CHAPTER 4 - ACROSS THE WINDOW

Ezra should have looked away.

The sensible thing would have been to close the curtains, step back from the window, and remind himself that staring at Jace Ryland was exactly how he’d ended up in this mess in the first place.

Instead, he stood there like an idiot.

Across the street, Jace remained near his own window. The distance between their houses wasn’t great. Their families had lived opposite each other for years, long enough for the rivalry between the Monroes and the Rylands to become local gossip. Reporters loved it. Voters loved it. Apparently everyone loved it except the people actually involved.

For a few awkward seconds, neither boy moved.

Then Jace pulled his curtain shut.

Just like that.

The moment ended.

Ezra let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and stepped away from the window. His heart felt ridiculous. Nothing had happened. They had literally looked at each other through two separate windows. That was it.

Yet somehow he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He grabbed the novel from his bedside table and dropped onto his bed, determined to focus on anything else. Ten minutes later, he was still on the same page.

His phone buzzed.

A message from Sophie.

Sophie: Survived being paired with the devil?

Ezra snorted.

Ezra: Barely.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Sophie: You know, if this ends with you murdering him, I’ll testify that it was self-defense.

Ezra: Thanks. That’s very supportive.

Sophie: That’s what friends are for.

A small smile appeared on Ezra’s face. Sophie was one of the few people at Ashford Academy who treated him like a normal human being.

Sophie: Seriously though, are you okay?

The smile faded.

Ezra stared at the screen for a moment before typing.

Ezra: Yeah.

He deleted it.

Typed again.

Ezra: Not really.

This time he hit send.

A reply came almost instantly.

Sophie: Because of the project?

Because of Jace.

Because of years of humiliation.

Because every time he thought he was finally getting over his stupid crush, Jace would smile and his brain would forget how to function.

Ezra: Something like that.

Sophie didn’t push further.

She never did.

Sophie: You’ll survive.

Ezra: That’s not very encouraging.

Sophie: Fine. You’ll survive and then become rich enough to buy the school and fire everyone.

Ezra: Better.

The conversation continued for a few minutes before Ezra finally put the phone down. The distraction helped, but only slightly.

Because the truth was, tomorrow still existed.

Tomorrow meant school.

School meant Jace.

And Jace meant troubled.

The next morning, Ashford Academy looked exactly the same as it always did.

Students crowded the hallways. Lockers slammed open and shut. Teachers tried and failed to maintain order. The familiar chaos of another school day surrounded Ezra as he made his way toward first period.

For a brief moment, he thought he might get lucky.

Then he heard laughter.

Not random laughter.

Familiar laughter.

Football-player laughter.

His shoulders immediately tensed.

A group of athletes stood near the stairwell. At the center of them, naturally, was Jace.

He was laughing at something one of his friends had said. The sight irritated Ezra more than it should have.

Some people made popularity look effortless.

Jace was one of them.

As Ezra walked past, he kept his gaze forward.

Don’t look.

Don’t stop.

Just keep moving.

Unfortunately, life rarely cooperated.

“Monroe.”

His stomach dropped.

The voice followed him like a curse.

Ezra stopped walking and slowly turned around.

Jace was looking directly at him.

Several of his teammates immediately went quiet.

Waiting.

Watching.

The audience had arrived.

“What?” Ezra asked.

One of the athletes exchanged a surprised look with another.

Normally Ezra avoided confrontation whenever possible.

Apparently yesterday’s frustration hadn’t completely disappeared.

Jace tilted his head slightly.

“We need to discuss the project.”

Of all the things Ezra expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them.

“What about it?”

“We need a topic.”

The answer sounded reasonable.

Unfortunately, coming from Jace, it felt suspicious.

Ezra crossed his arms.

“We can discuss it in class.”

“We have class in three hours.”

“So?”

For a second, annoyance flashed across Jace’s face.

The reaction was strangely satisfying.

Before either of them could continue, Mason appeared.

Mason Carter was Jace’s best friend and one of the few people in school who occasionally looked uncomfortable when the bullying started.

Occasionally.

Not often enough.

“Are you two flirting again?” Mason asked.

Several football players burst out laughing.

Ezra wished the floor would swallow him whole.

Jace rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“I’ve got questions,” Mason continued. “Like why you’ve voluntarily spoken to Monroe twice in two days.”

The laughter grew louder.

Jace looked ready to strangle him.

Ezra decided this was his opportunity to escape.

“See you in class.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

This time nobody stopped him.

Halfway down the hallway, however, he made the mistake of glancing back.

Jace was still standing there.

Still watching him.

And for reasons Ezra couldn’t understand, that bothered him far more than the jokes ever had.

Because Jace Ryland only paid attention to things that interested him.

The question was whether Ezra should be worried that he suddenly seemed to qualify.