The air conditioning in the Business Law lecture hall was working overtime, but it did nothing to cool the tension Jay felt in her chest. She had arrived fifteen minutes early, securing her usual spot: the third row, right in the middle. It was the "safe" zone—close enough to hear the professor, but far enough to blend into the background.
She was busy organizing her highlighters by color when a heavy sports bag thudded onto the wooden bench next to her.
"Is this seat taken, Sunshine?"
Jay didn't even have to look up to know that voice. The smell of expensive citrus cologne and a hint of peppermint gum gave him away. Mark Keifer Watson slid into the seat beside her, looking far too comfortable for a 7:30 AM class.
"The name is Jay," she said, her voice practiced and sweet as she finally looked at him. "And no, it's not taken."
"Jay. Short for Jaspher Jean," Keifer said, leaning back and stretching his long legs out under the desk. "I did my homework."
Jay's heart gave a small, unprompted thud. "I didn't know the star of the Falcons did homework. I thought you just threw balls into hoops and hoped for the best."
Keifer let out a short, bark-like laugh, his eyes lighting up.
"Ouch. Feisty. I like that. But actually, my dad will kill me if I fail this class. Business Law is 'essential for the future of the Watson Group,' or whatever he says when he's shouting."
Jay kept her smile steady, but a flicker of sadness crossed her mind. At least his father cared enough to shout about his future. Her own stepfather only cared if there was enough money in her purse for him to snatch.
"Well, you picked a good row to sit in if you want to pass," Jay said, turning back to her notebook.
"I didn't pick the row, Mariano. I picked the seat next to you," Keifer replied, his tone dropping into that easy, flirty register he used with every girl on campus.
He leaned in closer, invading her personal space. "I've been watching you. You're always helping people. You ever do anything for yourself?"
Jay's hand tightened around her yellow highlighter. She could feel the heat radiating from him. He was so... alive. So carefree.
"I'm doing something for myself right now," she chirped, turning to him with a grin that didn't reach her ears. "I'm studying."
"Bor-ing," Keifer teased. He reached out and playfully flicked a stray lock of her hair. "You know, you're the first girl who hasn't blushed when I sat next to them. Are you even human, or are you a 'Helpfulness Robot' programmed by the Dean?"
Jay laughed—a light, musical sound she used as a shield.
"Maybe I'm just immune to your charms, Keifer."
Before he could respond, the professor walked in, slamming a thick textbook onto the podium.
"Alright, listen up! This semester, you will have a permanent seat partner. This person will be your partner for the mid-term case study and the final presentation.
No changes. Look at the person next to you. That's your better half for the next five months."
Jay froze. She slowly turned her head to the left. Keifer was already looking at her, a triumphant, mischievous smirk spreading across his face.
"Looks like you're stuck with the 'Golden Boy,' Jay," he whispered, leaning in so close his breath brushed her ear. "Don't worry.
I'm a great partner. I'll bring the snacks, you do the thinking?"
Jay forced her signature smile, though her stomach was doing somersaults. "I think I'll be doing the thinking and making sure you don't fall asleep, Watson."
As the professor began his lecture, Jay tried to focus on the slides, but all she could feel was Keifer's presence next to her. He wasn't even taking notes; he was doodling a small basketball on the corner of her notebook.
For the first time in a long time, Jay felt a different kind of fear.
Not the fear of the dark or the fear of her stepfather's heavy footsteps—but the fear that this boy might actually see through the smile she worked so hard to maintain.