The End. (Part 1)

Chapter 3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was difficult maintaining my nerves as my mind raced. Jane was relentless, and if she caught us together, she'd use it against me. I had to think fast. My fingers tightened on the fabric of Charles's sweatshirt, and I pulled him closer, our bodies pressed against each other. His warmth enveloped me, and for a moment, I forgot about Jane, about everything except the proximity of his chest against mine.

"Play along," I whispered urgently. "let's put on a show for Jane maybe she'll back off."

His eyes widened, and I could see the gears turning in his head. He was smart, quick-witted, but this situation was unexpected. His hand braced against the lockers, and I could feel the tension in his muscles. We were so close with less than an inch between us, the hallway seemed to shrink around us.

Jane's gaze locking onto us. Her smirk was wicked, and I knew she'd relish this moment. But I wasn't going down without a fight. Time to change this narrative I leaned up, my lips brushing against Charles's ear, and whispered, "Kiss me."

His surprise was evident, but he didn't hesitate. His lips met mine, and the world blurred. It was a desperate, impulsive kiss—a collision of secrets and survival. Jane's footsteps faltered, and I could practically taste her shock.

When we finally pulled away, Charles's expression was a mix of confusion and something else—something I couldn't quite place. But Jane was gone, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

The hallway settled into an uneasy calm after Jane's departure. Charles and I exchanged a glance, our breaths still mingling from that impulsive kiss. It was a dangerous game we were playing—one that could unravel our carefully constructed facades.

"Melissa," Charles said, his voice low.

Stopping him I responded "I know. that was an impulsive move"

I grasped his hand as I pulled us both in an empty classroom near by, closing the door behind us. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows on the walls. Charles leaned against a desk his eyes bore into mine, and I wondered what he was going to say.

I whipped my clammy palms against my jeans once again in an attempt to calm my nerves and distract myself from the bubbling tension.

"Melissa," he said, his voice a mere whisper, "why did you really kiss me?"

I hesitated, torn between truth and deception. "Jane," I replied, my heartbeat echoing in the silence. "She's relentless. If she thinks we're involved, she won't dig deeper. It's our best chance."

Charles rose from the desk he rested on closing the gap between us resting his hand against my waist, unintentionally I leaned into his touch as he cupped my face with the other hand. "And if she does dig deeper?" he asked. "What then?"

I searched his eyes, seeing a vulnerability that mirrored my own. "Then we deny it," I said. "We stick to the story. Enemies, remember?" my voice barely over a whisper.

His lips curved into a slight grin. "Enemies," he repeated, but there was a certain fire in his sea-green eyes "Yet here we are."

Before I could respond, he kissed me again— slow and deliberate, exploring as if he were savoring this moment. This time, it wasn't for show. It was to cement our new alliance that went beyond survival. His lips moved against mine, muddling whatever response I had planned to give. The classroom walls faded away, leaving only us.

When we finally pulled apart, a little out of breath I whispered, "We're playing a dangerous game, Charles." He pressed his forehead to mine. "Maybe," he smirked.