—

  —

  With one arm resting on my stomach and the other scrolling through my phone, I lay sprawled on my bed. A knock at the door made me pause.

  “Shayna, are you in there?” came a familiar voice.

  “Coming,” I called, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Still in my baggy t-shirt and shorts, I padded over, unlocked the door, and opened it.

  “Wasn’t expecting you today,” I said, stepping aside to let him in. He didn’t answer right away, and I shut the door behind him.

  Something was off.

  His jaw was clenched, arms crossed. Then, bluntly:

  “Are you working with Robin?”

  The question caught me off guard. “Robin? What makes you think that?” I crossed my arms to match his.

  “He mentioned your name when I saw him,” he said flatly.

  I shook my head and let out a breath. “I see. Let me clarify, then. He texted me about an hour ago, and I told him you were probably in the student council room. Should I not have?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Hotaka stayed silent, lips pressed into a thin line.

  I sighed and continued. “Look, I want the school in good hands. Even though I wanted Tomiko to win, the fact is he won. I was annoyed, but I’ve moved on. You know me, Hotaka… I’d never work with Robin.” The last words came out with pure hatred.

  He scratched the back of his neck and exhaled before making his way to the bed. Without another word, he dropped, landing face-up beside where I had been lying.

  “You’ve always been honest,” he said. “So if you working with Robin, you’d tell me.”

  I flopped down next to him. Our shoulders barely touched as we stared at the ceiling.

  “So,” I asked, “what’s he up to this time?”

  “Not sure yet, but he’s interested in Marcus,” Hotaka muttered. “He’s a pain.”

  “I just hope whatever he’s planning doesn’t drag the whole class into it. I’m too drained for more of his games.” I pressed a hand to my forehead. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him.”

  We fell into a quiet lull. Eventually, I rolled onto my side, propping my head up on my hand as I looked at him.

  “Aren’t you leaving?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or is there something else?”

  “Want to get something to eat?” he asked, out of nowhere.

  I stared at him for a moment before laughing. “Why are you always like this?”

  “So, is that a yes?” he asked, turning to face me. “I’m paying.”

  I instantly sat up with a smug smile. “Such a gentleman.” I stretched my arms before standing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, let me get changed.”

  Taking the cue, he pushed himself off the bed and headed for the door. “Don’t take forever like you usually do,” he teased.

  I rolled my eyes, shoving him out and closing the door behind him.

  Now what did I feel like eating?