Jay-Jay POV
I didn't walk into school.
I arrived.
Like a meteor. Like a scandal. Like the season finale of a show no one thought was coming back.
Heels clicking. Jacket sharp. Lip gloss lethal. The courtyard went silent like someone had unplugged the drama.
I was already seated when Section E walked in.
Front row. Center seat. Lip gloss lethal. Jacket sharp. Notebook open — mostly for dramatic effect.
They froze in the doorway like someone had hit pause.
David blinked like he'd seen a ghost. Calix tripped over his own swagger. Blaster muttered something that sounded like "Oh no." And Yuri? Yuri looked like he'd swallowed a cactus and tried to smile through it.
Keifer was last. He didn't move. Just stared like I'd rewritten his entire personality.
I didn't look up.
Didn't flinch.
Just tapped my phone, reopened Instagram, and let the notifications roll in like applause.
The whispers started immediately.
"What the hell?" David hissed.
"What happened to her?" Calix muttered.
"She's changed," Blaster said. "It's gonna be hard to earn her forgiveness now."
Yuri leaned closer to Keifer. "She looks like she could sue us for emotional damage and win."
I didn't even blink.
"You guys are really bad at whispering," I said, loud enough for the whole class to hear. "Like, genuinely. It's embarrassing. Is this what happens when the only girl in the group grows a spine?"
Silence.
The teacher looked up from her desk, confused. "Is everything alright?"
"Perfect," I said, flipping a page in my notebook. "Just watching a live performance of regret."
Yuri cleared his throat. "Jay—"
I turned slowly, like I was giving him the privilege of my attention.
"Oh good," I said. "You still speak. I was worried guilt had taken your vocal cords."
He blinked. "I didn't think you'd come back like this."
"Like what?" I asked. "Alive? Loud? Unapologetic?"
Keifer shifted in his seat. I didn't give him a glance.
Yuri tried again. "You're still mad."
I smiled. "Mad? No. I'm just finally allergic to manipulation."
The teacher cleared her throat. "JayJay, do you need a moment outside?"
I stood up, slow and dramatic. "Nope. I'm good. Just reclaiming my narrative in real time."
Then I sat back down, crossed my legs, and pulled out a pen like I was signing autographs.
Because I wasn't here to be polite.
I was here to be remembered.
The bell rang like a mercy kill.
I packed my things slowly. Deliberately. Like I had all the time in the world and zero interest in sharing it.
Section E scrambled out first — probably hoping to regroup, re-strategize, or just breathe without choking on the tension.
I walked out last.
Heels echoing. Jacket sharp. Lip gloss still lethal.
The hallway buzzed with whispers.
"She's back."
"She looks different."
"She looks dangerous."
Correct.
I turned a corner and — surprise — Yuri was waiting.
Leaning against the lockers like he was auditioning for a redemption arc.
"Jay," he said, stepping forward.
I didn't stop walking.
"Yuri," I replied. "Still lurking, I see."
"I just want to talk."
"Bold of you to assume I want to listen."
He followed me down the hall like a lost puppy with a superiority complex.
"You're not even going to give me a chance?"
I stopped.
Turned.
Smiled — the kind that made people nervous.
"You had a chance," I said. "You used it to trap me in an engagement I didn't want and a silence I didn't choose."
He flinched. "I thought it was what you needed."
"No," I said. "It was what you needed. Control. Comfort. A version of me that didn't challenge you."
Keifer appeared at the end of the hallway, watching. Not moving. Just absorbing every word like it was a punch to the ribs.
I didn't care.
I turned back to Yuri.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked. "Start by apologizing for confusing possession with love."
He opened his mouth.
I walked away.
Because I wasn't here to be claimed.
I was here to be reckoned with.