She paused.
"That is gross thing to say"
Looked up.
Saw Ava's glare.
" Sorry so back to what I was saying we should be close as glue and share everything". Luna said as she read from the phone again
"Yeah, I'm not saying that bullshit."
She locked her phone.
"Listen. We can be friends—but with boundaries. Got it?"
Silence.
Then Ava walked in behind her like she owned the place.
"She's crazy," Ava said calmly. "Please take care of her."
And just like that—
she started placing drinks and snacks on each student's table.
One by one.
No rush.
No expression.
Until she passed Ella's table.
And her friend's.
Without stopping.
Without looking.
The air shifted.
Then she reached Felix and Matthew's table.
Luna dumped the remaining bag on Felix's desk.
"Share it with your friends," she said. "It's a bribe. Speak nicely about my friend to Matthew. Got it?"
"Yes ma—ohh, goodies!" Felix said instantly, already opening the bag.
Then he froze.
"…Wait. You even got the new trending drink and snacks?" His eyes widened. "I heard they're always sold out!"
"Wait, really? Give me one!" Luna said immediately, reaching for the bag.
Felix snapped it shut.
"Hell no!"
"Felix—!"
"Give it back!"
"Share it!" someone shouted from the back.
Soon the whole class joined in.
"Share it!"
"Don't be stingy!"
A full argument broke out around Felix's desk.
Ava rolled her eyes.
Then calmly placed one bottle of the newest product from that brand they were arguing about a grape flavor on Matthew's table.
"I got you grape," she said casually.
"Matches your attitude. Sour but this one is sweet cause I think you are."
Matthew didn't even look at the drink.
"I told you," he said camly, "I don't want anything to do with you. Do you not understand?"
Ava blinked.
"Behave," Ava said lightly, leaning on his desk. "Stop rejecting me, okay? Be a good boy. I'm not leaving anytime soon. I just want to be friends… not like I want to grab your ass or something."
Matthew blinked once.
Then leaned back lazily in his chair.
"You just said your perverted thoughts out loud," he said flatly.
Ava gasped softly. "Oops."
Then she tilted her head, completely shameless.
"But it is soft though," she added thoughtfully. "When I was kicking it earlier… it felt smooth. And bouncy. You have a bouncy butt—"
Matthew grabbed his book.
Ava's eyes widened.
"Hey—!"
He swung.
She dodged instantly and bolted out of the classroom, laughing as she ran.
Matthew lowered the book slowly, exhaling through his nose.
"…Unbelievable."
Luna walked back to her seat, already sipping from the drink she had successfully stolen from Felix.
Felix was still arguing with a few classmates, protecting the rest of his stash like his life depended on it.
Meanwhile
Matthew reached for the grape drink Ava had left on his table.
But just before opening it, something outside the classroom caught his attention.
Ava.
She was standing by the corridor, laughing.
Someone had his arm casually around her shoulder as they talked.
Matthew's eyes narrowed slightly.
Jake.
The two of them walked off together, still talking, still laughing like nothing mattered.
Matthew stared for a second longer than necessary.
Then he looked away Picked up the drink.
And without hesitation
tossed it onto Felix's table.
"Take it," he said calmly. "I don't like that brand."
Felix blinked, stunned.
"…Wait—really?"
Before he could react—
Philip walked over, grabbed the drink without a word, opened it, and took a sip.
"Go back to studying," Philip said casually, already walking back to his seat.
Felix froze.
Then snapped.
"Damn it—Philip, you bastard!"
The class burst into laughter.
Matthew, however, had already opened his notebook, his expression calm as ever—
like nothing had happened at all.
"Today is another practice…" Felix groaned, dragging his chair back with one leg and slumping into it like his bones had dissolved.
He tore open a snack with his teeth, crumbs already falling on his uniform. "I'm already tired. I can't even feel my bones anymore."
Across from him, Matthew didn't even look up, flipping a page calmly.
Felix leaned forward, squinting at him like he was some kind of alien specimen.
"Seriously, how do you even do it? Everyone is doing two clubs, maybe three if they're crazy. And then there's you and other who do four ."
