Chapter 9 A Date

Liam sat perfectly still, his body still burning from the coffee spill, as the girl on his lap frantically searched for something in her bag. Her face was slightly flushed—out of embarrassment, not attraction—as she quickly pulled out a handkerchief and began dabbing at his shirt.

"I'm so sorry," she said again, her voice genuine as she tried to clean up the mess. "I wasn't paying attention…"

Liam, however, didn't seem bothered. In fact, his expression was unreadable as he watched her wipe at the damp fabric of his shirt.

"It's fine," he said smoothly, lifting a hand to gently push her hand away. "I'll handle it."

With that, he finally removed the other hand that had been resting on her waist.

That was when Dickson realized something.

Liam had never been interested in taking advantage of the situation. He never groped the girl, never lingered longer than necessary, and never acted with lust in his eyes.

This wasn't about the girl.

It was about Kyle.

Liam had simply used her as bait—a means to pull Kyle's aggro.

Dickson gulped.

His friend was not the same Liam from a week ago.

Meanwhile, the girl—completely oblivious to the storm of chaos she had just sparked—finally stood up, still looking remorseful.

"Really, I feel terrible," she said. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

Liam tilted his head slightly, playing thoughtful. Then, with a light chuckle, he said,

"A date, maybe?"

He was joking, of course. He had only meant to tease her a little, just to see how she'd react.

But then—

"Done."

Liam blinked.

Wait.

Did she just agree?

Before he could process it, she handed him her phone.

"Here," she said casually, "put your number in."

Liam hesitated for a split second, then took the phone and typed in his number. He handed it back, still half-convinced she was messing with him.

"I'll call you," she said with a small smile before turning away, walking off to clean her own clothes.

Liam watched her leave, clicking his tongue in genuine surprise.

"Tch."

He honestly didn't think she'd take him seriously. He had expected her to laugh, maybe call him a flirt and walk away. But instead, she just… agreed.

Dickson, still seated beside him, stared at him in horror.

"Bro…" Dickson finally said. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Liam just smirked. "What? I asked, she said yes."

Dickson rubbed his face with both hands. "Dude. Do you not see the problem here?"

Liam tilted his head, playing dumb. "What problem?"

And then—

A cold, murderous aura washed over them.

Liam barely had to turn his head to know who it was.

Kyle.

He had left the football pitch, still in his uniform, and was marching straight toward them.

His face was dark, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Veins were bulging on his forehead. His eyes were completely locked onto Liam.

And then—

Dickson immediately panicked.

"Oh, shit," he whispered. "Liam, run."

Meanwhile, across the field, Sam was also panicking.

"Kyle!" Sam called out, trying to grab his friend's arm. "Don't do anything stupid!"

But Kyle wasn't listening. His entire mind was laser-focused on one thing: beating Liam into the ground.

---

Earlier That Day…

Before heading to the football field, Kyle, Sam, Daryl, and Jack had held a private meeting in an empty classroom.

The topic?

Liam.

"He's back," Kyle had said, his voice low and irritated.

Daryl leaned back in his chair, looking completely unbothered. "So what?"

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "What if he remembers?"

The room fell silent.

They all knew what he meant.

If Liam remembered who was responsible for his accident, things could get messy.

Jack finally broke the silence, scoffing. "So what if he does? Nobody was there. He has no proof. If he accuses us, we just deny it."

Daryl nodded. "Yeah. It's not like anyone's gonna take his word over ours."

Sam, however, didn't look so convinced. He glanced at Kyle, then at the others before speaking cautiously.

"Don't you guys think this is weird?" he asked.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "What's weird?"

Sam leaned forward, lowering his voice.

"He was almost dead a week ago," he said. "And now he's back at school, completely fine? Not just fine, but… better."

The others fell quiet again.

Kyle's jaw tightened.

"…What are you trying to say?" he muttered.

Sam exhaled. "I don't know, man. I just feel like something's off."

Daryl, clearly annoyed, rolled his eyes. "Dude, who cares what happened? Maybe he got lucky. Maybe he got some expensive-ass surgery. Either way, it doesn't matter."

He leaned forward, eyes dark with confidence.

"No matter what, he's still the same weak coward he's always been."

Kyle didn't say anything.

At least, not until he saw Liam with his crush.

Sitting on his lap.

With Liam's hands on her waist.

Something snapped.

---

Present Time…

Kyle was getting closer.

His footsteps were heavy, fast, and furious.

Dickson grabbed Liam's arm. "Liam. Bro. Move."

Liam, however, remained seated.

He watched Kyle approach, completely unshaken.

Then, just as Kyle was only a few feet away—

Liam smiled.

And that was when Kyle snapped.