Section E Was Never Quiet
Section E had a reputation.
Not the cute, harmless kind.
The kind teachers mentioned in the staff room with tired sighs and dramatic hand gestures. Too loud. Too competitive. Too many strong personalities in one room. It wasn't a class — it was controlled chaos.
And at the center of that chaos were two people who refused to lose.
Jay-jay didn't try to be intimidating.
She just was.
She sat near the window, sunlight catching the edge of her notebook, pen moving quickly as if the lesson was a personal challenge. She never rushed. Never hesitated. When teachers asked questions, she didn't raise her hand dramatically,she simply answered. Correctly.
Across the room, leaning back in his chair like rules were optional, was Keifer Waston.
He wasn't trying to be impressive.
He just naturally was.
He had that annoying confidence — the kind that came from knowing exactly how smart he was but pretending he didn't care. His answers were lazy but accurate. His smirk constant. His attention? Rarely where it should be.
Except when it came to her.
"Waston," the teacher called sharply. "If you're done staring at the ceiling, perhaps you'd like to answer?"
A few snickers spread across the room.
Keifer didn't sit up immediately. He glanced sideways instead.
Jay-jay didn't look at him
But she was listening.
"Page 47," he said casually. "Second paragraph. The answer's implied, not directly stated."
The teacher paused.
Checked.
Sighed.
"Correct."
The class groaned.
Jay-jay finally looked up — not impressed.
"Lucky guess?" she muttered just loud enough.
Keifer's smirk sharpened.
"If I guessed, I'd guess better."
She rolled her eyes.
There it was.
The spark.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just tension woven into ordinary moments.
The bell rang, breaking the thin thread between them.
Students moved in waves — bags slung over shoulders, chairs scraping loudly. Jay-jay packed her things calmly, already mentally ahead to the next class.
"Jay."
She didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Aries stood by the door, leaning casually against the frame. Older. Taller. Watching everything like it was a chessboard.
"You forgot this," he said, holding up her water bottle.
She walked over, taking it from him. "You enjoy embarrassing me?"
"It builds character."
She scoffed.
Across the room, Keifer watched the exchange quietly.
Too quietly.
He knew Aries was her brother. Everyone did.
That wasn't the problem.
The problem was how easily she smiled around him.
The problem was that she rarely smiled like that in class.
Aries' eyes shifted.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
His gaze landed briefly on Keifer -calm, unreadable.
Then back to Jay-jay.
"I'll see you later," Aries said lightly.
Jay-jay nodded and turned back inside to grab the last of her books.
When she looked up again, Keifer was standing in front of her desk.
Too close.
"You planning to stand there all day?" she asked coolly.
He tilted his head.
"You planning to smile like that for everyone?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
For a second — just a second — his confidence faltered.
But pride covered it quickly.
"Nothing," he said lightly.
But it didn't feel like nothing.
And for the first time, the tension between them wasn't just competition.
It was something waiting.