Dane 

In the days that followed, Jared looked like he was being haunted by a clingy ghost. His shoulders were always hunched, his eyes downcast, and his every move had this tragic, funeral-march vibe.

And around Silvia? Forget it. Even when she was dressed up as Silus, he twitched like someone had wired him into an electric fence. Guilt was practically DJ'ing his brain—spinning regret on a loop—and he just kept dancing to the same sad beat.

The worst part? He had chances. Dozens of them. The universe kept teeing up perfect opportunities for him to talk to Silvia, and every time, he ducked. He even stopped showing up at her workplace, playing this high-stakes emotional hide-and-seek where he was always "it," but Silvia had left the game entirely.

I couldn't blame him, though. Imagine finding out your best mate was actually the sister of your bully—and worse, realising you'd been hurting her this whole time. That was enough to shatter anyone's self-image.

For all his size and strength, Jared was just soft underneath. Big guy, big guilt.

Silvia, though—she didn't chase him. She didn't demand apologies or explanations. She just gave him the breathing room he so obviously needed. She trusted he'd come around when he was ready. And in the meantime? She carried on like a machine.

Honestly, the girl was killing it. School. Job. Keeping up the whole Silus act without missing a beat. It was like watching someone juggle flaming torches on a unicycle. I half-expected her to pull off the wig one day and reveal a superhero mask underneath.

Still, even if she played it cool, I could tell she hoped Jared would get his act together. They both deserved a clean slate—one without the cracks and splinters Silus had left in his wake.

Let's be real, none of this was their fault. This whole disaster circus had one ringleader, and his name was Silus. That guy had a talent for wrecking lives like it was a full-time job.

The weekend rolled around, and that was how I ended up at Silvia's doorstep for what she called a "study session." The moment the door opened, my heart betrayed me by sprinting laps in my chest.

"Where's Camila?" I asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual.

"She had to run an errand for her mum. She'll be late," Silvia said, all calm.

"And your dad? He off, uh, saving lives?" I added, flashing what had to be the world's most awkward grin.

"Yes. Out there saving lives one spreadsheet at a time." She laughed, and it didn't help my situation at all.

I froze halfway across the threshold. "So...it's just us two here?"

"Yes. Why?" Her brow asked like I'd asked if water was wet.

"...No reason. Just checking."

Cue internal screaming. My heart was trying to bust out of my chest, and my brain? Useless. Totally fried. I was two seconds from blurting something so dumb it would haunt me for the rest of my life.

Heart, calm the hell down. Brain, do your job. For once.

I followed her into the living room where the sunlight poured through the windows. For a split second, I considered starting a beauty channel because, damn—the lighting was flawless. I ditched my bag near the coffee table and flopped onto the carpet.

Silvia, meanwhile, drifted towards the kitchen. She glanced back with this look that screamed, "Drink, or are you planning to die of dehydration right in front of me?"

"Any soda will do," I said, aiming for nonchalant while my stomach butterflies practised synchronised swimming. "As long as it doesn't explode in my face."

She nodded and vanished into the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts—which, spoiler alert, were anything but holy.

My gaze snagged on a family photo hanging on the wall. Silvia as a kid—big grin, happy eyes, back when smiles weren't something you had to fake. Below it sat another frame, and oh boy, jackpot—a throwback of me, Silvia, and Silus rocking hairstyles that screamed, "What the hell were we thinking?"

I walked over and picked up the photo. Warmth crept through me. Back then, our biggest crisis was who stole the last cookie. No disguises, no chaos—just dumb, messy kids.

I chuckled under my breath, set the photo down, and returned to the carpet, pretending to care about the notes scattered on the coffee table. My brain, of course, refused to cooperate—too busy binge-watching a highlight reel of nostalgia.

Silvia came back with a cola and dropped it next to my notes before plopping down beside me. The second she leaned in, I might as well have shown up to a job interview in a bathrobe. Self-consciousness hit me like a brick.

And then there was her scent. Subtle, floral, soft—like bottled sorcery. My face heated so fast I probably resembled a freshly boiled lobster. Every inhale was another hit of eau de Silvia, and suddenly this wasn't a study session—it was a test of willpower.

My brain zeroed in on how close she was sitting. My guardian angel was somewhere overhead, facepalming so hard it probably dislocated a celestial wrist.

