𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒

The First Wall Cracks

"I like you," he says, his voice firm yet unsettling.

I blink at him, stunned by his audacity. My mind races. He doesn't even know me. My pulse quickens, and all I want to do is leave—run as far away from him as I can.

He keeps talking, pleading for me to give him a chance, refusing to take no for an answer. His persistence isn't flattering; it's suffocating. I glance at Mia, and the concern etched on her face mirrors my own feelings.

"No," I say firmly, crossing my arms and stepping back. But he doesn't stop. He keeps pleading, his voice desperate, and I feel like the world around me is spinning too fast. My chest tightens, and all I can think about is getting away from him.

"Tate, we're getting late for class!" Mia's voice cuts through the chaos, jolting me back to reality, & I know it's a sign for me to run.

Without another word, I turn and run toward her, my legs moving before my mind can catch up. I throw my arms around her the moment I reach her, holding on tightly as tears stream down my face. She doesn't need an explanation; she understands immediately.

"Tate," she says softly, patting my back. "It's okay. You're okay."

But when I pull away from the hug, I see Mia's expression shift. Her eyes narrow, focusing on something behind me.

I whip around, and there he is—standing a few feet away, watching us like he has every right to. My breath hitches, and my stomach churns.

"We need to go," I whisper, my voice shaking.

Mia nods, and we hurry inside, Abby joining us as we head toward the lab. My legs feel like jelly, and I'm barely holding it together as we enter the classroom.

The lab is a whirlwind of noise and motion, but I can't focus on anything. My hands shake as I try to assemble the equipment for our experiment. Mia notices, of course, and after a few minutes, she gently takes over, leaving me to sit on the stool, my head resting on Abby's shoulder.

I close my eyes, trying to push the wild thoughts aside, but it's no use. The image of him standing there, watching us, is burned into my mind.

"I can't believe he followed us here," Abby whispers suddenly, snapping me out of my daze.

"What?" I sit up, my heart pounding.

Abby gestures toward the window. "I saw him outside. He's still there."

Mia stiffens, her jaw tightening. "That's it," she says, her voice low but determined.

"What are you doing?" I ask, alarmed, as she grabs her phone and walks away from our table.

"I'm going to fix this," she says over her shoulder.

I watch helplessly as she approaches Tarren's group on the other side of the lab. My stomach sinks. No, no, no. Not him.

Anybody him.

Tarren's reputation precedes him. He's the guy everyone knows—the former basketball captain with a sharp wit and a knack for getting what he wants. He's charming, infuriatingly confident, and the last person I'd ever want to owe a favor.

But Mia doesn't care about my reservations. She taps him on the shoulder, and he turns to face her, his easygoing expression fading as she explains the situation.

I can't hear their conversation, but I see the way his jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listens. When Mia finishes, he nods once, his gaze flicking over to me. I immediately look away, my cheeks burning.

Mia returns a few moments later, looking triumphant.

"What did you do?" I demand, my voice low and sharp.

"I asked Tarren for help," she says simply, like it's the most logical thing in the world.

"You what?"

"Why would you do that?"

"Tae, we need someone who can handle this, and Tarren is perfect for the job. He'll make sure that guy leaves you alone."

I shake my head, my frustration bubbling over. "I don't need his help, Mia. I can handle this myself."

Mia crosses her arms, giving me a pointed look. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, you're not handling it at all."

Her words sting, but I know she's right. My shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine. But I don't like it," I mutter.

"Noted," she says, a small smile playing on her lips.

The rest of the lab passes in a blur. I barely register what's happening around me, my mind too preoccupied with the thought of Tristan knowing about my predicament.

When the class finally ends, Mia grabs my arm, stopping me before I can leave. "Wait," she says.

A moment later, Tarren appears, his tall frame cutting through the crowd effortlessly. His gaze locks onto mine, and I feel a mix of embarrassment and relief.

"Let's go," he says, his tone firm but not unkind, His friends joining him too.

I guess everybody knows now, thanks Mia

I open my mouth to protest, but Mia nudges me forward. "He's walking with us," she says, leaving no room for argument.

Tarren doesn't say much as we walk through the campus, his presence commanding without being overbearing. Students glance our way, some whispering, but he seems completely unbothered.

When we reach the main gate, I think we're finally safe. But then I see him—standing just a few meters away, his eyes locked on me.

Tarren notices him immediately. His relaxed demeanor shifts, his posture straightening as his eyes darken.

"Stay here," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Tarren, don't—" I start, but he's already walking toward the guy, his steps purposeful and confident.

I watch, my heart pounding, as Tarren stops in front of him. Their conversation is too quiet for me to hear, but the guy's body language speaks volumes. His shoulders tense, his hands fidgeting nervously. Tristan, on the other hand, remains calm, his presence almost overwhelming.

After a tense few moments, the guy finally turns and walks away, his head hanging low.

Tarren
returns to us, his expression unreadable. "He won't bother you again," he says simply, as though it was the easiest thing in the world.

For the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe again.

"Thank you," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugs, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. "Don't mention it."

But as we walk away, I can't help but wonder: why would he even do that.