Class finally ended, students pouring out through the wide double doors in clusters. Hope and Zara stood slowly, gathering their books, trying to pretend the earlier embarrassment had never happened.
At the front of the room, James slung his bag over one shoulder—and Diane was already walking toward him.
Her posture was graceful, confident.
Her smile carefully arranged.
Her eyes bright with a warmth that came from years of familiarity… and something undeclared.
Diane: "Well, you haven't changed. Still late. Still acting like the universe will wait for you."
James laughed lightly. "And you still found me anyway."
They stood comfortably, like two people who had shared more years than they cared to admit.
They had attended the same high school.
Same classrooms. Same hallway. Same air.
Diane—rich, polished, from a family that valued reputation above all else.
James—brilliant, determined, living on scholarship and reputation alone.
She had admired him secretly for years—his quiet strength, his relentless drive, the kindness behind his sarcasm.
But she never said anything.
Because her family would never approve.
Because she didn't have the courage to cross that invisible line.
Now, in university, she intended to rewrite that history. She wanted people to see they were close—even if only as friends.
To her, being beside him felt right.
To him, she was simply a familiar face in a new world.
Across the room, Hope and Zara watched them briefly.
Zara nudged her.
Zara: "You see that? Maybe that's his girlfriend."
Hope blinked, then shrugged with zero interest.
Hope: "Okay. Good for him."
Zara stared. "So you're really not bothered?"
Hope: "Zara… I said he was handsome, not my destiny."
They laughed softly, Hope swinging her bag onto her shoulder as they headed toward the exit. She didn't give James another glance.
Not because she was pretending.
Because she genuinely saw nothing for her there.
Meanwhile, James turned back to Diane, something clearly on his mind.
James: "Hey… can I ask you something?"
Diane: "Of course."
Her heart lifted—until she heard the question.
James: "Do you know that girl? The one who spoke earlier… the one who kinda… shouted?"
Diane's face fell instantly.
Her smile froze.
Her posture stiffened.
Her brows pinched—just slightly, but enough to reveal everything she felt.
Diane: "Her?" she asked, voice tightening. "Why do you want to know about her?"
James shrugged casually.
"I was curious. She just seemed… different."
Diane's stomach twisted at the word.
Different.
Interesting.
Memorable.
All the things she wished he would say about her.
She forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Diane: "You'll meet many girls here, James. No need to worry about that one."
But James wasn't fooled.
He tilted his head slightly, studying her reaction.
Still, he let it slide.
James: "Fair enough."
But the spark of curiosity stayed in his eyes—much to Diane's irritation.
She walked beside him as they left the hall, her mind already racing.
Hope Turner.
That girl with a loud voice, quiet confidence, and effortless presence.
If she was going to be a threat, Diane would have to tread carefully.
Very carefully.