Tom's POV
I frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. "You know, I've never seen you in Algebra before."
He shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't usually have Algebra in the morning. Only on Mondays. It's normally one of my last periods during the week — according to my timetable."
I nodded slowly, taking that in. "Right. You don't get a set schedule when you're new. It constantly changes until the school can lock you into one. But, honestly, it shifts for everyone every month."
He seemed to relax a little at that, like I'd just explained some grand secret of Millwood High. "That's… weird," he said with a small laugh.
"Welcome to Millwood," I muttered, slinging my bag over my shoulder as we started walking down the hall.
We passed through waves of noisy students, the smell of cafeteria coffee and cheap perfume thick in the air. Luke walked beside me, quiet but not awkward. It was strange — I wasn't used to someone tagging along without some hidden reason or social agenda.
For once, it didn't feel forced. Still, I couldn't help but feel the familiar itch of paranoia in the back of my head.
Was he really just trying to be friendly? Or was this another setup waiting to happen?
Either way, I kept walking — straight toward Algebra, straight into whatever the hell this new week was gonna throw at me.
As we made our way down the hall, the chatter of students and the squeak of sneakers on tile fading into background noise, a realization hit me like a goddamn bolt of lightning.
Fuck. What if he asked to sit with me?
I always sit with her in Algebra — that's our unspoken thing. He doesn't know that. Hell, what if she's not even in class this morning? My stomach twisted at the thought.
I tried to play it cool, keep walking like nothing was going on in my head, but the thought kept circling like a vulture.
Then, before I could overthink it any further, my question answered itself.
"Hi guys!"
Her voice was bright, cheerful, familiar — and then I felt it. Her arms draped casually around both our shoulders, her scent brushing past me like she owned the air around us. I turned my head slightly and there she was: Imogen.
All sunshine and soft smiles, her hair brushing against my cheek as she grinned between us. "Looks like we all have Algebra this morning," she said with a light laugh.
And then I saw it.
That fucking look in Luke's eyes.
The same damn look he'd had the day she joined us at lunch — the way his eyes lit up, that flash of surprise mixed with something I didn't want to name.
Interest. Admiration. Maybe more.
My jaw clenched before I could stop it. That hot, burning wave of jealousy crawled right up my spine, coiling tight in my chest.
For some reason I couldn't even explain — it just boiled me.
It shouldn't have bothered me. It really shouldn't have. But it did.
Why the hell did it piss me off so much to see him look at her like that?
Imogen didn't notice. She was chatting away, completely oblivious to the silent storm brewing inside me. But I noticed.
And when Luke smiled politely at her and she smiled back, I knew exactly how this was going to go down. Now, I wouldn't feel even a little bad for the way he was about to find out that she sits with me in Algebra.
Not one bit.
"How was your weekend, Luke?" Imogen asked as we walked down the hall, her tone light and friendly — but her attention flickered between the both of us like she couldn't decide who to focus on.
Luke straightened up slightly, like a soldier being addressed by his commanding officer. "My weekend was fine, thanks for asking," he replied, trying to sound casual — but I caught it. That faint fucking blush creeping up his neck. Subtle, but there.
Imogen didn't notice. Of course she didn't. But I fucking did.
We walked into the classroom just as Mrs. Green made her way to the front, already tapping her pen against the desk. Imogen turned toward me, her eyes bright and playful.
"What about you, Tom? How was your weekend?" she asked, her gaze meeting mine — curious, interested, like she actually wanted to know.