He started counting on his fingers, crumbs still stuck to them.
"Tuesday—basketball. Wednesday—brainiac club. Today…" he paused, narrowing his eyes. "Drama? Dance? Don't tell me it's both."
"Dance," Matthew replied, voice flat, pen still moving across his notebook.
Felix let out a low whistle.
"Of course. So today all the girls are going to faint again."
Behind them, a group of girls were already whispering, glancing at Matthew, one pretending to drop her pen just to look again.
Felix leaned back, kicking lightly against Matthew's chair.
"Remember—any gifts you get, pass them to me. Don't waste them like yesterday."
"Sure," Matthew said absentmindedly.
Felix squinted.
"…You're definitely lying."
Hours dragged on.
Chairs scraped. Teachers talked. Someone in the back snored and got hit with a book. Papers passed around. A boy tried to cheat and got caught mid-glance. The class felt alive, messy, loud.
Then finally—
Freedom.
"Practice time!"
Chairs screeched back all at once as students flooded out of the classroom like water breaking through a dam.
Cooking Club.
The room was already buzzing—students arguing over ingredients, someone already eating before anything was cooked, the faint smell of onions and oil in the air.
Jane and Jordan walked in side by side.
Jane paused at the door, scanning the room
then smirked.
"Well, if it isn't tree girl," she said, walking toward Ava.
Ava didn't even look up.
She was tying her apron slowly, fingers steady, expression… unusually focused.
Jordan blinked, genuinely surprised.
"Wow. Ava being serious? I never thought I'd see the day."
Jane said, who is now leaning against a counter, snorted.
"You forgot? Ava and cooking are enemies. Either she burns the food, sets the kitchen on fire… or whatever she makes looks like it went through ten laboratory experiments."
Jordan chuckled,
Ava rolled her eyes, finally glancing at them.
"You do realize I'm standing right here, right?"
"That's why we're saying it in front of you," Jane said innocently, shrugging.
"Don't worry," Jordan added, grabbing an apron and casually helped jane put on her apron. "We've got the fire extinguisher ready this time."
He leaned his elbow lightly on Ava's shoulder.
Ava immediately shoved him off.
"Fuck off."
She tightened her apron, rolled up her sleeves with a sharp motion, and tied her hair back loosely, a few red strands still falling around her face.
Right on cue—
the teacher walked in.
"Alright everyone," she clapped her hands, trying to get control of the noise. "First day, so we'll start simple. Basic knife handling and kitchen tools."
Groans. Complaints. Someone dropped a carrot.
Students gathered around, picking up knives, some already swinging them around like they were in an action movie.
Ava stepped forward when it was her turn.
She picked up the knife.
Balanced it once in her hand.
Swung it
whoosh—
The knife slipped.
Shot straight up.
And—
thunk.
Lodged into the ceiling.
The entire class froze.
Silence.
A boy slowly tilted his head up.
"…Is that supposed to happen?"
Jordan turned away, coughing into his hand, shoulders shaking as he tried not to laugh.
The teacher blinked.
Then forced a smile.
"…Everyone makes mistakes. Let's try again."
Ava picked up another knife.
Swung it.
whoosh—
thunk.
Another one.
Straight into the ceiling.
This time, a girl actually ducked.
"Okay—!" the teacher clapped louder, her smile twitching. "Let's… try again."
Third knife.
Same result.
Now the ceiling looked like a knife display.
"I think the knives have a problem," Ava said, staring up.
"Darling," Jane leaned in slightly, whispering, "you're the problem."
Jordan lost it.
He burst out laughing, bending over the counter.
The teacher's eye twitched.
"Alright!" she said quickly. "Let's move on. Blenders."
Students lined up again.
Buttons pressed.
Blades whirred.
Smooth.
Normal.
Then—
Ava's turn.
She pressed the button.
Nothing.
She pressed again.
Still nothing.
She switched to another blender.
Pressed.
Dead.
Another one.
Nothing.
Another.
Nothing.
Around her, blenders were working perfectly fine.
Ava stared at it.
Pressed harder.
Still nothing.
The room slowly went quiet again.
A boy leaned toward his friend.
