MIA

“Five more minutes,”

Mr. Williams announced, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of pencils scratching against paper. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I anxiously bit my thumbnail, trying to solve the math problem in front of me.

Time was running out, and the pressure of the ticking clock made my heart race. The numbers and symbols on the page seemed to blur together, mocking me with how difficult they were. I tried to focus, but my mind kept wandering, looking for any distraction to avoid the frustration building inside me.

A quick glance around the room showed a sea of worried faces. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Some of my classmates had already given up, randomly circling answers just to finish. But not me—I refused to give in, even though I had no idea if what I was writing was right. Honestly, I didn’t even get why we always had to find x.

I glanced over at Ethan, who was sitting next to me. He was deep in concentration, struggling with a problem of his own. I wanted to ask him for help, knowing he was great at this stuff, but I held back. I needed to prove to myself that I could do this on my own.

“Done,” someone suddenly said, breaking the silence. Everyone looked up to see Jackson standing with his completed test in hand. He walked up to the teacher’s desk, ignoring the stares from the rest of the class.

“Asians and their big brains,” Ethan muttered quietly, a mix of envy and admiration in his voice. I was close enough to hear him and couldn’t help but agree.

Mr. Williams looked over Jackson’s test, his eyes widening slightly before he nodded and let Jackson return to his seat. The class buzzed with whispers, all of us amazed at how fast Jackson had finished. I rested my cheek on my desk, staring at my unfinished work and feeling even more frustrated.

I wasn’t surprised Jackson was the first to finish—he’d always been the smartest. But who studies on the weekends?

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice someone approaching until a shadow fell over my desk. Startled, I looked up to find Jackson standing in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, glancing nervously at Mr. Williams, who was busy on his phone.

Jackson just grinned, holding a finger to his lips as he quickly dropped a crumpled piece of paper on my desk before walking away.

Curious and a little nervous, I unfolded the note. What I saw made me gasp, which caught Mr. Williams’s attention.

“Is there a problem, Miss Smith?” he asked, sounding suspicious.

Panicking, I quickly folded the paper and shook my head.

“No, sir, everything’s fine,” I stammered, sneaking a look at Jackson, who was now pretending to sleep. “Everything’s perfect.”

Mr. Williams didn’t push it and instead announced, “Two more minutes.” The class erupted into a flurry of activity as everyone tried to finish up. Taking advantage of the chaos, I unfolded the note again and started copying the answers, keeping one eye on Mr. Williams to make sure I didn’t get caught.

“Mia, I’m next,” Ariel whispered. I nodded, not looking up, focused on shading the right bubbles on my test.

“I’m done!” I said excitedly, standing up and quickly passing the note to Ariel as I made my way to Mr. Williams’s desk. I was sure he was surprised—I certainly would be in his shoes.

“You sure, Miss Smith? Maybe double-check your work,” Mr. Williams said, sounding doubtful.

I frowned a little. “Why? I know what I did, sir,” I replied confidently, handing him my test and flashing a smile back at my seat. As I walked back, I caught Jackson’s eyes on me. My heart skipped a beat, and I whispered, “Thank you,” just loud enough for him to hear.

“Time’s up!” Mr. Williams called out, collecting the rest of the tests. Ariel reluctantly handed hers in, saying, “Well, I guess a D isn’t all bad, right?”

Sydney and I burst into laughter, momentarily forgetting how nervous we were about our grades.

“Hey, Sydney, what do you think you’re going to get?” I asked, curious.

She shrugged. “Maybe a B?”

“Oh no, Barbie alert at 8 o’clock,” Ariel whispered with a smirk.

Sydney and I turned to see Rachel and her friends heading our way. The “Barbie Alert” was our code for when the popular girls were around, usually up to something flirty. Rachel, with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and perfect skin, was at the front of the group, making a beeline for Jackson.

“Hey,” Rachel said, sitting down next to Jackson, who was reading a book. I couldn’t help but watch, hoping he wouldn’t fall for her charm.

“Mia, let it go. If he starts liking her, what can you do?” Sydney said, looking concerned.

“Yeah, didn’t you say you just wanted to be friends with him?” Ariel added, reminding me of my own words. That one stung a little.

"Of course, I still want to be his friend, but that doesn't mean I'll let him get entangled with her," I declared, determination fueling my steps as I approached Jackson's seat.

"Um... Jackson," I stammered, my hands sweating nervously, "it's time for your orientation." I blurted out the words, feeling a surge of panic as Rachel's glare bore into me.

"I was talking to him," Rachel hissed, rising from her seat and taking a step closer, her towering presence intimidating. "And who are you? I don't think I've seen you here before."

What? We had been in the same class for three years! I screamed internally, but outwardly, I maintained a calm facade.

"I'm..." I trailed off, regretting my decision to step in and save Jackson. Suddenly, a gentle hand pushed me aside, and I found myself standing behind Jackson as he faced Rachel head-on.

