Aria drew in a breath.
"I—"
"Enough," the teacher interrupted, tapping the board.
"Questions after class. We're moving on."
Just like that, the moment passed.
Aria lowered her eyes and reached for her pen, nodding once.
Her shoulders loosened as the lesson resumed, the sound of chalk filling the room.
Beside her, Zack clicked his tongue quietly.
"Saved by the bell," he murmured.
She let out a small breath that could almost pass for a laugh. "Looks like it."
He slid his test back onto his desk, already shifting his attention forward.
The curiosity lingered—but it softened, no longer sharp enough to cut.
Aria stared at the page in front of her, pretending to take notes.
The red 100% glared up at her.
Not hers.
Her grip tightened around the pen.
After class, she thought.
That's when it would matter.
The rest of the lesson passed without incident.
Too easily.
Aria kept her head down, copying formulas she didn't need, nodding when the teacher asked questions she already knew the answers to—or at least, answers Ava would have known.
Every few minutes, she felt Zack glance her way.
Not suspicious.
Curious.
Worse.
When the bell rang, chairs scraped back and the room filled with movement. Aria stood quickly, too quickly, shoving her books into her bag.
She just needed to leave.
"Hey."
Zack's voice stopped her.
She turned, forcing her expression neutral.
"Yeah?"
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck—an awkward, almost boyish gesture that softened his usual confidence.
"About earlier," he said. "You don't have to explain if you don't want to. I just—"
He shrugged.
"It was cool. Seeing how you think."
Her chest tightened.
"Oh," Aria said. "It wasn't a big deal."
He smiled at that. A real one this time.
"Still," he said lightly.
"You make chemistry look easy."
The word you landed carefully. Deliberate.
He wasn't talking about the test anymore.
Before she could respond, someone called his name from across the room. Zack glanced over his shoulder, then back at her.
"Later?" he asked.
Aria nodded.
"Later."
He walked off, still smiling.
Aria remained where she was for a moment, fingers curled around the strap of her bag.
That was the problem.
Zack didn't doubt her.
He believed in her.
And belief, she realized, was far more dangerous than suspicion.
*****
By lunchtime, Ava had almost convinced herself she was breathing normally again.
Almost.
The morning blurred past in fragments—lockers slamming, voices calling Aria's name like it belonged to her, teachers nodding at her with familiarity she didn't deserve. She followed Maya and Elise through the halls, listening more than she spoke, copying Aria's rhythm the way she'd practiced in her head.
Laugh when they laugh.
Don't overshare.
Don't swear.
Definitely don't ramble.
Still, she could feel it.
The weight of being seen.
"You're quiet today," Elise said as they slid into seats at a long table near the windows.
"That whole engaged-and-royal-treatment thing finally sink in?"
Ava let out a small laugh, dropping her bag beside her chair.
"Something like that."
Maya studied her over her juice box, sharp eyes narrowing just slightly. "You okay?"
Too perceptive.
Ava nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just tired."
Which wasn't a lie.
Pretending to be someone else was exhausting in a way sleep couldn't fix.
They talked about classes, teachers, gossip Ava barely followed.
She relaxed, just a little, letting herself exist in the space Aria had carved out so effortlessly.
Then the air changed.
She felt it before she saw him.
The table went quieter—not silent, but aware.
A ripple of attention passed through the students nearby, heads turning, whispers lowering.
Ava's fingers curled around her fork.
Don't look, she told herself.
Too late.
Matthias stood a few steps away.
No tray. No friends.
Just him—hands in his pockets, posture calm, presence undeniable. His blazer was still perfectly fitted, his tie still exactly where he'd fixed hers earlier.
His gaze found her immediately.
Held.
Maya noticed. Of course she did.
"Oh," she said lightly, eyes flicking between them.
"Speak of the fiancé."
Elise's eyes widened. "He's actually coming over?"
Ava's stomach dropped.
Yes.
Yes, he was.
Matthias stopped beside the table, his attention focused solely on Ava.
The rest of the world seemed to recede, the noise dimming like someone had turned the volume down.
"Aria," he said.
Her name sounded different in his voice. Heavier. Intentional.
She looked up at him, forcing her shoulders back. "Matthias."
His eyes flicked briefly to the empty seat beside her.
"This taken?" he asked.
It wasn't really a question.
Maya raised an eyebrow, amused. Elise looked between them like she was watching a drama unfold in real time.
"Uh," Ava started.
"Yes," Matthias decided, pulling the chair out and sitting before she could stop him.
Just like that.
He leaned back slightly, one arm draped casually over the back of the chair, posture relaxed—too relaxed for someone who'd just inserted himself into her safe space.
Maya smiled, sharp and curious.
"So you're the famous Matthias."
His gaze shifted to her, polite but cool.
"I suppose I am."
Elise leaned forward, grinning.
"You've been the topic of conversation all morning."
"I can imagine," he replied, tone dry.
Ava stared at her plate.
Great. Just great.
Matthias leaned closer—not touching her, not quite—but close enough that his voice dropped.
"You're avoiding me," he said quietly.
Her fork paused mid-air.
"I'm eating lunch."
"Mm," he hummed. "With impressive dedication."
She shot him a look.
"What do you want?"
His lips curved faintly. That almost-smile again.
"To see how you're holding up," he said.
"You ran earlier."
"I walked," Ava muttered.
Maya watched them now, openly intrigued.
"You two are… interesting," she said.
Matthias glanced at her, then back to Ava. "She always has been."
Ava stiffened.
Always.
The word lingered, heavy with implication.
