CONFUSION

Next morning came. The cafeteria was its usual chaotic self—students talking over each other, trays clattering against tables, the hum of conversation rising and falling in the background. But today, it felt louder, sharper, like every sound was more intrusive than it had ever been. I scanned the room, my gaze moving quickly over the tables, searching for something—or someone. It was an instinct by now, this need to know who was where, to figure out the dynamics of the room before it even unfolded. But today, I wasn't just searching out familiar faces. Today, I was looking for Kiel.

I had told myself that the argument yesterday hadn't mattered, that I wasn't going to care. But here I was, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the crowd, hoping to understand if things had shifted between us.

There he was.

At the far end of the cafeteria, Kiel sat with Mia, his broad shoulders filling up the space at the table. His face, soft and almost angelic with those dark eyes and the hint of a smile, looked effortlessly at ease as Mia leaned in close, her voice bright and animated. Mia, of course, looked just as comfortable as she always did. She was easy to read, easy to like.

It was maddening.

The weight in my chest grew heavier as I continued to watch them, and the whispers around me started to filter into my thoughts. "They look good together," a girl from the table next to me said, her voice just loud enough for me to catch. "Don't you think?"

"They're perfect for each other," someone else added.

The voices began to blend together, like background noise. But I still heard them. I felt the tightness in my chest, my jaw clenching slightly as I forced myself to look away. I couldn't let this affect me. But it did. I hated how it made me feel.

It was all so easy for them—so natural.

Mia was leaning toward him now, her laugh light and free, as if the entire room revolved around her. I couldn't help but notice the way she brushed against his arm, that unspoken familiarity between them. I hated how obvious it was. She was staking her claim, and I could see it so clearly.

I shifted in my seat, feeling like I was suffocating. I couldn't just sit here, trapped in my own head, watching them. I needed to distract myself. But then, as if my thoughts had reached him, Kiel's gaze shifted across the room. It was only a glance, barely a second, but his eyes met mine.

For a moment, everything seemed to still.

Had he been thinking about yesterday? About what happened after the presentation? Did it matter to him? The questions lingered, and I found myself holding my breath, waiting for him to break the silence between us. But then, just as quickly, he turned his gaze back to Mia, that same easy smile returning to his face.

I exhaled, a soft, almost imperceptible release.

I hated how much I was reading into this.

I wasn't even sure why I cared. Kiel was just another person, wasn't he? He didn't owe me anything. But the moment that brief eye contact had happened, it had felt like something was on the line. And yet, nothing had changed. They were still laughing, still talking like they were the only two people in the room.

I felt my chest tighten again. It was so frustrating, the way they made it look so easy. I wasn't like that. I couldn't just sit back and let things unfold. I had to understand everything.

And then, I heard a voice beside me.

"You're not sitting alone, are you?"

I looked up to find Lincoln, my classmate from almost all of my majors, standing there with his tray, looking at me with that quiet, almost puzzled expression he always wore. Lincoln wasn't someone I interacted with much, but there was something about him that was... steady. He didn't ask questions he didn't need to.

"No," I said quickly, glancing back at the table where Kiel and Mia were sitting. "I just… didn't feel like sitting with them today."

Lincoln raised an eyebrow but didn't press. He simply nodded to the seat across from him. "You can sit here, if you want."

I hesitated for a moment before nodding, sliding my tray over to the empty seat. I set it down in front of me, my movements deliberate, but my mind was still on Kiel and Mia. Lincoln didn't seem to mind my silence, and that was something I appreciated. He just ate his lunch, casually chewing as if the entire world wasn't falling apart around me.

For a few moments, there was just the sound of utensils clinking on trays, a quiet rhythm that calmed my scattered thoughts. I could feel my heartbeat slowing. But it wasn't enough. I couldn't stop glancing at Kiel and Mia.

Their laughter was like a cruel reminder. Like a door I couldn't open. I could feel it gnawing at me, pulling at something deep inside.

Lincoln cleared his throat, breaking my thoughts. "You and Kiel make a good team, don't you think?"

His words hung in the air for a second. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my tone even.

Lincoln shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "Well, the way you both work together. It's like you understand each other, you know? You're both really good at what you do. You don't even need to say much to get things done. It just… works."

My heart skipped, my fingers tightening around my fork. "We don't work together," I replied quickly, my voice sharp. I didn't want to hear any more about Kiel. I didn't want to hear about how well we worked together, or how easy it seemed for everyone to pair us up in their minds. "It's not like that."