She turned to me with those big, honey-coloured eyes—the kind that made a kitten look like an amateur in the cuteness department. "Any brain farts you need help clearing?" she asked, her words clashing with how sweet and innocent she looked.

I glued my gaze to the ceiling, suddenly fascinated by its paint job. "U-uh, yeah, pretty much all of it. But maths is my mortal enemy. Numbers and I have been beefing for years, and spoiler—I'm losing."

She smiled. "Let me help you with that."

She leaned in closer. Shoulder brushing mine. Heart drumming like it had downed three energy drinks. My sanity dangling by a thread thinner than dental floss.

I was losing it.

Silvia was focused—totally oblivious to the chaos she was unleashing in my chest. I stared at her, equal parts awe and agony.

My fingers twitched, nearly reaching for her hair. That's when I realised—I was seconds away from doing something epically stupid.

The doorbell rang. Sweet mercy. A lifeline.

Silvia jumped up to answer it, releasing me from her gravity. The second she left, I slapped myself in the face. Hard. What the hell was I even thinking?

Camila's arrival reset the whole vibe. She breezed in with an "Oops, I'm late" like she hadn't just saved me from spontaneous combustion. One glance in my direction and she knew. She threw a glance at Silvia, who was still coasting along, clueless as ever.

"I knew it..." she muttered, dragging a hand down her face like she'd cracked the Da Vinci Code.

Ah, shit. The crazy best friend had officially clocked my not-so-subtle crush. Fantastic.

She dropped onto Rod's sacred couch cushion like she owned it, flinging her phone onto the table, and wow—it looked like it had lost a fistfight with pavement.

"What happened to your phone?" Silvia asked, concerned.

"Oh, this?" Camila shrugged. "Jared decided it needed some fresh air and introduced it to the floor."

The moment Jared's name hit the air, Silvia froze. Her face cycled through about five emotions in two seconds before she schooled it again.

***

A few weeks cruised by in the usual blur—school, "study" sessions with Silvia and Camila, and Silvia's heroic attempt to save Silus' tragic academic record.

Then—boom. Annual exams. The academic apocalypse. Grade Eleven's equivalent of a practical joke with zero punchline. Silvia mentally tied back her imaginary ponytail and suited up for battle. She had nothing but pencils, prayers, and a caffeine consumption that should've been registered as a biohazard.

For a whole week, she went twelve rounds with six subjects. Every day was a new boss fight. And somehow? She crushed it. She marched in armed with the sword of determination, the shield of stubbornness, and a battle cry that honestly sounded like, "More coffee!"

I sat there, hearts popping out of my eyes every time I looked at her. Camila noticed, of course. She kept shooting me looks like, "Get it together, you lovesick moron," and I had to resist the urge to crawl under a desk.

Then came the P.E. practical. Aiden and I were in the same elective, so we ended up watching Silvia's turn. Aiden? Totally unimpressed. Honestly, I didn't think the guy's impressed by anything. But me? I was floored. She was fast, agile, and just...awesome. Sure, she wasn't outshining the guys, but who cared? She was already running laps around my heart.

God help me, I'd become her loyal sidekick. The type ready to fetch her coffee, slay dragons, maybe even hold her bag if she asked. Somebody needed to stage an intervention before I started barking.

I even snuck into her art class once, curious about her final project. What did I find? Her canvas sitting there, untouched since day one. When I asked, she shrugged and said finishing it didn't feel right—like adding her mark would ruin the piece.

I already knew Silus was a beast at drawing. The one thing he was genuinely great at besides being an absolute pain. Of course, he kept it hidden like someone might actually...compliment him. Couldn't have that.

The wild part? That unfinished drawing felt like a metaphor for Silus himself—sketched out but never fully realised. Look at me, getting deep. Either Silvia's rubbing off on me, or I was going insane.

Finally, exam week limped to its miserable end, and the entire school exhaled like inmates plotting a mass breakout. Summer was practically peeking around the corner. I could already taste the freedom—and sunscreen.

But before we could run off into the sunset, the teachers dropped the ultimate mood killer—results were still coming. Which meant Academic Armageddon was upon us. Red pens locked and loaded, firing squads ready.

We sat there sweating, whispering prayers to the gods of mercy. Anything but a "see me after class" grade. My fragile ego couldn't take that kind of funeral.