Kian’s brow furrowed. “A distraction?”
“Yes. I’m very busy. And no, you can’t help,” she added, before he could offer. “I’m sure you have plenty going on, too. Plus, I don’t know you. And if I’m being honest, I don’t really like you. Okay? I haven’t forgiven you for what you did to Mel, and I’m not just going to forget that just becauseyouthink you have a crush on me.”
Thatlanded.
For the first time, the light in Kian’s eyes wavered. His fingers curled around the strap of his guitar case.
“That’s not—that wasn’t my intention...” he murmured.
Riya set her jaw, tampering down the unwelcome prickle of guilt, and turned back to her locker. Conversation over.
But Kian lingered.
“You say you don’t like me,” he mused, almost to himself, “but you’re still being careful with my feelings. You could have been a lot meaner. Which means you don’t hate me, right?”
Riya stilled.
No. She wasn’t being careful with his feelings. She was being clear. Efficient. And she didn’t know him enough tohatehim. That was all.
Kian managed a small, sad smile. “Anyway, if youreallywant me to keep my distance, I’ll respect that.”
“...Really? Just like that?”
“Of course. If that’s what you want.” He swallowed, eachword scraped thin. “I won’t bother you. But... it’ll be hard, you know? Pretending I don’t feel this way.”
Riya blinked. No grand declaration, no desperate plea?
“Good.” She cleared her throat. “Well... it wasfine talking to you.”
For a beat, something dark clouded Kian’s face. Then it was gone.
Maybe he was just disappointed. Maybe it was his pride.
Either way, a knot pulled tight in her gut for no good reason. She’d done what needed doing.
And if all went the way it should, that would be the end of it.
True to his word, Kian kept his distance—technically.
But all week Riya still caught glimpses of him in the hallways, lingering around corners, staring at her with his big dark eyes like she was the most fascinating thing in the universe.
It was unnerving.
The first time, she’d been pinning the Fall Talent Show sign-up sheet to a corkboard, aligning it so the edges ran perfectly parallel.
“It’s still a little crooked,” a voice murmured behind her.
She exhaled through her nose, ready to ignore it—then stepped back.
Annoyingly, the voice was right: The sign-up sheet was off by a hair. She adjusted the sign-up sheet, pressing thepushpins in harder than necessary.
When she turned around, Kian was already speed-walking away, nearly colliding with a trash can before veering around the corner.
The next time, she’d dropped her mechanical pencil in the crowded hallway—a minor inconvenience, but an annoying one. She didn’t use justanypencil; she used a very particular brand, with a comfortable grip and precise, smooth lead weight.
She sighed, bracing herself to navigate the chaos in search of it.
Except... she didn’t have to. Because somehow, seconds later, she found it tucked back into her pocket.
