It’s… humbling.
It’s also infuriating.
Because it’s exactly what I wanted him to do.
And it still doesn’t feel like enough.
Afterward, the parents mill around, buzzing about homework packets and lunch volunteer sign-ups.
I head for the hallway. I need air. I need out.
But of course, he’s there too.
Leaning against the wall by the lockers, arms folded, eyes down.
He sees me.
Straightens a little.
Doesn’t approach.
Just lets me decide.
I almost keep walking.
Almost.
But something in me veers.
I stop two feet in front of him.
“Nice jeans,” I mutter.
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Didn’t think you noticed.”
“I notice a lot. Doesn’t mean I’m impressed.”
“I know.”
The silence blooms.
I cross my arms. “What are you doing here, Jav?”
“Same as you. Showing up.”
“For who?”
“For him,” he says. No hesitation.
And damn it if that doesn’t sting.
Because he means it.
“He thinks you walk on stardust,”I whisper.
Jav’s jaw flexes. “I don’t.”
“I know that. You know that. But he doesn’t.”
