Mrs Montero returned to work that week.
She still looked tired, her face thinner than before, but she forced a smile as she tied her uniform and prepared to leave the house. Oliver watched her quietly from the doorway.
"You don't have to rush," he said softly.
" I'll be fine," she replied. "Mrs Gracie needs me."
Oliver nodded. He had learned not to argue with her. She never listened anyway.
That afternoon, Oliver went to school as usual. Classes passed slowly, but this time, something was different. At closing time, Liam was already waiting by the gate.
Like always.
"You're late," Liam said, though he was smiling.
"You came early," Oliver replied.
Liam shrugged. "I wanted to walk you to work."
Oliver didn't refuse.
They walked side by side through the streets, the noise of students fading behind them. Neither spoke much. There was comfort in the silence now, something that hadn't existed before.
Halfway through the walk, Liam glanced at Oliver. "Your mom's back at work?"
"Yes," Oliver answered. "Today."
"That's good," Liam said quietly. "I was worried."
Oliver didn't respond, but he felt the words settle somewhere warm inside him.
When they reached the restaurant, Oliver stopped. "You don't have to wait every day," he said.
"I know," Liam replied. "But I want to."
Oliver looked away first.
The next week, Julian returned to school.
Oliver noticed immediately.
Julian looked thinner, his uniform looser around his shoulders. There were faint shadows under his eyes, and his usual easy smile came slower this time.
"Hey," Julian said when he saw Oliver. "Long time."
"You disappeared," Oliver replied.
Julian laughed weakly. "Guess I did."
Liam watched them from a short distance away, his expression unreadable. Something about Julian's return unsettled him. He couldn't explain why.
As the three of them stood together, Oliver felt it again—that quiet shift in the air. Things were moving forward, but not in a straight line.
And none of them knew where it would lead.
The physics lab was quieter than usual that afternoon.
Julian was busy with another class, so he wasn't hovering around Oliver like he often did. Liam noticed immediately—and he liked it. For once, it felt like the space belonged only to the two of them.
Oliver was focused on adjusting the equipment, his brows drawn together in concentration. Liam watched him for a while, boredom slowly creeping in. The silence felt heavy, almost too serious.
"This is boring," Liam said suddenly.
Oliver didn't look up. "Then do something useful."
Liam grinned. "I am."
Oliver frowned. "How is standing there useful?"
Liam leaned against the table, eyes roaming over Oliver in an open, shameless way. "You know," he said slowly, "you have really soft features."
Oliver froze.
"What?" he asked, finally looking at him.
"Your face," Liam continued casually. "Your eyes are kind of pretty. And your lips—" he paused on purpose, enjoying the way Oliver stiffened, "—they're soft-looking."
Oliver's face turned red almost instantly. "You're spouting nonsense," he snapped. "Fuck off."
Liam laughed. "See? Even when you're angry, you're cute."
"I am not cute," Oliver said sharply. "And stop saying things like that."
Liam raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm just saying… when you grow up, you should marry a strong woman."
Oliver blinked. "What?"
"A really strong woman," Liam went on seriously. "One who can protect you. Carry you if needed."
"That's ridiculous," Oliver said, annoyed. "I'm strong."
Liam looked him up and down slowly. "You?"
"Yes, me," Oliver replied defensively. "I can do… strong things."
"Like what?" Liam asked, clearly amused.
Oliver hesitated, then blurted, "I once carried a heavy sack of rice by myself."
Liam tilted his head. "How heavy?"
"Very heavy," Oliver said quickly. "And I didn't even struggle."
Liam bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Impressive."
"And," Oliver added, growing bolder, "I can run very fast. And I'm good at fighting too."
"Fighting?" Liam echoed.
"Yes," Oliver lied, eyes darting away. "Very good."
Liam couldn't help it anymore. He laughed, warm and genuine. "You're terrible at lying."
Before Oliver could react, Liam reached out and gently pinched his cheek.
Oliver gasped. "Hey!"
But Liam was already laughing, and Oliver—despite himself—started laughing too. It came out awkward, a little breathless, like neither of them expected it.
For a moment, the lab didn't feel like a classroom at all.
It felt like something else.
Something private.
And when their laughter finally faded, they stood there, too close, smiling at each other in a way neither fully understood yet.
Meanwhile, Lorette was walking down the hallway with Aurora by her side.
They slowed when laughter drifted out of the physics lab. Aurora tilted her head and peeped through the glass window first.
"Oh," she said softly. "It's Liam."
Lorette stepped closer.
Inside the lab, Liam and Oliver stood near the table, smiling, their laughter not fully faded. They were too close. Too relaxed. Too comfortable.
Aurora frowned slightly. "Don't you think that their friendship is… strange?"
Lorette didn't answer immediately. Her eyes stayed on Oliver.
She watched the way Liam leaned toward him. The way Oliver's smile lingered, unguarded. The way the space between them felt private, as if the rest of the world didn't exist.
" They've been inseparable lately," Aurora continued. "It's weird, right?"
"Yes," Lorette said quietly.
She took a long look at Oliver—at his calm face, his soft expression, the ease Liam had around him. Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. Discomfort. Jealousy. Suspicion.
"Let's go," Lorette said at last, turning away.
Aurora followed without another word.
Behind them, the lab door remained closed.
And inside, neither Liam nor Oliver noticed the eyes that had been watching—or the thoughts that had already begun to take shape.
Lorette kept walking, but her mind stayed behind at the lab door.
She could still see it clearly—Liam's smile, the way his attention rested fully on Oliver, as if nothing else mattered. He didn't look like that with her. He never had.
It's just a friendship, she told herself.
But the thought didn't settle.
Oliver's face replayed in her mind. Quiet. Soft. Too calm. Too close to someone like Liam. Lorette didn't like it. Not because Oliver had done anything wrong, but because something about him felt like a threat she couldn't name.
Liam had changed. She had felt it for weeks.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
I'll ask him, she decided. Soon.
And for the first time since they started dating, doubt followed her down the hallway...