She leaned closer to him, lowering her voice.
"You're going to get me caught."
His eyes darkened, just slightly.
"Then don't slip."
Easy for him to say.
A bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of lunch soon.
Students began standing, gathering their things.
Matthias rose smoothly to his feet.
"I'll see you later," he said, already stepping back.
Ava blinked. "Where?"
He paused, turning just enough to look over his shoulder at her.
"You'll find out," he said calmly.
Then he walked away.
Maya exhaled slowly. "Wow."
Elise turned to Ava, eyes bright. "Okay, you have to tell us everything."
Ava forced a laugh, heart pounding.
"There's really nothing to tell."
But as she gathered her things, one thought echoed loud and clear in her mind—
Matthias wasn't just watching her anymore.
He was closing in.
By the time the final bell rang, Ava felt like she'd run a marathon without moving an inch.
The halls emptied in waves—laughter, footsteps, lockers slamming shut as students poured outside. She followed Maya and Elise toward the front, nodding through their goodbyes, promising to text later, promising she wouldn't disappear again.
Promises she wasn't sure she could keep.
Outside, the afternoon sun was warm, bright enough to make everything feel deceptively normal.
Ava stood near the gate, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, eyes scanning the line of cars pulling up.
Okay. Driver. Where are you?
She felt oddly self-conscious standing there alone. As Ava, she'd walk home. Or take a bus. Or disappear into the crowd without anyone noticing.
As Aria?
She waited.
Minutes passed.
No familiar car.
Her chest tightened.
Don't tell me something's wrong already.
She pulled her phone out, thumb hovering over the screen—then stopped.
A black car rolled up beside her.
Slow.
Deliberate.
She knew before she looked.
The window slid down.
Matthias sat inside, relaxed, one arm resting against the door frame. His tie was loosened now, blazer gone, sleeves rolled just enough to make him look unfairly casual.
Still infuriatingly composed.
"Waiting for someone?" he asked.
Ava's heart sank.
"…Yes," she said. "My driver."
He nodded once, like he already knew that.
"Change of plans," Matthias said calmly. "Your mother asked that I drop you off."
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
"What?"
He tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction with mild interest. "She said it would be easier. One car. One route."
That did not sound like Aria's mother.
Or maybe it did.
Ava glanced past him. His driver sat in front, eyes forward, expression neutral—as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
"I wasn't told," Ava said carefully.
Matthias's lips curved. "You rarely are."
That made her bristle.
"I can wait," she said. "I'm sure they'll be here soon."
He studied her for a moment—really studied her—then leaned back.
"You could," he said. "Or you could stop drawing attention to yourself and get in."
She looked around.
Students were still leaving. A few glances had already been thrown their way. Whispers starting again.
Ava clenched her jaw.
This was exactly how he did it—cornered her without touching her at all.
"Five minutes," she muttered.
Matthias opened the door.
Ava hesitated… then stepped in.
The door shut softly behind her, sealing her into the quiet luxury of the car.
It smelled faintly clean. Expensive. Controlled.
She buckled her seatbelt, sitting stiffly, eyes forward.
The car pulled away.
Silence stretched between them.
Matthias broke it first.
"You survived your first day," he said.
She let out a breath. "Barely."
A pause.
Then—"You did better than I expected."
She glanced at him. "That's supposed to comfort me?"
"No," he replied evenly. "It's an observation."
She sighed, leaning back despite herself. "Why are you really doing this?"
He didn't answer immediately.
The city blurred past outside the window.
Finally, he spoke.
"Because," Matthias said calmly, "if anyone's going to watch you closely… it might as well be me."
Ava's stomach twisted.
She turned toward him, heart thudding. "And if I mess up?"
His gaze met hers—steady, unreadable.
"Then," he said quietly, "I decide what happens next."
Ava swallowed.
So much for a peaceful ride home.
The car slowed.
Then turned.
Ava felt it immediately—the subtle shift in direction, the way the city outside the window no longer matched the route she'd been watching.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt.
This isn't the way.
Her gaze snapped to the window, tracking unfamiliar streets, taller hedges, quieter roads. The noise of the city softened, replaced by something more private. More secluded.
Her pulse spiked.
"Matthias," she said, trying to keep her voice level, "this isn't my route."
He didn't respond.
Instead, he leaned back into his seat, head resting against the leather, eyes sliding shut like he'd decided the conversation was over.
Too calm.
Too deliberate.
Her chest tightened.
"Where are we going?" Ava asked, sharper this time.
Still nothing.
The car continued forward, smooth and unhurried.
Ava's heart began to race. Her thoughts spiraled—every warning Aria had ever given her, every instinct screaming that this was not okay. She shifted in her seat, fingers gripping the edge like it could anchor her.
"Matthias," she said again, quieter now, unease bleeding into her voice. "You said you were dropping me off."
His lips curved slightly, eyes still closed.
"I am," he replied.
That didn't help.
"Then why did we turn?"
He opened one eye, glancing at her sideways—amused, infuriatingly calm.
"Because," he said, "you don't go straight home today."
Ava's stomach dropped.
Her breath caught as the car rolled through tall gates she hadn't noticed until they were opening, iron and imposing, swallowing the road behind them.
Her fear sharpened into something cold and focused.
"Matthias," she said, forcing steadiness into her voice, "you need to tell me what's going on."
He opened his eyes fully now, meeting her gaze at last.
"You're still playing catch-up," he said softly. "I'm just… adjusting the pace."
The gates closed behind them with a quiet finality.
And Ava realized—whatever this detour was—
It wasn't optional.