Jax's Little Obsession

Chapter 12

Maya’s Pov

The large bulletin board in the main hallway is surrounded by a loud crowd of students, all pointing and talking over one another. I push my way through the shoulder-to-shoulder bodies to see what all the fuss is about. Pinned right in the middle of the board is a bright flyer with bold letters: ANNUAL ENGINEERING INNOVATION CHALLENGE.

My eyes lock onto the details below. The challenge requires students to design and build a high-performance mechanical system using only a restricted box of scrap materials within a strict forty-eight-hour time limit. The winning team gets a major cash prize, university-wide recognition, and a golden spot on the department’s elite research board.

A thrill of pure excitement shoots straight through me. This is my chance. If I win this competition, nobody on this entire campus will ever dare call me a charity case or a fake student again. My talent will speak for itself.

“You are actually considering this,” Ava says beside me, reading my expression instead of the poster. “I can see it on your face.”

“I am not just considering it,” I say. “I am doing it. This is exactly the kind of thing that proves I belong here, that this is not about Jax or his money or anything else people are whispering about. This is about what I can actually build.”

Ava shifts closer, lowering her voice so the students around us won’t overhear. “Are you sure, Maya? Forty-eight hours is brutal. And the scrap-box rule means half the usual tools are off-limits. Most teams that enter have been prepping for weeks.”

“I know,” I answer, still staring at the flyer. “But I’ve built more with less in my uncle’s garage. Remember that old transmission I rebuilt last summer with nothing but a socket set and some leftover steel? This is the same principle, just under a spotlight.”

“Then I am in too,” Ava says immediately. “I am terrible with materials budgeting, but I can help with calculations and documentation. We would make a good team.”

“Deal,” I say, and for the first time in days, I feel something other than exhaustion from dodging whispers and cold stares.

Ava grins and bumps my shoulder. “We’re going to need a solid concept by tonight. Gear ratios, torque transfer, something that looks impressive under load. I’ll start sketching stress points if you handle the scrap inventory list.”

“Perfect. Meet me in the library after last class?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, look who decided to show up for the s*******r,” a familiar, mocking voice drawls from behind me.

I roll my eyes and turn around. Dakota stands there with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, wearing his usual arrogant smirk. He looks down at the flyer, then back at me, his eyes sparkling with mean amusement.

“You actually thinking about entering this, little mechanic?” Dakota asks, laughing softly. “This is an elite university competition, not a junkyard garage. You are going to be completely out of your depth.”

Ava folds her arms. “She’s more than capable, Dakota. Maybe you should worry about your own project instead of ours.”

Dakota ignores her completely, eyes fixed on me. “Come on, Maya. Be honest. You really think a couple of days with leftover scrap is going to impress the judges? They’re looking for precision engineering, not backyard improvisation.”

“Try me, Dakota,” I snap back, stepping right up to him so he knows I am not backing down. “Or are you just scared that a girl from a normal background is going to wipe the floor with you?”

Dakota’s smirk slips for a second, replaced by a flash of sharp surprise before his dark eyes narrow with interest. He looks me up and down like he is suddenly seeing a completely different person. “Is that so? Well, I am entering too. Let us see how tough you talk when I leave you in the dust.”

“You’ve never left me in the dust before,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Why start now?”

He leans in just enough that only I can hear. “Because this time the whole department is watching. And I don’t lose in public.”

“I am looking forward to it,” I say coldly, turning my back on him.

Ava catches up as we walk away from the crowd. “He’s going to be a problem. You saw the way he looked at you.”

“I saw it,” I mutter. “Doesn’t change anything. We’re still entering.”

Later that afternoon, I am sitting at a quiet table in the library when Jax appears out of nowhere, pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down without asking. He leans his elbows on the table, watching me closely.

“I heard you are entering the engineering challenge,” Jax says, his voice low and serious. “And I heard Dakota is entering too.”

I keep my pencil moving across the page. “News travels fast around here.”

“It does when my brother’s involved.” Jax’s tone tightens. “He’s already talking about how easy it’s going to be to beat ‘the scholarship girl and her friend.’”

“Good. Let him,” I say, not looking up from my notebook as I sketch out a gear ratio. “I am not afraid of him.”

Jax exhales through his nose. “You should be a little afraid. Not of his skills—of what he’ll do if he thinks you’re actually competitive.”

“Do not underestimate Dakota, Maya,” Jax warns, his jaw tightening slightly. “He plays dirty when he feels threatened. If he realizes you are a real threat to his winning streak, he will try to sabotage your project.”

I stop sketching and look up, narrowing my eyes at him. A sudden, mischievous thought pops into my head, and I tilt my head with a small, teasing smile. “What’s the matter, Jax? Are you jealous that another guy is paying attention to me?”

Jax freezes. For a split second, his dark eyes widen. Then, a sudden, loud laugh escapes his lips—though it sounds a little too sharp, a little too forced.

“Jealous?” Jax scoffs, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair. “Do not flatter yourself, Maya. I am just warning you so you do not get burned. Keep your distance from him. Do not let Dakota get close enough to use you.”

“Use me how, exactly?” I ask, closing the notebook halfway. “By talking trash in the hallway? I’ve heard worse.”

“By getting under your skin. By making you reactive. That’s how he wins—he pushes until people make mistakes.”

“I can take care of myself,” I tell him firmly, slamming my notebook shut. “And just so you know, I am partnering with Ava. I am not letting you or your brother control my decisions.”

Jax’s smile completely vanishes. A flash of dark, heavy irritation crosses his sharp features. He stands up so fast his chair scrapes loudly against the library floor. He hates that he cannot control every single thing I do.

“You’re being stubborn,” he says quietly.

“I’m being independent. There’s a difference.”

“Do whatever you want,” Jax mutters coldly, turning on his heel and walking away between the bookshelves.

I watch him go, my heart doing a weird little flip in my chest. He claims he is not jealous, but the look in his eyes told a completely different story.