Lincoln didn't seem fazed. "I mean, you both just… seem to balance each other out."

I wanted to argue, to shoot back with something cutting, but I stopped myself. It didn't matter. "Things change," I muttered, pushing my food around on my plate.

Lincoln didn't press. He just nodded and went back to eating, leaving me with my swirling thoughts.

The silence stretched between us for a few moments before Lincoln spoke again. "You know," he said, glancing up from his tray, "it's okay to care about things. It's okay to feel, Keiyi. You don't have to have everything figured out all the time."

I stiffened at his words, unwilling to admit how much they resonated. "I don't know what you mean," I said quickly, pushing my tray forward like I was done eating, even though I wasn't.

Lincoln just nodded, sensing the end of the conversation. But I could tell he wasn't going to stop worrying about me. And for a moment, I let myself feel that warmth, that rare sense of being understood—if only for a second.

But then my gaze moved back to Kiel and Mia, and the knot in my chest tightened again. They were still laughing. Still too close. Still too perfect.

I couldn't shake it. I didn't want to. But I couldn't shake the feeling that, no matter what I did, I was always going to be watching from the outside.

_________________________________________________________________

The days leading up to my midterm exams passed in a blur. The usual rhythm of my routine—wake up, study, eat, study some more—had become almost mechanical. I had no room for distractions, and for the first time in a while, I shut out everything else. My phone went ignored, and when Riri called me asking when I'd finally go out and have some fun, I dismissed her without even thinking twice.

"I can't, Riri. Midterms are coming up. I need to focus," I said, the words feeling automatic, almost rehearsed. She didn't argue, but I could hear her sigh on the other end. "You always say that," she replied with a chuckle, but I already tuned her out, returning my attention to my textbook.

I didn't need a break. Not now. Not when I had a future to secure. Riri couldn't understand. She lived in the moment, chasing distractions. I couldn't afford to do that—not if I wanted everything to be perfect. Not if I wanted to be something more than just a name that got dropped when people referred to my mother's past mistakes.

Every night, I reviewed. Legal terms, business strategies, financial reports—nothing escaped me. I was methodical, relentless, and I wasn't going to let anyone, not even myself, get in the way. But even in the silence of my studying, there was a constant buzz of something I couldn't completely shake—thoughts of Kiel. I tried to push it away, bury it beneath the weight of my books, but every now and then, when I caught myself staring at my notes blankly, his face would pop into my head. Not that it mattered. I had bigger things to focus on.

The day of the exam came, and I sat down with the same unflinching composure I always had. My fingers hovered over the paper for a split second before I began, systematically answering each question. It wasn't easy. There were moments where I had to pause, double-check, make sure everything aligned just right. But that was fine. Perfection required precision. 

By the time the results were posted, I felt like the air had thickened, pressing down on my chest. I waited for what felt like an eternity before I opened the rankings. My eyes scanned the list, and there it was—my name, at the top as usual. I had done well.

But then my gaze flicked down. Kiel's name was right behind mine. He wasn't far off. A strange twist of something—relief, frustration, or maybe just confusion—settled in my stomach. Why did it bother me that he had done so well? I wasn't threatened by him. I didn't need to be. I had control. I always did. But the way he was there, so close, unsettled me more than it should have. Half of me actually wanted him to fail. And half of me is proud he did well.

It wasn't until I walked into the cafeteria the next day that I truly felt the weight of the unspoken tension between Kiel and me. I wasn't looking for him. Not really. But I couldn't help but glance in his direction when I entered, and there he was—sitting at a table with Mia. As usual, she was the center of attention, her laughter light and easy as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. But Kiel... Kiel was different. He sat a little too still, his focus flicking from Mia to the group around him, as if he were paying attention but not entirely present.

I told myself to ignore it. I had other things to worry about—other people to think about. Like Lincoln, who was sitting at a nearby table, waving me over.

I walked over, my footsteps brisk. Lincoln smiled as I sat down, offering me a bottle of water.

"How'd it go?" he asked, his voice casual, but there was a soft understanding in his eyes. He didn't need to know the details. He knew it was important to me. Lincoln was like that—no judgment, just quiet support. He was the type of person I could lean on, even if I never actually did.

"Good," I said simply. I didn't need to say more.

Lincoln didn't press, and for that, I was grateful. His calm presence was exactly what I needed at that moment. I wasn't interested in discussing scores or competition. Not today. But then my attention was drawn back to Kiel, who had just glanced in my direction. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second before he looked away quickly, almost too quickly.

