Chapter 3: Whispers of Resentment
Southwood High – Tuesday Afternoon
The high from talking to Serena hasn't even worn off yet. But, of course, the world doesn't let me have nice things.
I can feel it before I even hear it—the shift in energy, the way the air thickens around me.
Something's changed.
And then it starts.
"Steins?"
"With Serena?"
"No way. That guy's a nobody."
…Oh. So that's how it is.
I keep walking, pretending I don't hear it, pretending I don't see the way people suddenly take notice of me.
It's not admiration. It's not curiosity.
It's resentment.
Not that I should be surprised.
I glance around casually, and yeah—there it is. Side-eyes from people who wouldn't have even acknowledged my existence yesterday. A group of guys near the lockers pause mid-conversation, sharing smirks that scream "Did you hear?" before one of them glances my way.
I know that look.
I've seen it before.
It's the "Why him?" look.
The look that says, This isn't how the world works. This isn't how the hierarchy is supposed to be.
And here I thought I was invisible. Guess not.
---
The Weight of Their Words
It starts slow.
A whisper here. A chuckle there.
Then it builds.
"How did he worm his way in?"
"He's always been a nobody."
"Think he'll get lucky?"
Oh, shut up.
My fingers twitch at my sides, but I force them to stay still. I could turn around. I could snap back. But what's the point?
Logic won't work on people like this.
They don't care why Serena talked to me. They don't care about the context.
They only care that someone who isn't them got her attention.
And now, I'm the guy in their way.
...Great.
---
Classroom Walls
By the time I step into my next class, I swear I can still feel their eyes boring into my back.
I slide into my seat, setting my bag down with more force than necessary.
Get it together. It's fine.
Except it's not.
Even in here, the air feels off. The usual quiet buzz of students settling in is still there, but now? Now, there are stolen glances in my direction. Conversations that lower in volume the moment I sit down.
Nothing direct. Nothing obvious.
But it's there.
I stare at my desk, willing my brain to just tune it all out.
But I can't.
I've always been good at blending in—at being background noise. It was easier that way.
But now? Now, they notice me.
And they don't like it.
---
A Test of Resolve
A chair scrapes against the floor.
I look up.
Jason Carter.
Oh, of course.
The last person I wanted to deal with right now.
He doesn't sit at his usual spot. No, he deliberately chooses the seat beside me, all casual-like, as if it's just a coincidence.
It's not.
I already know how this is going to go.
Jason leans back in his chair, arms crossed, a smirk playing at his lips.
"Didn't know you and Serena were close," he says, voice low.
…Here we go.
I don't respond. Not yet. Just let the silence stretch between us.
Jason chuckles, tapping his fingers against the desk. Like he's enjoying this.
"Relax, Steins," he says. "We're all just… curious."
Yeah. Curious.
That's one way to put it.
Because this isn't curiosity. This isn't a simple "Hey, how do you know Serena?"
This is a power move.
Jason—like every other guy in this school who thrives on status—doesn't like disruptions.
And somehow, by simply existing in the same conversation as Serena, I've disrupted something.
I'm not part of their social game, yet here I am, messing with the scoreboard.
That? That pisses people like him off.
---
A Silent Decision
I meet his gaze.
For a brief second, the air between us tightens.
A quiet standoff.
And then?
I look away.
Not out of weakness. Not out of fear.
Out of disinterest.
Jason Carter doesn't matter to me.
And nothing pisses guys like him off more than being ignored.
I can feel his smirk falter—just slightly.
"Careful, Steins," he murmurs, pushing back his chair as the bell rings. "Wouldn't want you getting too comfortable."
He walks away without looking back.
I exhale.
The tension lingers.
Yeah.
This isn't over.
It's only just begun.