Nami and I turned toward the classroom, our steps syncing up. The hallway buzzed—scattered voices, laughter bouncing off the walls. But my mind was stuck, replaying Arin's quiet words, the way he'd walked off like it was nothing.
I glanced at Nami, wondering if she'd caught the storm churning inside me. She just walked, lost in her own head. With a quiet sigh, I shoved it down. For now.
The classroom hummed with chatter as students settled in. I was about to drop my books when I noticed Suhina near a knot of classmates, her voice too loud, her laugh brittle.
Nami nudged me. "Something's up. Suhina looks like she's plotting."
I flicked my eyes over. Suhina met my gaze, smirked, then turned back to her group. Unease prickled my chest, but I brushed it off. Overthinking again.
I'd barely sat when Suhina's voice rang out, sharp and deliberate.
"Aira!"
I froze, hands fisting under the desk. The room hushed, her tone rippling through like a warning. Slowly, I looked up.
She stood center-stage, holding that folded note aloft. My stomach sank.
"I think you forgot something," she said, voice dripping with fake sweetness.
Murmurs spread. Eyes locked on us, hungry for drama.
I kept my face blank. "What is that?"
Suhina unfolded it with a flourish, her smirk glinting as her gaze darted to Arin—then back to me.
"'Try to focus next time. You're making it too obvious.'"
She paused, letting it hang. "Wow, Aira. Are you really that desperate for attention?"
Laughter broke out—some snickering, some just watching. My jaw tightened, heat creeping up my neck.
"What's your problem, Suhina?" I bit out.
She shrugged, casual but cutting. "Just think it's funny. You thought Arin was paying attention to you? He barely looks at people unless he has to."
The sting sank in, but I locked it down.
Nami stepped up. "Suhina, don't you have anything better to do?"
"I'm just telling the truth," Suhina said, light but laced with something possessive, her eyes narrowing.
Then Arin moved.
A soft sigh slipped out—barely audible, a muttered "pathetic" under his breath—as he grabbed his bag and walked out, not sparing a glance.
Confusion rippled through the room. Suhina's smugness cracked, her mouth twitching.
Nami smirked. "Wow, Suhina. You embarrassed Aira, and all you got was Arin walking away like you're invisible."
The laughter flipped—now at Suhina. Her face hardened, but she forced a chuckle. "Whatever. Believe what you want," she muttered, slumping into her seat, suddenly bored.
I exhaled, tension coiling tight in my chest. I didn't know what I'd expected, but Arin bailing like that? It twisted the knife.
Suhina's true colors had bled out today. I glanced out the window—the barren tree stood still, branches rigid. Neither of us bends, do we?
But somehow, I knew this wasn't over.