In his crossfire

CHAPTER ELEVEN:*Shadows in the stack*

Amara lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, Lila's teasing voice still echoing in her ears:

"You sure there’s nothing going on between you and Zayne? Because the way he looked at you today—girl, that wasn’t just science project chemistry."

She groaned and covered her face with a pillow. “No. Nope. Not doing this.”

But she wasdoing it—thinking about him. Again.

That intense stare, the way his jaw tightened when she spoke back, and that moment… that flash of something soft in his eyes before he snapped back to being cold again.

And then there was Eli—always there, always sweet. But lately, something about him felt… off. Nothing concrete, just a gut feeling she couldn’t shake.

Her phone buzzed. Zayne: “We still working on the project after school?”

Amara stared at the message. Short. Distant. Typical Zayne. And yet, she typed back:

“Yeah. Library. Don’t be late.”

Part of her hoped he wouldn’t show.

The other part knew he would.

And that was the part she didn’t trust anymore.

---

Amara sat at a corner table in the school library, her notes spread out in front of her, though she hadn't really been reading them. She kept glancing at the door, tapping her pen nervously. Zayne was ten minutes late. Typical.

She told herself she didn’t care. That she could do the whole project alone if she had to. But still, she checked the time again.

Just then, the chair across from her scraped loudly.

Zayne.

Black hoodie, earbuds still in, jaw clenched as usual. He didn’t say hi. Just dropped his bag and pulled out a notebook.

“You’re late,” she muttered.

“Got held up,” he replied without looking up.

Before she could snark back, a loud crash echoed from one of the back aisles. Books hit the floor. Then silence.

They both looked up.

The librarian didn’t flinch—she wasn’t even at her desk.

Zayne stood immediately. “Stay here"

She followed him toward the aisle, ignoring his glare. As they turned the corner, her breath caught.

Eli was there.

But he wasn’t alone.

He stood in a shadowy corner, speaking to a guy Amara didn’t recognize. Older. Tall. Covered in tattoos. The stranger shoved something into Eli’s hands—a small black envelope—and whispered something before vanishing between the shelves.

Eli turned and froze.

His eyes met Amara’s.

Her stomach dropped.

---

Eli’s eyes locked with Amara’s for a split second—just long enough for panic to flicker across his face.

“Amara?” he called out, stepping forward with a practiced smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She blinked, heartbeat thudding. Zayne was still beside her, arms folded, gaze sharp.

“I—uh, just came to grab a reference book,” she said, forcing a small, casual shrug. “Zayne forgot to bring his brain, so I figured we’d need extra help.”

Zayne didn’t laugh, but his brow raised, almost impressed.

Eli chuckled. “Always the comedian.” He slipped the black envelope into his backpack like it was nothing. “You guys working on your project?”

“Trying to,” Zayne said flatly.

Amara could feel his eyes flicking between her and Eli, catching the tension in the air. She gave Eli a quick nod and tugged Zayne’s sleeve. “We’ll just head back.”

They turned, walking away without another word.

Amara didn’t say anything until they were seated again. Even then, she kept her voice steady.

“So. Ready to focus?”

Zayne narrowed his eyes at her, clearly sensing something was off.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, even as her stomach twisted.

She wasn't okay.

Because Eli was hiding something. And now she too was.