Chapter 4

I’ve heard words like that before.

When I was younger and we had guests over, my cousin Brian would always dig through my room, searching for "treasures."

The drawings I had spent days working on, and the paints my parents had saved up to buy me, would be ruined in seconds—smeared all over.

Even my face would end up painted with streaks of color.

Then Granny Janine would come in, smiling while trying to clean up the mess.

"Oh, my sweet boy, you’re such a rascal," she would say, holding him tight.

"Next time, don’t do that, okay?"

She pretended to be stern, but it never worked.

Just like now.

Jack had stopped Cindy from saying anything worse, but his indulgence only made her more brazen.

Cindy made a silly face at him and reluctantly turned away, pouting.

Victor stepped in to lighten the mood.

"Alright, alright, it’s getting late. Jack, let’s not keep her from working."

I took off my uniform jacket and threw it at them, hard.

"Since he's alive, there’s no need for me to keep doing this job."

Jack stiffened, his expression growing colder by the second.

I imagine no one had ever treated him like this before.

The streetlights flickered on as I rode my bike home.

Wearing my helmet, my vision blurred slightly.

I suddenly remembered the first time I met Jack Stevens.

He was standing there, dressed in a crisp white shirt, with the golden sunlight pouring over him.

His brown eyes seemed to be sprinkled with specks of gold.

"Freshman?"

He was one of the senior students welcoming us.

"Interested in joining the student council?"

And that’s how I ended up in the same department as him.

It was only natural that I got his contact information.

The first time I messaged him, my hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

What was I supposed to say?

I didn’t know.

From the moment I woke up that day, I rehearsed over and over again, until the lights went out that night.

All I managed to type were three dry words.

"Hi, senior."

It seemed like he had his phone in hand, because he replied quickly.

"Still awake?"

But now, when I open our chat window, it’s just me—talking to myself.

Line after line of green bubbles mocking me.

How could someone like that ever fall for me?

Turns out, from the very beginning, he had a plan.