It was like the briefest acknowledgment, but the impact it left lingered in the pit of my stomach. There was something about the way he looked at me—something unspoken. Maybe it was the argument we had, or maybe it was just the tension between us now, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he had something on his mind.

I couldn't help myself. I stole another glance at him, watching as he spoke to Mia. She was laughing at something he said, her hand brushing against his arm. It was effortless, casual—nothing I had with him. Not anymore. And for some reason, that stung more than it should have.

I forced myself to focus back on Lincoln, but my mind kept drifting. I could feel my pulse quicken when I saw Kiel's fingers move to adjust something on his notebook, and for a brief moment, I wondered if it had been on purpose, if he was trying to get my attention. But then, as if on cue, he looked back up at me, locking eyes for just a second longer than before. His lips barely curled up in a hint of a smile before he turned back to Mia, leaving me with a swirl of conflicting thoughts in my head.

I wasn't sure what to make of it. I wasn't sure what to make of him anymore.

Friday morning, after the midterm results were posted, I found myself walking through the hallway, my mind preoccupied with everything—my grades, the tension with Kiel, and what was still hanging between us after the argument. I tried to push it all away. I ranked first, and that should be enough, but I couldn't ignore the feeling that there was more to the situation.

I turned the corner and spotted him. Kiel. He was standing with some classmates, looking relaxed as always, his posture leaning slightly against the lockers. My gaze locked at him for a brief moment, but I quickly looked away, pretending I hadn't noticed him. I wasn't in the mood to deal with whatever this thing was between us. But then, just as I turned to walk off, I heard his voice.

"Hey, Keiyi," Kiel called out.

I stopped, my heart skipping a beat, though I tried not to let it show. I turned back toward him, keeping my face neutral.

"Congratulations on ranking first," he said, his voice quieter than usual, but with something in it I couldn't quite place. "You earned it."

I wasn't used to hearing words like that from him. Normally, I would've shrugged it off and moved on, but there was something in the way he said it that caught me off guard. He didn't seem like he was just giving a casual compliment. It was almost… thoughtful.

"Thanks," I muttered, trying to keep my response as cold and indifferent as possible.

Kiel hesitated for a moment before speaking again. His expression shifted, becoming a bit more serious. "I'm sorry about what I said during the presentation. I didn't mean it the way it came out."

My stomach twisted, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Was he really apologizing now? After everything? After the argument, the tension, the words we both threw at each other? It felt too sudden, like he was trying to smooth things over too quickly.

I didn't know how to respond right away. Part of me wanted to snap, to remind him of how he'd acted, to tell him that the apology wasn't going to fix anything. But another part of me... part of me felt a weird sense of relief at hearing him acknowledge his mistake. Still, I didn't let that show.

"You're fine," I said dismissively, trying to brush it off. "I didn't take it that seriously."

I wasn't going to let him think that his apology meant anything. It was just words, right? He probably didn't even mean it. He was just trying to patch things up because that's what people do when they realize they've messed up. I didn't need anyone's pity or their fake attempts to make things right.

He looked at me for a moment longer, like he wanted to say more, but I wasn't giving him the chance.

"I just… I didn't think about how much you were carrying," he continued, his voice a little softer. "I was caught up in the moment, and I should've been more aware of everything you were handling. I'm sorry, Keiyi."

I felt an uncomfortable ache form in my chest. The words made me pause, but I wasn't going to let him see that. Of course.

"You really don't have to apologize," I said, my voice almost too cold, too detached. "I'm fine. I always am."

It was the same thing I always said. I was fine. I didn't need anyone to worry about me, and I didn't need anyone to tell me how to handle things. Kiel sighed quietly, running a hand through his hair. He didn't seem convinced, and the way his eyes lingered on me told me that he could see through my facade. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I wasn't in the mood for more of this.

"I have to go," I said abruptly, turning away from him before he could say anything more.

I didn't wait for his response. I walked quickly down the hallway, the distance between us growing with each step. I didn't look back.

As I moved through the crowd, I felt a strange mix of emotions bubbling up—confusion, irritation, maybe even a little disappointment. Why had Kiel apologized? Why did it make me feel so uneasy? I wasn't sure what I wanted from him. I wasn't sure what I was expecting anymore. Maybe I didn't want to hear it, but then again, maybe a part of me did.