Ximena's POV
The cafeteria hummed with its usual chaos of conversations and rattling lunch trays, but one voice sliced through everything else like a blade.
Ezekiel Enzo.
My hand stopped mid-motion as I was about to place my water bottle on the table. Every nerve in my body went on high alert as my eyes automatically searched for him.
There he was.
Standing rigid beside the football table, his entire frame wound tight with fury. His face had turned a dangerous shade of red, fists clenched so hard his knuckles had gone white. I'd watched him get pumped up before games, seen him intense on the field, but this was something else entirely. This was raw, unfiltered rage crackling through the air around him.
"What the hell is happening over there?" Glenda whispered, craning her neck to get a clearer view. Her eyes were wide with fascination.