"She's right, I do have orientation. Maybe we can talk some other time," he replied calmly. Rachel's anger seemed to dissipate when she heard the prospect of a future conversation, while mine simmered beneath the surface.

Ha! I should have known he would be hooked too.

"Well, if that's the case, I'll see you later," Rachel said, giving her signature wink to Jackson before flipping her hair and strutting away, leaving me with a final glare that screamed, Don't mess with me.

"Let's go," Jackson snapped me back to reality, packing his books into his bag and waiting for me to lead the way. I nodded, matching his stride as we walked side by side. Just as we neared the classroom door, Ethan sprinted towards us, his gaze alternating between Jackson and me.

"Hey, Mia! Where are you going?"

"I'm supposed to give Jackson a quick tour around the school," I announced, hoping Ethan would take the hint. But he didn’t.

"Well, if that's the case, let me come with you."

Oh no.

"It's actually nothing, Ethan. I don't want to stress you," I said, placing my hand on his elbow, attempting to change his mind.

"Mia, it's okay. I won't mind," he reassured me, his smile unwavering.

"I would," Jackson interjected, his voice laced with irritation as his eyes locked on my hand touching Ethan. "I appreciate your gesture, but I only want Mia to escort me," he asserted, gently removing my hand from Ethan's elbow before striding out of the classroom.

I stood there, stunned by the unexpected turn of events, frozen in place as Ethan watched Jackson leave, confusion etched on his face.

"What's his deal?" Ethan muttered bluntly, frustration clear in his voice. I knew his anger stemmed from Jackson's recent arrival. I hesitated for a moment, gathering my courage before speaking up.

"I apologize, maybe we can go to the park on Saturday," I offered, even though it wasn't what I truly wanted. My thoughts were entirely consumed by a particular person with mesmerizing brown eyes, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

To my surprise, Ethan's frown slowly transformed into a smile.

"Really?" he asked, hope lacing his voice. I nodded, unable to suppress my own smile.

"Well, it's a date then," he whispered in my ear before turning back to his seat, his frustration momentarily forgotten. A date.

A date!

When I meant going to the park, I wasn't suggesting that. Urghh!

I walked out of the classroom, my pulse quickening as I spotted Jackson standing at the corner, waiting for me. His presence sent a jolt of anticipation through my veins.

"Let's go," I suggested, but he only nodded, his silence speaking volumes. I led him through the corridors, showing him the library, the teacher's office, and finally, we made our way to the basketball court, knowing his towering height might pique his interest.

I couldn't help but feel dwarfed next to him. Puberty had granted him the gift of incredible height, making me feel small and insignificant in comparison.

Just as we were about to continue our tour, Jackson's eyes caught sight of a door. I followed his gaze and read the sign—it was the music room.

"Oh, it's our music room," I explained, a touch of pride in my voice. "But we're only allowed in when the teachers are around, you know, in case someone breaks something." He nodded, his hand instinctively reaching for the doorknob.

"It's open. That's weird," I remarked, moving closer to the door and cautiously turning the handle. The door swung open silently, revealing an empty room devoid of sound. A sense of curiosity filled the air, and I hesitantly stepped inside, Jackson following closely behind.

As we entered, an eerie stillness settled upon us. The absence of voices and laughter that usually filled this space made it feel sacred, as though we had stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary.

"Maybe—" I began, but my voice trailed off as I turned and collided with Jackson's solid chest. "Jackson, what are you made of, bricks?" I pouted, my hand instinctively reaching to rub my forehead where I had made contact. His voice reverberated through the room, making me aware that we were alone.

Alone.

"Sorry," he whispered, his hand gently touching my forehead, his concern evident in his eyes.

"Mia, your face is red," he remarked, surprise evident in his voice. My eyes widened, and I quickly shifted away from him, trying to distance myself both physically and emotionally.

"Oh, uh, maybe... maybe it's the weather. It's so hot, you know," I stammered, flapping my hands in front of me, desperately hoping he would buy my feeble excuse.

He regarded me with a mix of concern and understanding before nodding in acceptance. With a few steps, he moved toward the grand piano that stood majestically in the corner of the room, its black and white keys beckoning to be played.

"Do you remember the first time I played for you?" he asked, his fingers gently grazing the surface of the piano keys.

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I reminisced about that moment.

"Of course, you were terrible," I teased, a lighthearted chuckle escaping my lips. It earned me a laugh from Jackson, a sound that warmed my heart and eased the tension that had settled between us.

"Yeah," he whispered, his fingers dancing across the keys, testing their responsiveness.

A thought crossed my mind, and I couldn't resist asking, "What?" His gaze met mine, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination.

"Let me play for you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"N-Now?" I stuttered, taken aback by his sudden request.

He nodded, patting the seat next to him on the piano bench. "Come on, please, Mia," he implored, tilting his head slightly and pouting his lips. It was a pleading expression that I found impossible to resist. My mind went blank, and before I knew it, my legs carried me to the seat beside him. I sat down slowly, making sure our arms wouldn't touch, my face still flushed from our earlier collision.

Breathe Mia, just breathe.

......