I heard my name before I saw anything else soft, almost hesitant, floating through the classroom air like it didn't want to disturb anyone.
"Coming, Ms. Johnson," I said quickly, pushing the door open the rest of the way.
As I stepped inside, my eyes flicked up instinctively and landed on Kentrell standing at the teacher's desk.
Too close.
Too stiff.
Too obvious.
His shoulders were tight, his hands half-curled like he'd been caught mid-thought. Ms. Johnson looked mildly amused, one eyebrow raised, the blue marker paused in her fingers.
Oh.
Understanding settled in my chest slowly, warmly.
He stalled her.
As I brushed past him, I felt the faintest rush of air, and when his arm twitched like he wasn't sure whether to move or not, I almost smiled. He didn't look at me not right away but the tension in him eased the second I passed.
I took my seat, pulling my notebook from my bag, unrolling my pencils with careful precision. It was easier to focus on something neat, something controlled, than the sudden flutter behind my ribs.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ms. Johnson finish her conversation with him. Kentrell nodded quickly, murmured something probably an apology for existing and retreated to his seat like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn't just saved me from being marked tardy.
When he turned, his eyes flicked toward me fast, unsure and darted away just as quickly.
Cute, I thought, then immediately frowned at myself for thinking it.
Joe leaned over toward him, saying something I couldn't hear, and Kentrell shook his head slightly, clearly uninterested. But then just for a second his gaze shifted past Joe.
Straight to me.
I pretended to rummage through my pencil case, brow furrowed like I was searching for something important. In reality, I could feel his attention like a quiet hum, not demanding, not loud just there.
The teacher's voice filled the room as she prepared to start class.
I sat up straighter, ready.
That's when Ten's voice cut through the air like it had something to prove.
"Ms. Johnson, Portia's name is on the board by mistake, right?"
My stomach dipped.
I looked up.
There it was. My name. Big. Blue. Unavoidable.
Before I could say anything, I felt it Kentrell straightening in his seat. I didn't have to look to know his jaw had tightened, his attention fully locked in now.
"Yes, Benjamin," Ms. Johnson said calmly, "her name is on the board, but not by mistake. Portia will be our classroom board cleaner. At the end of each day, before the final bell, she'll clean both boards."
Oh.
That was not what I expected.
I exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing. And when I finally glanced sideways, I caught Kentrell leaning back in his chair, relief written all over him like he'd been holding his breath for me.
Our eyes met.
I raised an eyebrow, just slightly.
Really?
His ears turned red immediately.
I smirked and mouthed, Thank you.
He blinked. Once. Twice. Then shook his head faintly, like he hadn't done anything worth acknowledging.
But the small smile he tried and failed to hide?
That told me everything.
