In his crossfire

CHAPTER FIVE:*Sparks and glances*

Over the next few days, Amara noticed Eli finding ways to be around her — offering help with homework, “accidentally” bumping into her in the hallways, texting just to check in.

Zayne, on the other hand, stayed distant in class but always seemed to be watching, as if waiting for the right moment.

One afternoon, while working on their project, Amara caught Zayne’s eyes lingering a little longer than before. She quickly looked away, her cheeks warming.

Suddenly, Eli’s voice broke the quiet. “You two seem pretty cozy.”

Amara blinked, unsure how to respond.

Zayne’s reply was cold but calm. “We’re just working.”

Eli smirked, but there was a sharp edge in his tone. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

Amara felt the tension crackling between them like electricity — confusing, thrilling, and a little scary all at once.

She wondered… what was she really getting into?

Zayne stood up angrily and when he was about he leaving,Amara broke the silence and spoke to him She raised an eyebrow, sensing the unspoken challenge. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Research done by Wednesday. Drafts by Thursday. Final on Friday. No excuses,” Zayne said, voice low but firm.

Amara nodded, biting back a grin. “Sounds like you’re running a tight ship.”

Eli crossed his arms, voice dripping with annoyance. “Watch your tone, newbie. You don’t own the place.”

Zayne’s expression hardened. “Stay out of this, Eli.”

Amara noticed the sharp edge in Zayne’s voice, a warning she hadn’t heard before.

Eli leaned closer to Amara, lowering his voice, “Be careful. Getting close to him... it’s not what you want.”

Amara looked at Eli, surprised by the protective tone. “And why’s that?”

Eli’s eyes darkened. “Because he’s trouble.”

Zayne caught the exchange and stood abruptly, pushing back his chair. “Enough,” he said, voice low but commanding. “We work together, or not at all. You want to protect her, Eli? Prove it by staying out of my way.”

Eli’s glare met Zayne’s but he backed down. Amara’s heart pounded — caught in the the middle of two guys with very different sides of the same coin.

Zayne grabbed his bag and turned to Amara. “Meet me at the library after school. We start there.”

As he walked away, Amara glanced at Eli, who looked away quickly, hiding his frustration.

---

The library was quiet — not just silent, but heavy with the kind of stillness that made every movement feel louder than it should. Amara sat at the corner table Zayne had mentioned, her notebook open, pen tapping absently as she waited.

He showed up right on time, dropped his bag onto the seat across from her, and slid into the chair without a word.

She raised an eyebrow. “No ‘hey’ or ‘hi’? Wow, you’re really setting the tone here.”

Zayne didn’t look up from his notes. “I said we’d work. That’s what we’re doing.”

Amara smirked. “You know, you might scare less people if you were a little more… human.”

He glanced at her then, sharp and unreadable. “Scaring people has its advantages.”

She leaned back, arms crossed. “So what? You enjoy being the guy everyone whispers about in the halls?”

Zayne paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “I don’t care what they say. People always talk. Doesn’t mean they know anything.”

His tone was steady, but there was something behind it — something closed-off, maybe even defensive.

Amara tilted her head. “And what if someone actually wanted to know?”

He met her eyes — no smirk, no smugness, just quiet intensity. “Then they should know what they’re getting into.”

Amara blinked, not expecting that honesty. “You say that like you’re dangerous.”

“I am.”

She laughed, but it died quickly when she saw he wasn’t joking. “Zayne…”

“Look,” he said, voice dropping lower, “I don’t do friends. I don’t do small talk. You don’t need to figure me out. You just need to hold up your end of this project.”

Amara exhaled slowly, nodding. “Fine. We’ll keep it professional.”

Zayne nodded back, pulling out his notes. “Good.”

But for the next few minutes, as they worked in silence, Amara caught him stealing glances at her — not the usual cold, distant look — but something closer to curiosity.

And though she told herself to ignore it, part of her wanted to look back.