Chapter 5
930 Words
Hallways & Heartbeats
Chapter 5 — “Under the Trophy Case”
(~1,000 words)
The next Monday morning dawned gray and damp, the kind of day when the halls of Ridgeway smelled like wet sneakers and coffee. Amy ducked through the front doors, clutching her binder. She had stayed up late going over notes Ethan had texted her for the midterm. They were neat and color-coded; even his bullet points had bullet points.
She was still thinking about them when a voice drawled behind her.
“Early bird gets the library seat, huh?”
Amy turned. Jayden leaned against a locker like he owned it, hands jammed into his hoodie, hair falling over his eyes. He looked different out of the mascot suit—smaller somehow, or maybe just less outrageous.
“Morning,” she said cautiously.
“Morning, Beloved,” he replied, his usual grin a little lopsided. “Need a partner for English, or does Mr. Perfect have you covered in every subject now?”
She sighed. “Don’t start.”
“Not starting,” he said, palms raised. “Just…curious.”
They walked together toward the English wing. Students streamed around them, laughing, shoving, showing off new haircuts. Amy found herself slowing to match his pace.
“You were funny at the pep rally,” she admitted.
Jayden brightened. “Funny? I was magnificent. The Hawk of Destiny! Did you see Ethan’s face?”
“I did,” Amy said, biting back a smile. “He thought you were nuts.”
“That’s because he’s allergic to fun.” Jayden’s grin softened. “But you laughed.”
Amy’s cheeks warmed. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Then my mission was accomplished.”
Before she could reply, a voice bellowed down the hall. “Reed! Detention slip!”
Jayden groaned as Mr. Harris, the assistant principal, marched up and handed him a yellow slip. “Mascot stunt was not authorized. You’ll clean the trophy cases after school. Today. Bring gloves.”
“Yes, sir,” Jayden muttered.
Amy hesitated. “That’s not fair.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He stuffed the slip into his pocket. “Happens all the time.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur. By the final bell, Amy was still thinking about Jayden stuck in detention while everyone else went home. She shouldered her bag and started toward the exit—but stopped. Her steps turned toward the gym hallway instead.
She found him crouched under the biggest trophy case in the main hall, a spray bottle in one hand and a rag in the other. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up, revealing lean forearms speckled with glass cleaner. A bucket sat beside him, already gray with dirty water.
“You didn’t have to come,” he said without looking up.
“I know.” She knelt beside him anyway. “But it’s a big trophy case. You’ll be here all night.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Beloved, you’re going to ruin your reputation hanging around delinquents.”
She took the rag from his hand. “Too late.”
For a moment he just stared at her, then laughed softly and scooted over to make room. They worked in silence, spraying and wiping glass, the smell of cleaner sharp in their noses. Outside the windows, dusk settled over the parking lot.
“You’re really good at this,” Amy said after a while.
“Years of practice,” Jayden replied. “I think I’ve cleaned every surface in this school at least once.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
He shrugged. “I earned most of it.”
Amy glanced at him. “Why do you do it? The pranks, I mean.”
He stopped scrubbing. For once, his grin slipped completely. “Because it’s the only thing I’m good at. My grades are a mess. My mom works nights. Nobody expects me to be anything but the clown. So I might as well make it a show.”
Amy’s throat tightened. She hadn’t expected honesty.
“You’re good at more than that,” she said quietly.
Jayden’s eyes flicked to hers. “Yeah? Like what?”
“You’re good at…making people feel seen,” she said, surprised at her own words. “Even me.”
Something flickered across his face—surprise, then something softer. He looked down, rubbing a circle on the glass with his rag until it shone.
“Thanks,” he said finally.
They finished the case. Jayden stood, stretching. “Well, now the Ridgeway Hawks can admire themselves in spotless glass.”
Amy handed him the spray bottle. “At least you won’t get dust in your feathers next time.”
He laughed, a real laugh this time, not his showman’s chuckle. “Touché.”
They walked out together into the dim hallway. Students’ voices echoed faintly from distant classrooms; the building was almost empty. Amy realized how strange it felt to be alone with him, not bickering, not surrounded by noise.
At the exit, Jayden held the door for her. “Thanks for helping.”
“No problem.”
He tilted his head. “You know, if you keep this up, Mr. Perfect might get jealous.”
Amy rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “Good night, Jayden.”
“Night, Beloved.”
She stepped out into the cool evening air, the bracelet from Ethan still on her wrist, the scent of glass cleaner on her hands, and a confusing warmth in her chest she couldn’t shake.
- Writer
