KEIFER'S POV — THE CALL UP
When the summons came, the room didn't buzz.
It went quiet.
"Jasper Jean Mariano. Mark Keifer Watson," the office aide said flatly. "Administration. Now."
I stood first—not because I was eager, but because I was expected to. Section E's representative. The shield. The scapegoat if things went south.
Jay didn't look at me when she rose.
She didn't need to.
We walked side by side down the corridor, the aftermath of yesterday still clinging to the walls. Whispers followed. Eyes tracked us. The school hadn't decided yet whether this was punishment or spectacle.
I knew better.
Administration never called you in to applaud.
Miss P's office door was already open.
And standing just inside—
I stopped.
The moment I saw him, my jaw locked.
Michael Angelo Fernandez.
Not a stranger.
Not a legend.
A ghost.
Older now. Sharper. The kind of man time didn't soften—only refined. Black coat. Calm eyes. The same presence that used to make an entire hallway shut up without him saying a word.
Miss P looked nervous.
That alone told me everything.
Jay walked in like she owned the place.
She didn't hesitate. Didn't ask permission. She stopped beside Angelo, and he rested a hand on her shoulder—protective, familiar.
Family.
Of course.
Angelo's eyes lifted and met mine.
No surprise.
No curiosity.
Just recognition.
"So," he said calmly. "Watson."
Not Mr.
Not President.
Just my name.
The way he used to say it when I was fourteen and angry and didn't know how to stop breaking things.
"Fernandez," I replied.
The room felt smaller.
Miss P cleared her throat too loudly. "Please… sit. Both of you."
Jay stayed standing.
Angelo sat—but it wasn't submission. It was strategy.
Miss P folded her hands. "This meeting is regarding yesterday's… altercation."
"Call it what it was," Angelo said evenly. "An attempted humiliation that failed."
Her lips tightened. "Jay escalated—"
"No," Angelo interrupted, eyes never leaving mine. "She ended it."
Jay leaned against the desk, arms crossed, unbothered.
Miss P turned to me. "Keifer, as Section E's representative—"
I answered before she finished.
"Section E didn't touch her."
Angelo's gaze sharpened slightly.
"And did she lie?" he asked.
"No."
"Threaten first?"
"No."
"Lose control?"
I exhaled through my nose. "No."
Miss P's fingers curled into the desk.
Jay tilted her head, amused.
Angelo finally looked away from me and back at Miss P.
"You called me because you thought this would scare her," he said quietly. "Or shame her."
He leaned forward just enough to be felt.
"You forget who raised her."
Silence pressed down hard.
Miss P tried again. "Angelo… your history here—"
"My history," he said softly, "is why you have half the policies you do."
That shut her up.
He stood slowly.
And then—he looked at me again.
Longer this time.
"You're holding Section E together," he said, not praising, not criticizing. Just stating fact.
I didn't respond.
"You always did like carrying weight," he continued. "Even when it cuts."
Jay glanced at me for the first time since we walked in.
Not mocking.
Not challenging.
Measuring.
Angelo turned back to Miss P. "This meeting's over."
She swallowed. "I—I still have to file—"
"You'll file that Jasper Jean Mariano acted in self-defense," he said. "And that Section E complied."
A pause.
"If you don't," he added calmly, "I'll remind the board why my name still echoes in this building."
Miss P nodded.
Fast.
We turned to leave.
At the door, Angelo stopped.
Didn't turn around.
"Watson," he said quietly.
I halted.
"You hate my brother" he continued. "And I don't blame you."
Aries.
My jaw tightened.
"But don't make the mistake of thinking that gives you control over her."
Jay didn't look back.
She didn't need to.
Angelo finished, voice low and final.
"She's not a piece on your board."
A beat.
"She's the player who flips it without even letting anyone know."
The door closed behind them.
And for the first time since becoming president of Section E—
I realized something uncomfortable.
We hadn't been called in to discipline Jay.
We'd been called in to see
who stood behind her.
And it wasn't just Angelo Fernandez.
It was power.
Quiet.
Calculated.
Unapologetic.
And it had just walked back into my school.
---
JAY × KEIFER
The door slammed shut so hard the glass rattled.
Every voice outside died instantly.
Inside, the air was sharp—too tight, too charged to breathe properly.
Jay turned first.
"Don't," she snapped. "Don't look at me like that."
Keifer laughed once—short, humorless. "Like what? Like I just watched you turn the school into a warzone?"
She stepped forward. "You watched because you didn't stop anything."
"Oh, that's rich," he shot back. "You didn't want stopping. You wanted domination."
Her eyes flashed. "I wanted respect."
"You wanted blood," Keifer said, voice rising. "You humiliated her. You crushed her. You enjoyed it."
Jay's jaw tightened. "You think I enjoyed being called a whore?"
Silence cracked.
Then—
"You escalated it," Keifer snapped. "You dragged Section E into your personal vendetta."
"No," she fired back. "Section E was already dragged in the moment they thought I'd break."
She pointed at his chest. "You included."
His temper snapped.
"Don't put this on me," he barked. "I stood there ready to step in—"
"And do what?" she cut in. "Play hero? Save me?"
She laughed bitterly. "I don't need your permission to survive."
"That's not what this is about!" he shouted.
The walls carried it.
Every word echoed.
They knew everyone could hear—and neither cared.
Keifer stepped closer, towering now. "You think power means crushing people until they kneel."
Jay didn't step back.
"You think power means pretending you don't want it," she shot back. "Standing there like a saint while everything burns."
His fists clenched. "I'm trying to keep Section E standing."
"And I'm trying to make sure no one ever dares touch us again," she snapped.
"By becoming worse than them?"
"By becoming untouchable."
They were inches apart now.
"You scared them," Keifer said through his teeth. "Even our own people."
Jay's voice dropped—cold, precise.
"Good."
That hit harder than a slap.
"You don't get to decide that alone," he said.
"I already did," she replied.
He exhaled sharply, anger bleeding into something darker. "You think this ends here? You think admins, families, money—"
"I don't think," Jay interrupted. "I calculate."
She leaned in, eyes burning.
"And here's your problem, President."
She tapped his chest once.
"You want control without consequence."
His voice dropped too. "And you want consequence without caring who gets crushed."
They stared at each other, both breathing hard.
Outside, no one moved. No one spoke.
Finally, Keifer turned away, hand raking through his hair.
"You're a liability," he said quietly.
Jay didn't flinch.
"And you're a coward pretending to be a leader."
That made him turn back.
"What did you say?"
She met his eyes, unblinking.
"You stand in front of Section E," she said. "But you flinch when it's time to bite back."
Silence.
Heavy. Final.
Keifer walked to the door, stopped with his hand on the handle.
"Next time," he said without looking at her, "don't expect me to clean up your mess."
Jay's voice followed him—steady, lethal.
"Next time, don't expect permission."
The door flew open.
The hallway exploded into noise.
And Section E knew one thing for sure:
Whatever Jay and Keifer were—
They were no longer on the same side...