I bite the inside of my cheek and say nothing. If I speak, I might scream. Or worse—admit how much his words sting.
Noah shifts beside him. “C’mon, man.”
But Tex doesn’t move. He just looks at me one more time—like I’m someone he doesn’t recognize anymore—and then walks into the classroom.
Leaving me standing there with my pulse hammering and my stomach twisted into knots.
By the time I step into the classroom, my pulse has only just started to settle. My lips still tingle faintly, not from River’s kiss—but from the fire Tex has lit in its wake.
I don’t understand him. I don’t understandanyof them.
“Miss Ashthorne,” the instructor’s voice snaps me out of my head. “You’re with Vexley today.”
I turn toward the back corner of the room where Noah is already at one of the workstations, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His brightgreen eyes lift when I approach, unreadable as ever, but I catch the faintest twitch of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Rough morning?” Noah says, sliding a laptop my way.
“You saw.”
“Everyonesaw.”
I pull out the chair beside him and slump into it with a sigh. “Great.”
He taps something on the screen. “Don’t worry. This place has a two-day attention span, max. By tomorrow, someone will have set the science building on fire or streaked through the lunchroom or whatever rich kids do to stay entertained.”
I don’t smile, but I’m close.
He’s watching me a little too closely, looking at me over the rims of his glasses. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, even though my chest is tight and my stomach flutters from Tex’s words.
Noah doesn’t press. Instead, he turns the laptop toward me, launching whatever simulation or assignment we are supposed to work on.
I study the map, noting a pattern I didn’t see.
“You’re good at this,” I say.
He shrugs. “I like systems. Patterns. Code makes more sense than people do.”
I nod.
“So… what’s the deal with River?”
I blink. “What?”
“I mean, he seems decent. For a normie. You into that whole golden retriever boyfriend thing?”
“Are you seriously asking me that in the middle of class?”
He smirks. “Just making conversation. Trying to keep my partner from spontaneously combusting under Tex’s death glare.”
I give him a flat look. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m hilarious. You’re just in denial.”
Despite myself, I crack a tiny smile.
And maybe Noah sees it—because his gaze softens, just a little.
