“Thanks.” Kieran grins, then nods at my sketch. “Did I miss the part where we named a new alloy after me?”
“Yes,” I say. “Hot Ego.”
His laugh is soft, lower. Pewter. My pencil skids a millimeter. I fix it.
“We’re setting up the test matrix,” Theo says, sliding a sheet over. “We need consistent boundary conditions.”
“Story of my life.” Kieran meets my eyes. “Do I pass if I dedicate more goals to our boundary conditions?”
Theo snorts. I don’t. The pencil tip snaps.
“Please don’t call me a boundary condition.”
“What should I call you?” That half smile. “Professor? Coach? Captain of pretending you didn’t see me point at you from center ice?”
Heat floods my neck. “I didn’t know what you were doing.”
“Looks like someone explained it.” His eyes hold mine. “Next time, wave back.”
Theo clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by his backpack. “I’m gonna bow out before this gets any more…athletic.”
He emails me the file, then hesitates. “Send me the updated measurements. I’ll rerun the simulations.”
Concern, not jealousy. Sage-green with a thin gray edge.
That’s always been Theo—steady, safe.
A month ago, that steadiness would’ve felt like hope. Now it just feels like friendship.
The crush doesn’t end with drama. It just…goes quiet.
“See you in class,” I say, and it feels like closing a door I don’t need anymore.
Theo smiles—small, sincere—and leaves.
The room exhales.
So do I.
“So,” I say, turning back to the table and straightening our notes. Order to chaos. Always. “Division of labor: you handle the prototype geometry, I’ll finish the sensor housing and draft the structural section. Theo will tweak the simulation once we send updated specs.”
“Perfect.” Kieran leans in, sleeves pushed up, forearms distracting. “I’ll rework the 3D model tonight.”
I refocus on the outline. “If we push next week, we can finish the design portion before Presidents’ Day.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
My stomach tightens. “What now?”
He rubs the back of his neck. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he is nervous.
“My brother and some of his teammates rented a place upstate for the long weekend,” he says. “Mid-season reset. Board games, hiking. Pretending the world isn’t on fire.”
“The Defenders?” I ask.
“Yeah. Both my siblings. A bunch of the crew.” His mouth curves, softer than usual. “Liam invited me a few days ago. I haven’t seen them in months.”
He pauses. Looks at me.
