Thursday, May 24 – Library
Jay hadn't planned on coming here.
But when the walls of his apartment began to feel too still, too quiet, and his phone offered nothing but stale group chats and muted notifications, he grabbed his bag and walked. Somehow, the path led to the library.
The moment he stepped inside, the soft hush of the air hit him like a pause button. Sunlight spilled through tall windows, dust particles dancing like tiny ghosts above the rows of old wood shelves. A few scattered students dotted the room, flipping through books or typing half-heartedly on laptops.
Jay moved quietly toward the back, drawn more by the atmosphere than any intent to study.
That's when he saw them.
Emma sat by a window, her expression animated as she chatted with someone sitting across from her—a girl Jay immediately recognized. A girl who wasn't supposed to be here.
Clara.
She wore her casual dress but a little differently., her posture straight, her hands resting on a closed book she hadn't opened once. She looked like she belonged… and yet, absolutely didn't.
Jay froze behind a bookshelf, just far enough to stay out of sight.
Clara Markov, Sitting with Emma.
What the hell was she doing here?
He considered walking away. If she was here on some quiet power play, maybe ignoring her would keep the upper hand. But then Emma laughed at something, her hand brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, and Jay felt that low thrum of discomfort return.
No. He couldn't ignore this.
He stepped out and approached.
Emma noticed him first. "Hey! You made it to the land of books."
Jay offered a lazy grin, his eyes flicking to Clara, who blinked up at him with practiced surprise.
"Oh," Clara said smoothly. "Are you a friend of Emma's?"
Jay didn't even flinch. "Something like that. We sit together in class."
"I'm Clara," she said, offering her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I'm… just visiting. Transferring from another private academy. Thought I'd check out the library while I was here."
Emma nodded. "She's helping me with literary analysis. Her takes are kind of brutal but in a good way."
Jay gave a dry chuckle and shook Clara's hand briefly. "Nice to meet you, Clara."
She tilted her head with a knowing look. "Likewise."
He took the seat across from them, pretending like it didn't feel like sitting across from a ticking time bomb.
The three of them chatted for a bit—mostly Emma leading the conversation, rambling about books, referencing lines from their last literature class. Clara played along beautifully. She even smiled at Emma's dramatic retelling of a tragic poem, offering a feigned gasp and exaggerated horror.
Jay stayed quiet more than usual, letting them talk while watching Clara. Every laugh of hers felt one notch too polished. Every movement, too smooth. Like she was on stage, acting out an improv role with deadly precision.
After about ten minutes, Emma stood up. "Be right back. Need to grab another book before someone else steals it."
As Emma disappeared between the shelves, Clara leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.
"You're slipping," she said under her breath.
Jay stared at her. "You followed me."
"I happened to be in the area."
He didn't buy it, and neither did she.
"Why pretend?" he asked.
"Because that's the game," she replied smoothly. "We both know it."
Jay's voice dropped lower. "You came here and sat with someone who's close to me. You think that's subtle?"
Clara gave a slight shrug. "Emma's quite charming. I see why you keep her around."
"Don't use her like a pawn."
"I'm not using anyone. Yet."
Jay exhaled, sitting back. "You're always two steps ahead."
"That's why I'm still in the game," Clara said. "Unlike you, who left the board and hoped the pieces wouldn't move without you."
He narrowed his eyes. "You know it's better for you if I don't claim anything. Why keep pushing?"
Clara leaned in, her voice low and razor-sharp. "Because you're unpredictable, Jay. That makes you dangerous. You're not interested in power—but power always finds people like you. So I'm not pushing… I'm preparing."
Jay was quiet for a moment. The weight of her words lingered between them.
Finally, he asked, "So what now?"
Clara stood, smoothing her skirt. "Now? We pretend we're strangers again. And I keep watching from a distance… until you stop pretending, you're not one of us."
She turned, just as Emma returned with two new books and a faint smile.
"Did I miss anything?"
"Just book talk," Clara said with a friendly grin. "But I should get going. It was nice chatting."
Emma waved. "Thanks for the help."
Clara glanced back at Jay one last time. "See you around."
When she left, the air in the room finally felt lighter.
Jay leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
Emma raised a brow. "You, okay?"
"Yeah," he muttered. "Just… remembering that people aren't always what they seem."
Emma looked at him curiously, but didn't press.
Jay stared out the window, watching Clara disappear down the hallway.
He hated this game.
But apparently, he was still a player in it.
Jay leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him, watching the space where Clara had been seconds ago. It was like a storm passed through the library and left the chairs rearranged but the silence heavier.
Emma slid one of the books toward him. "You were staring like she stole your lunch money."
Jay blinked. "She's just… sharp. Intense."
Emma shrugged. "I liked her. In a kind of scary, 'would-probably-win-a-debate-while-drinking-coffee' way."
"Accurate," Jay muttered.
Emma narrowed her eyes playfully. "What's your deal with strangers anyway? You always act weird around new people."
He shot her a lazy look. "I act weird around old people too."
"Charming."
Jay leaned back in his chair. "You're really reading all these today?"
Emma raised her hand like a solemn oath. "I am officially on a mission. I promised myself I'd read at least three books in this summer break."
Jay smirked. "You're competing with yourself?"
"I always win."
Jay let out a soft laugh. "You're exhausting, you know."
Emma turned to him, serious for a moment. "Hey… are you okay though? You've seemed off."
He hesitated.
Not because he didn't want to tell her. But because he didn't know how to explain the feeling of being watched and weighed — of conversations filled with half-truths and names he couldn't say aloud.
"I'm fine," he said finally, voice calm. "Just thinking too much."
Emma didn't believe him, but she didn't press.
Instead, she offered him half a granola bar from her pocket. "Thinking's easier with snacks."
Jay took it. "This is probably expired."
"I said easier. Not safer."
He chuckled again, and for a few seconds, things felt normal again — like exams, rooftop parties, and quiet afternoons with friends were still the core of his life.
They spent the next Eighty minutes actually reading, occasionally tossing comments back and forth — Emma criticizing a plot twist, Jay nodding without really processing the page. His mind wandered to Clara's words again and again. Preparing. Watching. She was part of the world he tried so hard to leave behind… but maybe that world wasn't done with him yet.
Eventually, Emma packed her books into her bag.
"I should head back. Still have to help Luna organize some club junk."
Jay nodded, standing with her. "Want me to walk you out?"
Emma glanced up. "Sure."
They walked side by side down the hallway, voices low.
"You really are mysterious," she said.
"I'm just quiet."
"No, quiet people don't attract stormy girls like Clara."
Jay gave a half-smile. "Maybe I'm just unlucky."
They reached the gate.
"You know… if you ever want to talk," she said, softer now. "I'm not just sarcasm and snacks."
Jay met her eyes for a second. "I know."