Riya stiffened. “Again, no idea what you’re talking about.”
Quin tossed the ball again, catching it easily. “Ah, so we’re playing the denial game? That’s fine. Because I know what I saw.”
Riya’s pulse flickered—quick, irritated. “And what do you think you saw?”
Quin smirked. “I saw Kian Kho trailing you around like a baby duck imprinted on hismaman.” They twirled the ball between their fingers. “And I saw you guys at the library. He looked positively smitten, leaving you a drink. Iced tea, was it?”
If Quin was already joking about it... how long until everyone else started wondering, too? And what if they looked too closely—not at Kian, but ather?
Riya kept her expression neutral. “You spend a concerningamount of time monitoring my life.”
“I contain multitudes. And for the record, I have my own life, too. I wasverybusy engaging in my daily meditation before you rudely barged in.”
“Napping is not meditation.”
Quin tossed the ball again. “Clearly,you’re no meditator.”
This time, Riya snatched the ball mid-arc. “How can you even afford to take naps right now? Don’t you have college apps?”
Quin shrugged, grinning. “I finished themagesago. By the look on your face, you haven’t finished yours, have you?Tsktsk.That’s why you’re all...” They waved a hand vaguely in her direction.“This.”
Riya’s eyebrow twitched.
But maybe they were right: Shewasbeing absurd, wasn’t she? Harping on other people when she could barely focus on anything herself.
She looked away and flipped open her notebook, eyes darting over the pages—half-finished checklists, budget breakdowns, meeting minutes.
None of them helped her now.
Quin’s smile faded, and they sat up, concerned.
“Oh, shit. Did I go too far?”
Riya couldn’t answer that.
Instead, she snapped her notebook shut.
“Just... please be there on Tuesday,” she said, her throat tight. “I already wrote the initial proposal for potentialprom themes, so all I need is your approval on the agenda.”
She headed for the door.
“Wait, Riya—”
She closed it behind her.
Chapter 9
On Friday morning, Riya stumbled through the hallway, eyes grainy, stomach a sour knot.
She could still taste the morning’s panic: waking up late, missing both alarms, sprinting to the bus stop with her shoelaces undone. An unthinkable offense in her clockwork life. She had nightmares to blame. Ones of Kian chasing her, Quin’s laughter ringing in her ears, and her Caltech essay screaming about the end-of-the-month deadline.
Now, surrounded by the crush of students, she fumbled toward her locker, each step setting off a fresh wave of nausea. She needed her planner. She needed order. Something, anything, to stitch the morning back together.
Except everywhere she turned, she felt it.
The eyes. Students glancing sideways. Whispering.
It was happening. Exactly what Quin had warned her about. Sure, they didn’t know her secret. But their stares crawled across her skin like theydid.
