I See You
1060 Words
There were few things Shay hated more than group projects.
One of them was group projects she didn’t sign up for.
“Alright,” Dr. Ramsey’s voice rang out across the lecture hall, clipboard in hand and zero room for negotiation in her tone. “This semester’s case study is partnered. Assigned. No switching, no exceptions.”
A collective groan rippled through the room. Shay’s stomach dipped.
“We’ll be working in pairs for the next three weeks. You’ll build a psychological profile based on a fictional client and present findings together,” Dr. Ramsey continued. “Partners were randomized. Check the screen.”
Shay’s eyes snapped to the projection.
The list rolled out alphabetically. Her finger skimmed names.
James… Knight.
She blinked.
No. No. Absolutely not.
She read it again.
Partner: Shay James & Cairo Knight
Her brain short-circuited for a second. She looked around the room like someone would jump up and yell “Just kidding!”
But no one did.
Behind her, she felt the shift in the air before he spoke.
“Well,” came that familiar low rasp, “guess you’re stuck with me.”
She turned slowly to find Cairo leaning back in his seat, arms folded, gaze locked on her like this wasn’t news to him at all.
She gave a flat look. “Lucky me.”
He smirked. “You don’t look thrilled.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. We’re on the same page.”
And just like that, she was both relieved and irritated. Because somehow, that made it worse.
“Alright,” Dr. Ramsey continued. “You’ll find the client packet in your emails. Schedule your own work sessions. Final presentation is in three weeks. Don’t disappoint me.”
Shay stared at her laptop like it had betrayed her. This was supposed to be an easy semester. Quiet. Uneventful.
Now she had to meet up with Cairo? Alone? And work with him?
It was like the universe had been eavesdropping on her intrusive thoughts.
⸻
They met that weekend in the student library, a far quieter space than the café or the classroom. Shay picked a corner table tucked between rows of psych journals, one that rarely got foot traffic. She liked spaces that made people leave her alone.
But she didn’t feel alone when he showed up.
He walked in with his hoodie hood down, backpack slung low, and a lazy kind of stride. Like the world never rushed him, so he never rushed back.
“You’re early,” he said, dropping into the seat across from her.
“So are you,” she replied, not looking up.
“Yeah, but mine was out of spite.”
Shay glanced at him. “Spite?”
“I figured you’d try to beat me here. Wanted to ruin your plan.”
She blinked. “You’re… weird.”
He smiled. “So I’ve heard.”
She sighed, clicked open the client packet, and tried to focus. “Let’s just get this done.”
Cairo leaned forward, glancing at her screen. “So, our ‘client’ is a 21-year-old male, former foster system kid, recently expelled, multiple fights, no confirmed diagnosis…”
“Sounds familiar,” Shay mumbled.
He raised an eyebrow.
She looked at him. “I meant, like… the foster system. It’s something I’ve… studied.”
He held her gaze. Didn’t blink. Didn’t nod. Just… listened.
“Right,” he said eventually. “Cool.”
They sat in silence for a few beats too long.
Shay busied herself with taking notes, but Cairo didn’t rush. He read slowly, then finally pulled out his own laptop.
“You always take this many notes?” he asked, watching her scribble in a second notebook.
“I like to be thorough.”
He tilted his head. “You like to be in control.”
She paused. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, it’s obvious,” he said, voice low. “You do everything quietly but precisely. The hood, the seat near the wall, the two sets of notes. You’re all about control.”
She stared at him. “Is that a problem?”
“No. Just an observation.”
“Well, here’s one for you,” she said, leaning forward slightly. “You pretend not to care about anything, but you notice everything. Like you’re cataloging the world just in case it tries to bite.”
He blinked, clearly not expecting that.
Shay didn’t look away.
Their eyes locked—equal parts curiosity, challenge, and something else. Something slower. Warmer. Unspoken.
“I guess we both see too much,” he murmured.
She inhaled sharply and leaned back in her chair, needing the space.
They worked for the next hour with a strange sort of rhythm. Cairo wasn’t lazy like she expected—he was smart. Sharp. He made connections Shay hadn’t seen. He read between lines. Asked good questions.
She caught herself staring once.
Only once.
But once was enough.
⸻
After they packed up, Shay hesitated by the table. Cairo was slinging his bag over his shoulder, but not in a rush to leave.
“You walk back this way?” he asked casually.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
They fell into step.
The evening air was cool, the campus quieter now. The sky was soft and streaked with pink and orange, and their footsteps echoed against the sidewalk.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what’s your deal?”
Shay glanced at him. “My deal?”
“Yeah. Why’re you always looking like you’re about to bolt? Like you don’t trust people.”
She frowned. “That’s rich coming from you.”
He laughed, the sound deep and surprisingly warm. “Touché.”
They walked a few more steps.
“I transferred here,” Shay said, eventually. “Mid-year. Needed a reset.”
“From what?”
She shrugged. “A mess.”
He nodded, accepting the answer without digging. “Fair.”
A pause.
“Same,” he said.
That was all he gave. But Shay knew it meant more than it sounded like.
She didn’t press.
But in that silence between them, something bloomed. Not friendship. Not flirtation.
Just… awareness.
Like they saw each other a little clearer now.
And maybe neither of them liked what they saw.
But they didn’t look away, either.
- Writer
