"Partner projects should challenge you," Mr. Williams announced, tapping a thick stack of assignment sheets on his desk. "That means you don't get to choose who you work with."
A collective groan rippled through the art class.
Vale sat perfectly still, her fingers brushing the edge of her sketchbook. Hanisha glanced at her, then at the list in Mr. Williams' hands.
"Watch you get paired with a chaos gremlin," Hanisha whispered.
Vale smirked. "Like you?"
"I'm the fun kind of gremlin."
Mr. Williams began reading out names, letting chaos unfold row by row. It wasn't until he hit the V's and A's that Vale tensed.
"Vale Black... and... Kian Adams."
For a moment, the classroom went weirdly quiet. Then a few murmured reactions—surprised, amused, even a fake gasp from Stella.
Kian looked up from where he sat across the room, one brow lifted.Mr. Williams gave no one the chance to protest. "You'll be working together on a mixed-media piece. Theme: Duality. Due in three weeks. Class time and homework effort both expected."
Hanisha leaned in with a low whistle. "Plot twist."
Vale said nothing. She just closed her sketchbook with a soft snap.
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Later, she found herself walking beside Kian down the quiet hall toward the art wing's supply room. They hadn't spoken since they were paired—just a nod, maybe half a glance.
"So," he said finally, not looking at her. "You draw, huh?"
"Sometimes," Vale said coolly.
"I saw your sketch in class. The car."
She glanced at him. "You were watching?"
He shrugged. "I notice things."
Vale didn't reply, but a flicker of something shifted behind her eyes. He noticed it too.
They reached the supply room. Vale pushed the door open and flicked on the light. Dust floated lazily in the air, golden in the late-afternoon sun slanting through the tiny window.
"'Duality' is a terrible theme," she said, reaching for a box of charcoal pencils.
Kian leaned against the doorway. "Why? You seem like someone with two sides."
Vale froze—just briefly—before she turned around with a perfectly calm expression.
"You don't know me."
"Not yet," he said, casually. "But I think I'd like to."
She didn't answer. Just handed him a sketchpad, eyes unreadable now.
Maybe she wasn't the only one wearing a mask.
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