Hearts Out of Bounds

Chapter 2: Tensions Rise

The next day, JC entered school with a lightness in his step. He was starting to bond with Harold and Claude, enjoying their company more than he expected. The morning flew by in comfortable conversation with them, and he was starting to feel like he was settling in. But that sense of ease was quickly shattered the moment Clint walked into their classroom.

As Clint strolled in, he spotted JC almost immediately. A smirk crossed his lips, and for a second, JC was taken aback, confused by the expression. What was that all about?

The day's literature discussion was on Shakespeare, and soon the class dove into a lively debate. When the teacher called on JC for his thoughts on Romeo and Juliet, JC spoke up confidently, offering his perspective on the tragedy of love and fate.

But just as he finished, Clint chimed in from the back. "I don't think it's about fate at all. They made reckless choices. Romeo wasn't thinking straight."

JC turned toward Clint, surprised. "I think their choices were driven by love. They couldn't help it."

Clint leaned back in his chair, eyes locked on JC. "Or maybe they were just fools in love, making impulsive decisions. People do that all the time."

Another question came up in the discussion, and once again, JC shared his view. But again, Clint countered, disagreeing with almost every point JC made. The back-and-forth felt less like a class discussion and more like a heated debate, and the teacher, sensing the tension, finally intervened with a chuckle.

"Alright, let's cool it, guys. Shakespeare isn't going anywhere."

JC sat back, his mind spinning. Why did Clint keep contradicting him? It felt personal, like Clint had it out for him. Does he not like me? JC thought.

Later, during the break, JC and Harold sat together, exchanging notes by writing in JC's notebook.

What's Clint's problem? JC scribbled.

Harold glanced at the question, biting his lip as if unsure how to answer. He finally wrote back, Not sure. Just don't ruffle his feathers. Trust me, he's complicated.

At lunchtime, JC and Harold sat in the cafeteria together, chatting casually, but JC's eyes kept flickering over to the opposite table, where Clint, Claude, and the rest of their group were sitting. They were the popular crowd, effortlessly handsome and cool. Harold noticed JC's stare.

"That's the handsome group," Harold said, half-jokingly, though his voice carried a hint of admiration.

JC smirked, "Handsome? Not all of them." His gaze drifted to Clint, almost subconsciously. Before he could stop himself, JC was looking straight at Clint, who caught him staring. JC quickly looked away, but it was too late.

Clint stood up, walking across the cafeteria toward them. JC felt a rush of panic. Oh no, here we go.

Clint stopped right next to their table, looking directly at JC. "What are you looking at?" he asked, his voice cool but laced with challenge.

Harold panicked, quickly jumping in. "N-nothing! We were just chatting!"

Clint gave JC a sharp, lingering look, then made a playful 'I see you' gesture before walking back to his table. JC felt his face flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

As Clint walked away, JC mumbled, "I can't stand him."

Harold glanced at him, clearly sensing his frustration. "Just... try to ignore him. Clint's a handful, trust me."

JC nodded, but inside, he felt like Clint's presence was inescapable, constantly looming over him.

The rest of the school day dragged on. JC remained quiet, feeling Clint's eyes on him more than once. Even when Clint wasn't looking, JC couldn't shake the feeling that Clint was somehow aware of every move he made. By the time the last bell rang, JC was relieved to head home and put the strange day behind him.

He walked down the street, enjoying the peace and quiet, when suddenly, the roar of a car engine cut through the air. He turned and saw Clint's car pulling up beside him. Clint rolled down the window, leaning out casually.

"Hey, get in," Clint called.

JC hesitated. "Uh... I'm good. I can walk."

Clint raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that made it clear he wasn't asking. "Get in," he repeated, more firmly this time.

Not wanting to cause any more tension, JC reluctantly got into the passenger seat. The silence in the car was thick as Clint drove. JC sat stiffly, unsure of what to say. He had no idea what Clint wanted.

After a few minutes, Clint finally spoke. "What were you talking about in the cafeteria earlier?"

JC blinked, caught off guard. "What? Oh, uh... Harold was just... we were talking about your group."

Clint's expression didn't change. "And?"

"And... Harold called you guys the handsome group," JC mumbled, trying to stay neutral. But Clint wasn't letting up.

"So," Clint leaned in slightly as they came to a stop at a red light, his eyes locked on JC. "You don't think I'm handsome?"

JC's heart pounded. He felt Clint's presence overwhelming him in the small space of the car. "I... uh..." JC stammered. "No, I mean, you are... I just thought you were arrogant. That's all."

Clint didn't move for a moment, just stared at JC with an intensity that made him squirm. Then, to JC's surprise, Clint smirked. "Arrogant, huh?"

JC quickly backtracked, panicking. "I didn't mean anything bad! You are... you know, handsome. I just... thought you were arrogant, that's all."

Clint's smirk widened, but he didn't say anything else. He turned the music on, breaking the tension, and the rest of the drive was quiet. JC felt like his heart was racing the entire time.

When they finally reached JC's house, JC practically bolted out of the car, mumbling a quick "Thanks" before rushing toward his front door. Clint watched him go, a strange, almost satisfied look on his face as he drove off. His earlier coldness had shifted into something softer—something that almost looked like contentment.

Clint was starting to feel something for JC, and for the first time in a long while, that made him smile.