The final bell was a release, but the walk home felt different. The usual, easy rhythm between Martin, Jennifer, and Caleb was strained, filled with words unsaid and worries unvoiced. They moved as a trio out of the school gates, a silent pact of companionship against the unsettling quiet that had settled over them.

  As they turned onto the main sidewalk, Jennifer spotted a familiar figure ahead. Ava. She wasn’t alone. Walking beside her, a few paces ahead as if trying to create distance, was a lanky, nervous-looking boy with glasses, his shoulders hunched against the world.

  “Isn’t that… the girl from Friday?” Jennifer asked, nudging Martin. “The one with the warm welcome? Ava?”

  As if hearing her name, Ava glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes met theirs for a split second—cold, assessing—before she quickly faced forward again. She hurried her pace to close the gap with the boy, who hadn’t seemed to notice at all.

  Caleb watched them, his analytical gaze missing nothing. “Doesn’t seem like her type,” he mused, his voice flat. “You think she’s into that? Or is that a charity case?”

  “That,” Martin said, his eyes still on Ava’s retreating back, “is probably the guy she was talking about.”

  Jennifer frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Her ultimatum. She wants me to give up my scholarship. Thinks her ‘friend’ needs it more than I do.”

  “But that’s not how it works,” Jennifer protested, logic cutting through the tension. “The scholarship is for the top two entrance exam scores. If her friend wasn’t in the top two, he doesn’t get it. Unless…” Her eyes widened as she followed the thread. “Unless one of the top two leaves. Then the spot opens up.”

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  Martin nodded, a humorless twist to his mouth. “Exactly. So, if I ‘decide’ to leave this term, the school might just hand it to the next in line. Third place. At least, that’s what she’s betting on.”

  “That’s incredibly selfish,” Jennifer breathed.

  Caleb snorted. “If daddy’s wallet is the problem, she should just use that. Rumor has it her dad is the wallet. City Manager Mioro.”

  “The City Manager’s daughter goes to our school?” Jennifer’s eyebrows shot up. “And she’s a…?”

  “Bully. Unfortunately.” Caleb’s expression was grim. “If she escalates, we could always use that. A little reputation blackmail.”

  Jennifer shot him a look. “That would never work. That’s like poking the government with a stick. Right, Marty?”

  But Martin had already started walking again, heading toward their neighborhood. “I don’t care about any of that,” he said, his voice carrying a forced lightness. “I know I can’t get bullied by a girl. I’d just… you know. Beat her up.” He mimed a weak, playful punch at the air.

  Jennifer caught up to him, a real smile touching her lips for the first time that day. “You only think that because I’ve never bullied you.”

  He stopped and looked at her, a flicker of his old challenge in his eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

  With a yelp of laughter, she shoved his shoulder. He feigned a stumble, then took off at a jog, Jennifer giving chase with mock ferocity down the sidewalk.

  “Hey!” Caleb called after them, his stern voice failing to hide a hint of amusement. “No flirting in the streets! Public decency!”

  They reached the familiar corner where their paths usually diverged, breathless from the brief, normal sprint. Martin bent over, hands on his knees, panting. “I’m grabbing a drink. You guys want anything?”

  “Sure,” Jennifer said, still grinning.

  “Yeah,” Caleb grunted.

  “Back in a sec.” Martin ducked into the corner convenience store, the bell jingling overhead.

  The moment the door closed behind him, the fragile normalcy shattered. Jennifer’s smile vanished. She wrapped her arms around herself, watching the storefront. “K,” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “Do you think… if I told him. How I feel. Do you think it would help? Maybe even… I don’t know, cheer him up? Make him want to fight harder?” The last part was a desperate, superstitious hope.

  Caleb considered her, his dark eyes unreadable. “Whether it helps or not depends on his answer. Not your intention.” He paused. “So. Do you want to try?”

  She took a shaky breath. “Yeah. I think I do.”

  “Okay then.” Caleb shouldered his bag. “I’ll head home. Give you space.”

  “What?” Jennifer whirled on him. “No! I didn’t mean today! I need time to… to prepare!”

  “You’ve had years to prepare,” he said, already turning to leave. “Don’t worry. You’ve got this.” He took a few steps, then looked back over his shoulder, his expression deadly serious. “And if he rejects you? Just let me know. I wouldn’t care if he’s sick.”

  Before she could protest further, he was gone, disappearing down the side street with his usual, abrupt finality. Jennifer was left alone on the sidewalk, her heart hammering against her ribs, staring at the convenience store door as if it were the gate to her own execution.