."
"I know. But I wanted to fight this one with you."
She stopped abruptly, spinning to face him. "Why? Why are you doing all this?"
He looked at her for a long second, his expression unreadable.
"Because I can't stop thinking about you."
Riley's breath caught. There was no teasing in his voice. No smug grin. Just honesty—raw and real. It made her chest ache in a way she wasn't ready for.
"I don't need your pity," she whispered.
"It's not pity, Riley." He leaned closer, voice dropping. "It's obsession."
Before she could respond, the school security guard approached them. "Morgan, Adrian—Principal's office. Now."
Zayden rolled his eyes. "What a surprise."
"Apparently, someone reported you for disrupting class," the guard added, eyeing them both. "You too, Morgan, for causing 'tension among peers.'"
Riley blinked. "What? I didn't do anything!"
"Tell it to the principal."
As they followed the guard down the hallway, Riley couldn't help but glance sideways at Zayden. He looked amused, not the least bit worried.
She, on the other hand, was fuming.
This place wasn't just trying to crush her.
It wanted to break her completely.
But as her arm brushed against Zayden's, and his fingers subtly linked with hers for just a moment—defiant and protective—she realized something.
She wasn't going to let them win.
Not without a fight.