"No need! I told you I'm fine already!" I exclaimed over the phone.
"Yes, I promise!" I raised my right hand like I was swearing an oath, even though he couldn't see me.
Good thing Blaze's manager called before he booked a flight here. I think he heard from Dad that I was hospitalized.
"Yes, I got discharged the same day."
"Ice is such a traitor," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
On the other end, Ace scolded me. Apparently, Ice was right.
"No, I told him I hate it!" I protested, but Ace ended up siding with Ice. Hmph!
"You should thank him properly," he said, voice gentle and affectionate, as always.
I reluctantly agreed.
"Later, Ace!" I hung up just as he launched into his usual end-of-call script—the whole take care of yourself, eat properly, get enough sleep routine. Like a sweet, overprotective robot. Honestly, how could anyone hate that? It's always so sincere it makes your heart melt a little.
But then—footsteps. From behind the tree.
I froze. I didn't even need to turn around. I already knew who it was.
Right on cue, Ice stepped out from behind the tree, walking toward me like a scene straight out of a movie...
If the lead role was played by an emotionally constipated, forever-grumpy iceberg.
I leaned back against the trunk, on the spot where he usually naps. The soft grass and fresh air made this little area feel like a secret garden. I never got tired of it.
"Did you hang up because you were backstabbing me to your boyfriend?" he asked, deadpan, towering over me with a paper bag in one hand.
"Didn't work. He sided with you," I pouted.
I heard him smirk. I heard it.
It was lunch break, and honestly, I wasn't even sure why I was here—under this tree, with grass tickling my ankles, and sunlight filtering through the leaves like it belonged in a romantic K-drama. I had every intention of heading to the cafeteria, wallet in hand, stomach already dreaming of something fried and probably unhealthy.
But just as I stood up, Dhylan made a miraculous escape the moment the bell rang—like some action movie protagonist dodging a final boss—and Oriel went charging after him, full speed, like she was born to chase love and chaos.
That left me standing in the middle of the classroom, completely abandoned and starving, until Ice walked by my desk, dropped a shadow over me, and muttered a single order like he was some sort of royalty.
"Wait for me by the tree."
No explanation. No option. Just that. Like I was a soldier receiving a top-secret mission. And because I'm such a model citizen (and because he's technically the student council president and could probably write me up for breathing wrong), I obeyed.
Now here I am, sitting like a confused squirrel wondering how I got dragged into another Iceberg mystery.
"Here." He extended the bag toward me.
I looked up at him, blinking. What's that? Sweets? A peace offering? Evidence?
I squinted suspiciously.
Now he looked confused.
"Do you want it or not?" His voice turned dangerously flat.
"You haven't told me what's in it!" I argued, clutching my invisible pearls.
"Never mind." He started pulling it back, but I caught it just in time.
"Aha!" I peeked inside, victorious.
He sighed like I was an unsolvable math problem.
Just one glance, and I knew what it was.
My eyes widened. My mouth fell open.
Lunch boxes. Homemade.
He looked… done. Like he'd already regretted every decision that led to this moment.
Don't care.
I unwrapped the scarf I always kept in my bag and spread it out like a picnic blanket on the grass. Perfect.
But before I could finish unpacking, I caught him sneaking away.
"Hey! Where are you going?!" I grabbed his sleeve like a kid chasing after a snack thief.
"It's lunch. I gave you your food. What else do you want?" He said it like I was a burden, like my hand was a slimy frog clinging to his uniform.
Rude. Offensive.
"Come on, let's eat together!" I tugged again, determined.
"Don't wanna."
"Pretty please?"
No budge.
Next Chapter:
Lunch Day 4: Fire wants a horror movie date, Ice wants peace—and neither is getting what they want.
Meanwhile, Oriel's locked door isn't enough to keep Dhylan (or his apology) out…
A kiss, a photo, and a whole lot of trouble.
Who said lunch breaks were relaxing?