The late November wind rattled the windows of Eastwood High's library, where the senior free period had turned the large room into a chaotic mix of study groups, whispered gossip, and the occasional muffled laugh. Sunlight filtered through the tall panes, casting long shadows over the scattered tables. Most of the senior class seemed to have migrated here—some actually working on college essays, others scrolling phones or playing quiet card games.
Lydia and Cynthia sat at their usual corner table near the back, laptops open but mostly ignored. They were deep in a hushed debate about which rom-com to rewatch next weekend, passing a bag of gummy worms back and forth like contraband.
"You can't seriously pick 10 Things I Hate About You over To All the Boys," Cynthia whispered, popping a red gummy into her mouth. "Heath Ledger is iconic, but Noah Centineo's fake letters? Chef's kiss."
Lydia rolled her eyes, grinning. "Fake letters are cute, but Kat Stratford is a legend. We're watching it. End of discussion."
"Fine," Cynthia sighed dramatically. "But I get to control the snacks."
Across the room, Jack held court at a larger table near the center. He was surrounded by a loose circle of classmates—soccer teammates, a few girls from lit class, and a couple of juniors who'd wandered over. His golden-blond hair caught the light as he leaned back in his chair, telling a story with his usual animated flair. Laughter rippled around him every few seconds.
Raymond and Julius sat at a smaller table nearby, ostensibly working on a history outline. Raymond's notebook was filled with neat bullet points, while Julius doodled absentmindedly in the margins. They'd been quiet most of the period, but Raymond kept glancing toward Jack's group.
Finally, he closed his notebook. "I'm going to talk to him."
Julius looked up, eyebrow raised. "Jack? Why?"
"Just… want to clear the air. About the chanting and everything." Raymond stood, smoothing his shirt. "Come with?"
Julius shrugged but followed. The two wove through the tables until they reached Jack's group.
"Mind if we join?" Raymond asked, voice even.
Jack looked up, flashing his trademark smile. "Keller, Julius—yeah, pull up chairs."
Some of the others shifted to make room. The conversation paused briefly, then resumed lighter—soccer scores, upcoming winter break plans. Raymond sat directly across from Jack, Julius beside him.
At first, it was surface-level. Raymond asked about Jack's old school, how he was adjusting to Eastwood's team. Jack answered easily, charming as ever—stories about epic games, funny coach moments. Julius stayed mostly silent, observing.
Then Raymond steered it deeper. "You and Lydia seem tight."
Jack's smile didn't falter. "Yeah, she's great. Super smart, easy to talk to. We just click."
Raymond nodded slowly. "People have been giving you guys a hard time with that 'lovers' stuff."
Jack laughed, but it sounded a touch forced. "It's whatever. Harmless teasing. Lydia's cool about it."
Julius finally spoke. "Is it harmless? You don't seem bothered."
Jack shrugged. "Why would I be? Free publicity." He winked at one of the girls, who giggled.
The conversation drifted again, but something shifted. Jack's responses grew shorter. His eyes—usually bright and engaging—looked glassy under the library lights. He blinked a few times, turning his head to glance out the window.
A girl from lit class, Mia, noticed first. She was sitting two seats down, half-listening while scrolling her phone.
"Jack," she said suddenly, voice carrying a little too loud in the quiet room. "Are you crying?"
Heads turned. A few people nearby looked over curiously.
Jack froze, then forced a laugh, wiping quickly at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Nah, allergies. Dust in here or something."
Mia frowned. "It doesn't look like—"
But Raymond was already leaning forward, voice low but firm. "Hey. You okay?"
The direct question cut through the noise. People nearby lost interest almost immediately—Raymond Keller asking something seriously meant it wasn't gossip-worthy yet. Whispers died down; phones came back out. Only their small circle remained focused.
Jack hesitated, smile faltering for the first time anyone had ever seen. His eyes were definitely red-rimmed now, glistening. "Yeah. I'm good." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
Julius exchanged a glance with Raymond—surprise, maybe suspicion.
"You sure?" Raymond pressed quietly. "If something's up, you can say it."
Jack looked between them, then around the table where a couple of others were pretending not to listen. He exhaled sharply. "It's stupid. Family stuff. Not a big deal."
But his hands trembled slightly as he reached for his water bottle. Raymond noticed. Julius did too.
"Want to step outside?" Julius offered, surprising even himself. "Get some air?"
Jack shook his head. "Nah, really. I'm fine." He blinked hard, forcing the smile back. "Anyway, what were we talking about? Winter formal, right?"
The moment passed. The group let it drop, conversation shifting awkwardly to safer topics. But Raymond and Julius didn't forget the crack they'd just seen in Jack's perfect facade.
The bell rang twenty minutes later, signaling the end of free period and the school day. Students packed up in a rush of zippers and chair scrapes.
Lydia and Cynthia gathered their things slowly, still laughing about something trivial.
"Text me when you get home," Cynthia said, hugging her. "And don't forget—we're making that TikTok dance tonight."
"Only if you promise not to post it," Lydia groaned.
"No promises."
They parted in the hall, Cynthia heading to her car, Lydia toward the parking lot.
As Lydia reached her car, her phone buzzed.
Thomas: Hey Harper. Quick question—how do you feel about Raymond these days? Like still crushing or…?
Lydia stared at the screen, heart stuttering. She leaned against her car door, thumbs hovering.
Lydia: Why are you asking?
Thomas: Because the dude's been moody as hell lately. Stern face 24/7 whenever you're around Jack. I think he likes you but won't admit it.
Lydia's breath caught.
Lydia: He does?
Thomas: Pretty obvious to me. And Julius. We've been telling him to talk to you forever but he's stubborn.
Another text came before she could respond.
Thomas: Look—I'm on your side. You're cool. If you still like him, I can help create a space. Like get you two alone without it being weird. Group hangout that "accidentally" leaves you together or something.
Lydia bit her lip, glancing around the emptying parking lot.
Lydia: I… yeah. I still like him. A lot.
Thomas: Knew it. Leave it to me. Friday movie night at your place? I'll make sure Raymond shows and orchestrate the rest.
Lydia: Don't make it obvious.
Thomas: Please. I'm subtle as a ninja.
She smiled despite herself.
Lydia: Thanks, Thomas.
Thomas: Anytime. Operation RayDia is go.
Lydia pocketed her phone, cheeks warm. The day had been ordinary—until it suddenly wasn't.
Across the lot, Raymond stood by Thomas's Jeep with Julius, watching her from a distance. That stern expression was still there, but softer now, uncertain.
Julius nudged him. "You see that smile? She's texting someone good."
Raymond didn't answer, but his eyes lingered on Lydia as she got into her car.
In the rearview mirror, Lydia caught a glimpse of him watching. For the first time in weeks, hope flickered—small, fragile, but real.
Whatever had happened with Jack in the library lingered in the background, a quiet question mark. But for now, the focus shifted forward.
Spaces were about to be created. Truths were about to surface.
And the tangled web? It was finally starting to unravel.