Love Yet Unspoken

The Brentwood Private High School cafeteria was renowned for its exquisite cuisine and spacious ambiance. Its lavish buffet alone was enough to make students from other schools green with envy. At this very moment, the cafeteria bustled with life—some students animatedly discussed the latest sports news, others buried their heads in last-minute exam revisions, while a few simply lounged around, savoring the leisure of a midday break.

Ethan Cross strolled in with his tray, whistling a lighthearted tune as he scanned the room.

"So, where are we sitting today?" asked Steve, his teammate, balancing a plate piled high with steak as he followed closely behind.

"Do you even need to ask?" Ethan's gaze instantly locked onto a quiet table in the corner. As expected, his target sat there, elegantly prodding at her salad with a fork.

"—Isabella, of course."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Again? Man, I'm starting to think she's domesticated you into a loyal puppy."

"What nonsense." Ethan chuckled, giving Steve a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm merely a responsible student, making sure my tutor has my study materials ready."

"Right, right. Keep telling yourself that." Steve sighed, resigned, as he trailed after Ethan toward Isabella.

—

Isabella Laurent, the school's reigning academic queen, was engrossed in her textbook as she absentmindedly nibbled on her lunch.

Her meal was the very antithesis of Ethan's—his tray was stacked with fried chicken, burgers, and a generous helping of fries, while hers contained nothing but a neatly arranged portion of grilled chicken breast and fresh salad. A picture of self-discipline and healthy eating.

At the sight of Ethan approaching, Isabella blinked in mild surprise before letting out a small sigh. "You again."

"What do you mean again?" Ethan raised a brow as he slid into the seat across from her. "This is a public cafeteria. I have every right to sit here."

"This section is usually reserved for the academic committee," she replied flatly, flipping through her notes. "Are you sure a student this close to being banned from competing should be sitting here?"

"Ouch. No faith in me at all, huh?" Ethan smirked as he speared a piece of chicken. "I'll have you know, I actually reviewed your notes last night."

"Oh?" Isabella finally looked up, skepticism lacing her gaze. "Then tell me—what's the fundamental definition of a derivative?"

"Uh… derivative?" Ethan's fork hovered midair. "It's… um… the evolution of numbers?"

"Wrong."

"Their transformation?"

"Still wrong."

"Uh… okay, fine. I have no idea." He shrugged, flashing a sheepish grin.

Isabella let out an exasperated sigh, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Did you even look at the notes?"

"Of course I did! I even highlighted the important parts!" Ethan insisted. "I just… might not have fully absorbed them."

"And where exactly are these important parts?"

"Hmm…" Ethan's lips curled into a mischievous grin as he pulled out his phone and opened a photo of his notes.

Isabella glanced down—and her expression immediately darkened. The entire page was drenched in neon highlighter, chaotic scribbles crammed into every inch of the margins. To top it off, in one corner, he had doodled a tiny stick figure with a professor's hat, captioned: "Professor Davis (currently angry)."

"ETHAN!!!" Isabella slammed the table, momentarily rendered speechless by sheer frustration.

"Whoa, whoa! Calm down, princess." Ethan quickly raised both hands in surrender. "Didn't you always say that learning should be engaging? I'm just… personalizing my study experience."

"This is not engagement! This is nonsense!" she huffed, glaring daggers at him.

"No, no, this is art." Ethan grinned. "Look, I even drew a little you reading a book. Isn't it adorable?"

"You—!!!" Isabella choked on her words, flustered beyond reason. In a last-ditch effort to ignore him, she stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork and chomped down aggressively.

Ethan watched her puffed-up cheeks as she chewed furiously and chuckled. "You know, you look kinda cute when you're mad."

"Shut up."

—

After lunch, the two strolled toward their next classes, the stone pathway dappled with sunlight filtering through the trees. A soft breeze swept by, carrying with it the crisp scent of autumn leaves.

"What classes do you have next?" Ethan asked, taking a sip of his juice.

"Chemistry and economics," Isabella replied, flipping through her book as she walked. "Then I have a meeting with the academic committee in the afternoon."

"Damn. Life of a scholar sounds exhausting." Ethan smirked. "So, do you still have time to tutor me tonight?"

"Are you actually planning to study?" Isabella stopped in her tracks and eyed him suspiciously. "Or is this just another excuse to spend time with me?"

Ethan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, a slow, teasing grin spread across his face. "And what if I said it was the latter?"

A faint blush crept onto Isabella's cheeks. "You… stop joking around."

"Relax, it's just a joke." Ethan tucked his hands into his pockets, his voice carrying an easy warmth. "But honestly, aside from tutoring… don't you think we should go on a proper date sometime? You are the most sought-after girl in school, after all. It'd be a shame if I didn't at least try to win you over."

Isabella shot him a glare. "Can you ever take anything seriously?"

"Oh, but I am serious." He flashed a lopsided smile, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "If I don't act fast, someone else might snatch you away, and then I'll really regret it."

The flush on her cheeks deepened, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she spun around and quickened her pace toward the classroom. "Idiot. Think whatever you want."

Ethan watched her retreating figure, the corners of his lips curling into a slow, satisfied smirk.