CHAPTER 8: GAME ON
1163 Words
"Game On"
Mia had spent the entire day masterfully dodging Haze.
She switched hallways when she spotted him. Took the long way to class. Even hid behind a ridiculously large potted plant at one point. It was exhausting—but necessary.
Because every time she did catch a glimpse of him, he was grinning. That same cocky, irritating, all-knowing grin that made her want to throw something at his stupidly perfect face.
Unfortunately, her victory was short-lived.
Because by the end of the day, she walked straight into her worst nightmare.
Haze. Blocking. The. Doorway.
The late afternoon sun streamed through the open windows, casting long shadows on the tiled floor. The hallway was mostly empty, save for a few students lingering near their lockers. It should have been the perfect moment for Mia to escape unnoticed. But, of course, he was there.
Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking like he had been waiting for this exact moment all day.
Mia came to an abrupt stop, her heart slamming into her ribs.
She debated her options.
1. Turn around and take the long way. (Again.)
2. Pretend she didn’t see him. (Wouldn’t work.)
3. Walk past him and act completely unaffected.
She took a deep breath and went with Option 3.
Big mistake.
The second she got close, Haze shifted, blocking her path entirely.
Mia huffed, crossing her arms. “Move.”
Haze tilted his head, smirk firmly in place. "Mia. It’s been a whole day. You miss me?"
Mia gave him the flattest look imaginable. "I miss peace."
His smirk widened. "Avoiding me won’t erase what happened, you know."
Her entire body tensed. "What happened? Nothing happened."
Haze leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. "Oh? Because I distinctly remember someone making the room uninhabitable for at least an hour."
Mia died inside.
Her fingers twitched. She could not believe he was bringing it up here. In public. With people walking past them.
Mia narrowed her eyes, tilting her chin up. "You sure you weren’t the one who did it? Blaming me is suspicious."
Haze actually laughed. A real, amused laugh that made something dangerous flip inside her chest. "Nice try. You ran straight to the restroom."
Mia smirked, stepping closer—too close. “And yet, here you are. Talking about it. Almost like you enjoyed it.”
For the first time since this whole thing started, he didn’t have a comeback.
She saw it. The split-second hesitation. The flicker of surprise in his stormy blue eyes.
Gotcha.
Mia realized something then.
Haze was only this confident because she kept reacting.
So what if she played along instead?
Instead of running away, what if she messed with him right back?
A slow, mischievous grin spread across her lips. She could turn this around.
Haze raised an eyebrow. “What’s that look for?”
Mia shrugged, brushing past him deliberately close as she stepped inside the rehearsal room. “Nothing."
But the game had changed.
---
During rehearsal, Mia tested her theory.
At first, it was just a theory—a little experiment to see how far she could push Haze before he cracked. But the results were more entertaining than she could have imagined.
It started small.
A whisper here.
A lingering glance there.
Mia was having way too much fun.
A brush of her fingers against his wrist when she handed him the script.
And oh, it was working.
Because Haze—usually the human embodiment of cocky self-assurance—was struggling.
At first, he kept up his usual act. Smirking. Rolling his eyes. Throwing sarcastic remarks like verbal grenades.
But the more she played along, the worse he got.
Like now.
They were practicing a scene, just another line exchange, nothing remotely romantic, but Mia had other plans.
She leaned in as she delivered her next line, her voice soft, almost sultry. "You always say that, but I don’t believe you."
Her breath ghosted against his skin, too close.
Haze went rigid. His jaw ticked.
Mia bit back a victorious smile.
"Is that so?" Haze shot back, voice level, but she noticed his fingers tightening around the script. "Maybe you should start listening better."
Mia gasped, feigning offense. "Oh? So now I’m the problem?"
"Obviously."
Mia tsked. "That’s a bold accusation."
She took another step closer, their shoulders nearly touching, her head tilting just enough to make it look intentional.
She saw it.
The way his Adam’s apple bobbed.
The way he exhaled a little too sharply.
Haze shifted like he was trying to move away—but there was nowhere to go.
She was winning.
And it felt amazing.
Miss Aurora, their theater director, clasped her hands together, beaming. "Now this is chemistry! The tension, the energy—it’s perfect! You two should perform together more often!"
Mia grinned. "Oh, I’d love that."
Haze turned to her, eyes narrowing slightly. "Would you?"
Mia winked. "Of course. You’re so easy to read, after all."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face.
Then—
A sharp, mocking laugh cut through the moment.
Kierra.
Mia didn’t even have to look to know the girl was smirking.
"Wow," Kierra drawled, crossing her arms. "Didn’t know desperation was part of your character development, Mia."
Mia felt the heat creep up her neck.
Here we go again.
Kierra never missed an opportunity to take a jab at her. It was exhausting, really.
Before she could come up with a retort, a voice beside her spoke first.
"That’s funny," Kindrew said smoothly. "I was just thinking how dedicated she is to the role."
Mia turned, blinking up at him.
Kindrew, tall, effortlessly cool, and annoyingly attractive, stood beside her with a lazy grin, his hands tucked into his pockets.
Kierra’s expression faltered for a second before she rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. "Whatever."
Mia exhaled, feeling the tension ease. "Thanks for that."
Kindrew shrugged. "It’s nothing." Then, with a casual smile, he added, "By the way, Mia, I’m heading to the gym on Saturday. Want to come? Might help with endurance for these rehearsals."
Mia blinked. "Oh, that actually sounds—"
"—We already have plans on Saturday, Mia. Remember?"
The voice came from behind her.
Low. Unamused.
Mia turned her head slightly, and—oh.
Haze.
Expression unreadable.
Arms crossed.
A hint of something dangerously close to irritation flashing in his blue eyes.
Mia smirked. "Do we?"
Haze didn’t blink. "Yeah. We do."
Kindrew raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t comment. "Well, if you change your mind, the offer’s still open."
With that, he walked away, leaving Mia standing between a smirking Kindrew and an unamused Haze.
Mia tapped her chin. "Plans, huh?"
Haze held her gaze, voice flat. "Don’t push it, Mia."
She grinned.
Oh, but where’s the fun in that?
She's just applying her muse playbook.
---
- Writer
