CHAPTER 4 – FRANCINE: FIGURED!
I knew I had gone overboard back there. But he had it coming. After all the warnings I'd given, all the times I told him to back off, he still tried to push me—still tried to provoke me. And now? Well… he deserved every second of the scolding, every punch, every ounce of my fury.
The teacher's voice snapped me back to reality. "Ms. Flores, you should have restrained yourself a little more." Her tone was sharp but not unkind. "Now, we should move on to our discussion."
I hid the flush rising to my cheeks and forced myself to nod. Some things didn't need apologies; restraint was enough. But restraint wasn't my style.
The bell rang, releasing a flood of students into the hallways. The cafeteria was chaos incarnate, filled with chatter, clattering trays, and the occasional shout over the noise. I waited for the line to thin before grabbing a tray, then walked out to meet my basketball teammates.
They were already calling my name. As I approached, they raised their hands for high-fives. I led the school's women's basketball, soccer, and darts teams, along with a few side hobbies in baseball, badminton, and track. Frustrating? Sometimes. Exhausting? Always. But I loved it. It was all mine—the feeling of being in control, the rush of competition, the satisfaction of teamwork. My sister? Cheerleading, naturally, and of course she was captain.
Friendships here were complicated. Few dared to approach me. Most were intimidated by my reputation, the stories, and the aura of someone untouchable. Only my teammates were exceptions—those who got close because of shared effort and trust on the field. And that was enough. I didn't need others prying into my life. Most of my friends were girls, part of my women's teams, forced to interact with me yet still keeping their distance.
The bell rang again. Break over. Time to find the next class.
I spotted Andrew Claid almost immediately, standing awkwardly by the lockers as if scanning for me. My chest skipped a beat. Even through those thick glasses, I could see the sharpness of his blue eyes. There was… something familiar, a tug at the edges of memory, though I couldn't quite place it.
I motioned for him to follow, and he did, a small nod acknowledging the silent command. Our paths converged like two puzzle pieces long separated, and I felt a surge of something I hadn't expected: curiosity and maybe a flicker of the past.
Chemistry was our last class. And by the luck—or mischief—of the teacher, we were paired as lab partners. Everyone else had already left, but I excused myself to the restroom. A quick trip, nothing more.
Meanwhile, Andrew returned, realizing he'd forgotten something. As he approached the door to leave, his brow furrowed. The knob wouldn't turn. Locked.
"What's going on?" I asked, stepping out just as he began tugging at it frantically.
"It won't open!" His voice rose slightly as the door rattled under his attempts. The sound echoed across the empty lab.
I tested it myself. Locked, solid, unyielding.
"Uh… hello? Can anyone hear us? We're stuck!" he called out, then dug out his phone, tapping furiously for a signal.
I leaned against the nearest counter, arms resting on the sink. I realized, with a pang of irritation, that my chest was prominently displayed in this blouse. Instinctively, I folded my arms.
Right. Today I'm a girl. Thanks, Dad. Because of him, I had to monitor my every gesture, every movement. No awkward stares, no missteps. I hated the restriction, but there was nothing I could do.
Andrew's phone buzzed with an error. His frustration was obvious, furrowing his brow further.
"If there's a way out, I'd have tried it already," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though my pulse quickened.
"What do you mean?" His voice was anxious, tinged with frustration.
"This lab is soundproof. No signal. This door is the only way out," I explained, folding my arms, the edges of my patience showing. He groaned and dragged a chair closer, his movements tense and agitated.
"You didn't tell me earlier? I look like an idiot," he muttered.
"I wanted you to test it yourself," I said. "Turns out, you failed." I let a tiny smirk escape. "Sorry… not sorry."
He gave a single nod, eyes avoiding mine as always. And yet, I couldn't stop myself from staring. His blue eyes, the ones that pierced behind the thick lenses—they were sharp, calculating, and mesmerizing.
"The only way out is to wait for maintenance. Six-thirty," I added casually, watching him tense further.
"Six-thirty… PM?" His anxiety sharpened, a subtle tremor in his voice.
"Of course, PM," I snapped, half amused, half frustrated. "If it were AM, I'd have broken this door by now."
A tense silence fell between us. I crossed my legs, resting my elbow on the sink and my head on my hand, trying to appear casual.
"Nice cover-ups," I said suddenly.
"Huh?" He looked up sharply, startled, yet still avoided my eyes.
"Cover-ups. Don't play dumb with me, Kevin Ward."
And there it was—the moment I had been waiting for.
His eyes widened behind those glasses. Mouth slightly parted. The shock, the disbelief, the vulnerability—it was all there. I smirked, savoring the reveal.
"I—I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, still averting his gaze.
"I said don't play dumb. Those glasses, the wig, the braces, the faded clothes… I know exactly who you are," I pressed, leaning just slightly closer. "Still denying it? Maybe you want to take them off—except for your clothes."
For the first time, he met my gaze. Really met me. Blue eyes locked on mine, wide and startled, flashing the uncertainty, the panic, and the calculation of someone caught in the act.
And I smiled. Not cruelly, not mockingly—just that triumphant smile of someone who had finally caught the truth.
Even though we were trapped, even though the lab walls were cold and the air felt tighter than usual, I couldn't deny the thrill. The tension between us was electric, unspoken yet undeniable. Every flicker of his nervous glance, every subtle movement he made, only fueled the rush of adrenaline I had been feeling all day.
I had him. I knew him. And for the first time since the day he walked into this school, we were on equal ground.
And in that cramped, locked-up lab, with the echo of our frustration bouncing off the walls, I realized this day was only beginning.