"…Is she cursed?"
"Damn it—what is wrong with this equipment?" Ava snapped, hitting the blender lightly, her patience already gone.
The teacher stood there, staring at the row of dead blenders in front of Ava…
then at the perfectly working ones everywhere else.
Her smile was gone now.
Completely.
Jordan leaned toward Jane, whispering with a grin,
"At this point, we should evacuate the kitchen."
Jane smirked.
"Too late. Disaster already arrived."
And Ava?
She was this close to declaring war on kitchen appliances.
Meanwhile in the dance everyone was waiting for the ballet dancers to finish first some galncing at Matthew both giriand boys
The dance hall wasn't quiet—it was alive.
Music thumped low from the speakers, not loud enough to dominate, but enough to sit under conversations like a pulse.
The polished wooden floor reflected the overhead lights, catching flashes of movement—spins, jumps, stretching limbs. Groups were scattered everywhere. Some rehearsing seriously. Some pretending to.
Some just watching like it was free entertainment.
At the far end, the ballet group held everyone's attention.
Sophia stood at the center.
Her body moved like she had no weight—rising on pointe, turning slowly, arms unfolding like silk in the air.
The other dancers followed her rhythm, but it was obvious who the center was. When she leaped, it wasn't rushed—it was controlled, graceful, like she already knew where she would land before she even left the ground.
A soft murmur spread across the room.
"Damn…"
"She's good…"
"She always is…"
Even those who weren't interested found themselves watching.
Near the wall, Matthew leaned lazily against it, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding his phone.
The music cut.
Applause broke out.
Sophia lowered her arms, breathing lightly, not even out of breath. She turned—her gaze landing exactly where she wanted.
On him.
She walked toward Matthew, steps calm, measured. Not rushing. Not hesitant. Just confident enough to draw attention without begging for it.
Matthew didn't look up immediately.
He finished whatever he was reading first calm eyes neutral.
Then—slowly—he slid his phone into his pocket.
Sophia stopped in front of him, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Last brain maniac practice, I didn't come," she said softly, tilting her head slightly. "I wasn't feeling well."
Matthew gave a small nod as a sign of acknowledgement.
"If it's not too much," she continued, smiling lightly, "can I borrow your notes?"
Matthew tilted his head slightly, like he was thinking—though it didn't look like it took effort.
"Yeah, sure but I want it back like I gave you no stain no nothing."
Sophia's smile widened just a little.
"Thank you."
She shifted her weight, glancing toward the registration desk, then back at him.
"You're here for dance practice, right? You still have to register your categories."
She gestured lightly with her fingers, pointing toward the clipboard on the table nearby.
"I signed for ballet, modern day, and tap dance. If you want, I can help you register—since you're helping me."
Matthew pushed himself off the wall, straightening slightly.
"Pop and hip-hop."
Like he didn't feel the need to explain.
Sophia blinked once—just a fraction surprised—then smiled again.
"Alright, that suits you—"
"Then add belly dance for me too."
A voice cut in.
Luna.
She didn't walk quietly—she slid into the space, hands in her jacket pockets, gum shifting lazily in her mouth. Her eyes flicked between them, amused.
"Sigh… cheerleading wasn't enough torture, apparently," she muttered, then looked straight at Sophia. "So we also have to take dance classes so pop, hip-hop, and belly dance. Same as him almost. Save me the stress."
Sophia's smile didn't drop.
But it changed.
Subtly.
"I don't recall asking if you needed help," she said calmly.
Luna tilted her head, unimpressed.
"And I don't recall caring."
A few nearby students went quiet, pretending not to listen—but listening harder.
Sophia exhaled softly through her nose, then smiled again—gentler this time, almost like she was being patient with a child.
"But I'll help you anyway," she said. "Since I know you won't let it go."
Her eyes lingered for half a second.
"You and Ava really enjoy making scenes."
Luna let out a short laugh.
"Sure, mommy."
The word dropped sweet and sharp at the same time.
Sophia didn't react.
She simply turned and walked toward the registration table.
Luna watched her go, then clicked her tongue under her breath.
"Annoying."
