CHAPTER 182: KIERA’S HARD TIME [2]

I cleared my throat, still feeling the echo of Ryen’s laughter ringing in my ears.

"Anyway, joke’s on you. I’ve already got plans for lunch."

That shut them up for a second—Leona raised an eyebrow, and Ryen tilted his head like a dog hearing a weird sound.

But it was Kiera who reacted first.

"...What?"

Her voice was quiet. Flat. But in that one word, I could feel the temperature in the room dip slightly.

I glanced at her.

Kiera was standing just a step behind Ryen and Leona now, arms still crossed, her eyes not quite meeting mine. Her posture stiffened, like she’d been caught off guard and didn’t know how to play it off.

"You what?" she asked again, sharper this time.

"I... have plans," I repeated, slower now. "It’s not a big deal. Just something I agreed to earlier."

Her eyes narrowed.

"With who?"

There was an edge to her tone now—not jealous exactly, but more like irritated confusion, like she couldn’t quite figure out if I was messing with her or if she’d just misread something.

Ryen took a small step back, sensing the tension. Leona, for once, didn’t look like she was going to make a joke. She gave me a subtle you’re-on-your-own glance and pretended to scroll through her phone.

Kiera kept staring.

"Well?" she said. "You’re not gonna answer?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "It’s not really important. Just... something I promised someone."

"That someone better not be a girl."

I blinked. "What?"

"I said—" she took a small step forward, eyes flashing "—if you’re gonna turn down my lunch because some other girl invited you out, I want to know who."

Oh.

So that’s where we were now.

The lunchbox sat heavy in my bag. A bandaged hand. A muttered "don’t make it weird." A scowl to hide something softer.

And now this.

I sighed. "It’s not like that, okay? It’s not a date or anything. I just said I’d meet someone."

Kiera didn’t respond right away. Her expression flickered for a moment, like she was sorting through things she wanted to say and throwing half of them out before they reached her mouth.

"...Whatever," she muttered finally, turning away. "Eat it or don’t. I don’t care."

But she did.

I could see it in the way she clenched her fists, in how she bit the inside of her cheek. Kiera didn’t do subtle very well—her feelings leaked out through cracks in her armor whether she wanted them to or not.

And I felt guilty again. For not saying something sooner. For not thinking this would matter.

"Hey," I said gently.

She didn’t look at me.

"Thanks for making it. I mean it."

"...It’s just food," she mumbled.

"No, it’s not," I said. "Not when you made it."

Her head tilted slightly, just enough for me to catch the way her ears went red again. She scowled harder, but her voice dropped.

"Don’t say stuff like that."

"Why not?"

"Because it sounds like you’re flirting."

Leona snorted in the background.

"I am flirting," I said before I could stop myself.

’I am not flirting with for real. I am just trying to tease her like Leona and Ryen did with me.’

Kiera blinked.

Then her face turned a shade of pink I didn’t know she was capable of.

"You—!"

I took a careful step back, holding up both hands. "I mean—I wasn’t trying to—but also not not trying to—wait, I’m making this worse."

"You absolute idiot," she snapped, flustered. "I hope it gives you food poisoning!"

I laughed, even though I knew I was pushing my luck.

"You’re the one who made it," I said. "If anyone’s gonna suffer, it’s you—reputation-wise."

"Eat it. Or don’t. I’m done here."

She spun on her heel and stormed off.

I stood there for a moment, stunned, heart thumping a little faster than it should’ve.

Leona came up beside me, nudging my ribs with her elbow.

"...That was intresting," she said.

"I think I just ruined her entire day," I muttered.

"Maybe," Ryen added, "but you also made it interesting."

I groaned. "That doesn’t help."

They laughed again, and even though I was pretty sure Kiera was plotting my slow, painful demise... I smiled.

Because for once, being part of this sweet, chaotic, painfully embarrassing youth drama didn’t feel like a punishment.

----

Kiera’s POV:

What the hell was that?

Kiera marched down the hallway, face burning and fists still clenched at her sides. She didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to move

, had to put distance between herself and him and that stupid grin he wore like this was all some kind of joke.

It wasn’t.

He really said it. "I am flirting." Just like that. Like it was funny. Like it didn’t mean anything.

And maybe it didn’t—to him.

But to her?

Her heart had practically jumped into her throat. She’d spent the entire night before making that damn lunch, replaying his dumb, confused expression from when she handed over the bandage, telling herself it didn’t matter. That it was just food. That she wasn’t expecting anything.

Liar.

She had expected something—maybe a smile, maybe a simple thank you, maybe a tiny shift in the way he looked at her. Something small. Quiet. Easy to brush off.

Not... that.

Not flirting. Not in front of Leona and Ryen, who were probably snickering behind her back right now, probably already crafting new jokes at her expense.

And what had she even said? "That someone better not be a girl."

Ugh.

She groaned and leaned her forehead against the cool metal of a locker, hoping it would absorb the heat radiating from her face. What was she even doing? She didn’t talk like that. She didn’t care like that. That wasn’t supposed to slip out.

Except it did.

And now she looked like some jealous, petty idiot who couldn’t handle the thought of him eating lunch with anyone else.

Which—okay, maybe she couldn’t, but she wasn’t ready to say that out loud.

She exhaled slowly, trying to reel it all back in.

It didn’t matter. It was one stupid lunch. He said it wasn’t a date. He even thanked her. Kind of. In that dorky, awkward, infuriatingly sincere way of his.

"Idiot," she muttered again under her breath.

But as she stood there, trying to cool off both her face and her heart, a part of her—quiet and soft and traitorous—wondered what he would’ve said if she hadn’t stormed off.