JAY'S POV — P.E. PERIOD
The bell rang sharp and loud.
Chairs scraped. Bags thudded shut. The classroom dissolved into movement as everyone stood at once.
P.E.
Of course.
I grabbed my jacket and stood, already angling toward the door. I didn't rush. Didn't linger either.
That's when I saw him.
Keifer.
By the lockers near the back—shirt already off, vest halfway over his head.
The black fabric clung for half a second before sliding down, revealing muscle carved with intention. Broad shoulders.
Defined arms. Veins faint but visible. The kind of body built not for show—but for dominance.
He wasn't posing.
That made it worse.
I stopped without meaning to.
Just for a second.
Not admiration.
Assessment.
Then—like he felt it—Keifer looked up.
Caught me.
Right there.
Watching.
A slow grin spread across his face as he tugged the vest down properly, adjusting it like he had all the time in the world.
"I know I look good, Mariano," he said lazily, voice carrying just enough. "Don't drool over me. "
The room reacted instantly.
"OHHH—" "Damn, Keifer—" "She got caught." "Did you see her face?"
Laughter bounced off the walls. Someone wolf-whistled. Cin clapped Keifer on the shoulder. Rory smirked openly.
They expected it.
Expected me to flinch.
Look away.
Flush.
I didn't.
I tilted my head slightly, eyes raking over him once more—slow, deliberate, clinical.
Then I smiled.
Not sweet.
Sharp.
"Don't flatter yourself, Watson," I said calmly, already turning toward the door. "I've seen better."
The laughter died mid-breath.
A couple of boys choked on it.
"What—" "She—" "Did she just—?"
Keifer's grin froze.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Enough.
I didn't wait for a response.
I walked out.
Boots steady. Back straight. Jacket slung over my shoulder like nothing had touched me.
Behind me, the noise exploded again—but different this time.
"That was cold." "She didn't even hesitate." "She just cooked him."
I didn't look back.
Didn't need to.
Because I felt it.
Keifer's eyes on my back.
Burning.
Not amused anymore.
Interested.
Dangerously so.
And that was the problem.
---
KEIFER'S POV —
She didn't miss a beat.
Not one.
No stutter.
No heat.
No reaction.
Just a clean cut straight through my ego—in front of everyone.
Cin laughed under his breath. "She got you."
I ignored him.
Watched the door she'd walked through.
That wasn't luck.
That wasn't attitude.
That was instinct sharpened by war.
Yuri glanced at me. "You alright?"
I exhaled slowly.
Yeah.
I was more than alright.
Because now I knew something important.
Jay Jay wasn't impressed by power.
She challenged it.
And she didn't run from attention—
She weaponized it.
I smiled again.
But this time—
There was no humor in it.
"Game on," I muttered.
And somewhere ahead of us—
Jay was already changing into her P.E. kit.
Unaware.
Or pretending to be.
Either way—
The trap was closing.
And neither of us intended to be the one caught...
The basketball court was split down the middle with cones.
Section A took the far half near the windows. Section E owned the side closer to the equipment room—benches, racks, shadows.
The air smelled like rubber soles and sweat.
We were mid–warm-up when it happened.
Both P.E. teachers' phones rang almost at the same time. A glance between them. A muttered curse.
"Section A, continue stretches," one said.
"Section E—sit. Five minutes," the other added.
And then they were gone.
The door shut.
The sound echoed.
The court changed instantly.
Benches creaked as Section E dropped down. Phones appeared like magic. Laughter slouched loose and careless. Someone bounced a ball once—too hard—just to hear it echo.
I sat on the edge of the bench, calm on the surface, alert underneath.
That's when—
Cin moved.
Fast.
My phone was gone before my fingers even registered the absence.
"Hey—" I snapped, already standing.
Cin grinned, already sprinting backward across the court, my phone raised high.
"Relax, Mariano! Just checking something."
"You touch that," I said evenly, "and you lose the hand."
He laughed and took off.
Instinct kicked in.
I ran.
Shoes squealed against polished wood as I closed the distance. Laughter followed me—sharp, eager, predatory.
And then—
My foot caught.
No.
Someone put it there.
Keifer.
He didn't shove. Didn't grab.
He just extended his leg at the perfect angle—casual, almost lazy.
I went down hard.
The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. Palms stung. Knee burned.
Laughter exploded.
"Damn—"
"She ate that."
"President with the assist."
Cin slowed, laughing so hard he nearly dropped my phone.
Keifer stood over me, hands on his hips, amused.
"Careful, Mariano," he said lightly. "Court's slippery."
I looked up at him.
Didn't rush. Didn't curse.
I smiled.
That made his laugh hesitate.
I rolled to my side smoothly, planted one foot, and pushed up just as Cin turned to run again.
Keifer shifted—instinctively—to move out of the way.
That was his mistake.
I hooked my foot behind his ankle and twisted my body sideways.
Not strength.
Timing.
Keifer went down.
Harder than I had.
The sound was loud—body hitting wood, a sharp thud followed by surprised gasps.
The laughter died.
Cin froze mid-step, staring.
Keifer slid a little on impact, palm scraping the floor. Shock flashed across his face before he could mask it.
I was already on my feet.
Phone snatched clean from Cin's hand as I passed him.
"Thanks," I said calmly.
Silence.
Section A had stopped stretching.
Every head turned.
I looked down at Keifer—still on the floor, jaw tight, eyes dark now.
I crouched just enough so only he could hear me.
"You trip me," I said quietly, voice steady, "you better be ready to fall with me."
Then I stood.
Walked back to the bench.
Sat.
Checked my phone like nothing had happened.
Behind me, whispers buzzed—uneasy now.
Keifer pushed himself up slowly.
No laughter this time.
Just tension.
I didn't look at him again.
Didn't need to.
Because I felt it.
That shift.
The game had crossed from playful to personal.
And Keifer Watson had just learned something he didn't like at all.
I don't stay down.
And I don't forget who tries to put me there...