She glanced sideways at Matthew before walking away.
When the practice was over, the noise in the hall didn't die down—it shifted.
Whispers spread in ripples, low at first, then louder, circling around one person.
Matthew.
Everywhere he moved, eyes followed.
The girls were especially obvious, barely even trying to hide it. Some clutched their phones to their chests, others leaned into their friends, whispering excitedly. If this were an anime, their eyes would have turned into stars and hearts already.
Even the guys weren't any better—some clicked their tongues, others looked away with forced indifference, envy written all over their faces.
Once again, Matthew's popularity skyrocketed.
On the school page, his dance video had already climbed to number one, ruthlessly pushing Ava's video—her stuck in a tree—to second place.
Students huddled in small groups, replaying the clip, arguing, laughing, pointing at the screen.
Matthew ignored all of it.
When he stepped out of the guys' changing room in a clean uniform, his expression was as calm and unreadable as ever, sleeves neat, collar straight.
Then he saw her.
Ava.
Waiting.
He froze—just for a second. So brief it could've been missed.
Then he turned and walked in the opposite direction like he hadn't seen her at all.
Calm.
Controlled.
Ava's eyes lit up.
She pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning on and jogged after him, her steps light but quick.
"Wow, Matthew," she said as she caught up, slightly breathless but smiling brightly. "I didn't know you could dance. Damn… handsome. You're my male god."
She placed both hands against her chest, forming a heart shape, tilting her head as she looked at him.
Matthew stopped.
Slowly.
He turned his head just enough to glance at her, his gaze lazy, almost bored.
"What do you want, Ava?"
Ava blinked, then pouted immediately, her brows knitting slightly as if wronged.
"Why are you angry at me again?" she said, her tone soft, teasing. "Are you on your period? You've been having mood swings lately. Why are you mad again?"
As she spoke, she reached out and held onto his sleeve, her fingers curling into the fabric as she swayed slightly closer to him.
Matthew subconsciously swallowed.
His jaw tightened for a split second before smoothing out again.
Damn it.
He cursed inwardly.
Normally, once he made up his mind about something, it was nearly impossible for him to go back on it.
Yet—
His grip on his own control felt… thinner.
It must be that damn symptom acting up.
His face, however, betrayed nothing.
Still calm.
Still distant.
"Ava," he said evenly, his voice low, controlled. "I'll say this again. I don't know what stupid game you're playing, but end it right now. It's annoying."
He reached out and grabbed both of her hands that were holding his sleeve, pulling them away firmly. Then he leaned slightly closer, his height casting a shadow over her.
"I don't like you. I never will. Get it?"
Ava frowned—not dramatically, just a small crease between her brows.
Her gaze dropped to the hands holding hers.
Then she looked back up at him.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then—
Before he could fully straighten up, she slipped her hands free with a quick twist.
In the next second, everything flipped.
She grabbed his tie.
Pulled.
Matthew's back hit the wall with a dull sound.
Ava stepped in, dragging him down slightly by the tie, forcing him to meet her eye level. The fabric tightened just enough to make it impossible to ignore her.
Her head tilted slowly, her eyes roaming over his face—studying, almost amused—before finally locking onto his.
She smiled.
"Since when did I ask for your permission?" she said softly.
Her finger tapped against his chest once, light but deliberate, while her other hand still held his tie firmly.
"You're really a stubborn thing, aren't you?"
Matthew didn't move.
Didn't resist.
His back rested against the wall, one hand loosely at his side, the other brushing against his pocket, his breathing steady
but his eyes sharper now, watching her.
"It may seem like I'm giving you a choice," Ava continued, her voice gentle, almost sweet. "But I'm not."
She leaned in just a little closer.
"At the end of the day, your answer is always going to be yes ."
A small pause.
Her smile widened, playful, dangerous.
"Or yes."
She released his tie.
The tension snapped instantly.
Ava stepped back as if nothing had happened, smoothing her hair and straightening her uniform, her expression shifting seamlessly into something charming and harmless.
Like she hadn't just pinned him to a wall seconds ago.
Then, without hesitation, she leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Soft.
Light.
Gone in a second.