Forced collaboration
1424 Words
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The next morning, I walked into school like I was walking into a war zone.
Maybe that was dramatic. Maybe not.
Presenting to both boards on Friday meant every move my group made would be watched. Dave was nervous enough to triple-check his slides at 7 AM. Ama kept rewriting her competitor analysis because “what if they ask about market saturation?”
And Kai… Kai was annoyingly calm.
“Relax, Chen,” he said when he found me in the library before first period. He dropped a coffee on my desk. No sugar, light milk. Exactly how I took it.
I stared at it. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“I know,” he said, sitting down across from me. “You’d suffer through a caffeine headache before admitting you needed it.”
I picked up the coffee. It was still warm.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
He grinned. “You’re welcome. Now eat something. You look like you haven’t slept.”
I hadn’t. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.
We spent first break running through the slides. Dave handled the intro, Ama did market data, I took financial projections and risk, Kai closed with strategy and execution. It made sense. It played to everyone’s strengths.
It also meant I’d be on stage right before him.
“Don’t rush,” he said when we hit the transition between my section and his. “Pause. Let them process. You’ve got the numbers. They’ll listen.”
I frowned. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
He shrugged. “My dad makes me sit through board meetings. I pick things up.”
Right. Billionaire training.
Still, his advice was solid.
---
Mrs. A pulled us aside after third period.
“Group 4, my office. Now.”
Her office was small, cluttered with old textbooks and student projects that never got picked up. She didn’t sit down.
“I’ve heard from Mr. Chen and Mr. Mercer,” she said, eyes scanning each of us. “They’re expecting a strong presentation Friday. This is a real opportunity for you four.”
Dave straightened. “We’re ready, Mrs. A.”
She nodded, then looked at me. “Lila, you’re leading the financials. If there’s a tough question, it’ll come to you. Are you prepared?”
I met her gaze. “Yes, ma’am.”
She looked at Kai next. “And you’re closing. Don’t get cute with it, Mercer. This isn’t a stand-up set.”
Kai put a hand over his heart. “Me? Never.”
Mrs. A wasn’t amused. “Good. Dismissed.”
As we left, I felt the weight settle heavier on my shoulders.
Kai fell into step beside me.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You’ve been saying that a lot.”
I stopped walking. “Kai, I don’t need you to manage me.”
“I’m not managing you,” he said. “I’m watching your back. There’s a difference.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he kept going.
“Friday, if anyone tries to make this about your name or my name instead of the work, I’ll handle it. You focus on the numbers. That’s your strength.”
I stared at him.
In my first life, he’d never said anything like that. He’d let the rumors slide, let people decide I was just ‘Chen’s daughter playing business.’
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you deserve better than that,” he said simply. “And because I’m tired of watching you carry everything alone.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
So I walked away before I did something stupid, like believe him too fast.
---
Wednesday was hell.
We had a full run-through after school, and Dave blanked on his intro twice. Ama’s laptop crashed right before her section.
And then, ten minutes in, the door opened.
Mr. Mercer.
He didn’t knock. He just walked in with two other men in suits, clipboard in hand.
“Mrs. A said I could observe,” he said, voice smooth and cutting. “Make sure my son’s group is on track.”
Mrs. A nodded stiffly. “Proceed.”
Dave started again, voice shaky. Ama recovered, fast and professional. I went next, and I kept my voice steady, my numbers clean.
When it was Kai’s turn, he didn’t falter.
He owned the room.
He talked about execution strategy like he’d been doing it for years, referencing supply chain models and contingency plans without a single ‘um’ or ‘like.’
Mr. Mercer’s expression didn’t change, but I saw his eyes narrow slightly.
Good.
Afterward, Mr. Mercer pulled Kai aside.
“Not bad,” he said. “But don’t let her carry you, boy. Your name means something here.”
Kai’s jaw tightened.
“She’s not carrying me,” he said evenly. “We’re carrying each other.”
Mr. Mercer looked at me then. Really looked.
“Chen,” he said. “You’re competent. Don’t waste it chasing distractions.”
My face stayed neutral.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
He left without another word.
The room felt colder after he was gone.
Ama let out a breath. “Well. That was terrifying.”
Dave nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for not letting me die up there, Lila.”
I managed a small smile. “You didn’t die.”
Kai was quiet.
When the others left, he stayed behind.
“You okay?” I asked.
He shook his head. “He’s always like that. Thinks I’m coasting on the name.”
“You are coasting,” I said. “Just not anymore.”
He looked surprised, then laughed softly. “Fair.”
I hesitated, then said, “You handled that well. In there.”
He shrugged. “You handled worse.”
I didn’t ask what he meant. I didn’t need to.
We packed up in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
For the first time, it felt like we were on the same side.
---
Thursday night, I couldn’t focus.
I reread the financials three times, checked every formula, triple-checked the citations.
Eva found me at 11 PM, still at my desk.
“Go to bed, Lila,” she said, taking my laptop away.
“I can’t. What if they ask about the sensitivity analysis? What if—”
“Stop,” she said firmly. “You’ve done the work. You know this better than anyone. If they ask something you don’t know, you say you’ll follow up. That’s what professionals do.”
I exhaled slowly. “You sound like a CEO.”
“I’m your best friend,” she said. “Go sleep. Kai can handle the rest if you drop dead from exhaustion.”
I almost smiled. “He’d probably just present my slides for me.”
“Exactly. Now sleep.”
I did.
Sort of.
---
Friday morning, the school was electric.
The hall outside the auditorium was full of students, teachers, and two sets of board members in suits.
Our group was up third.
Dave was pacing. Ama was adjusting her blazer for the fifth time. Kai was leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, calm as ever.
“You’re nervous,” he said to me quietly.
I shook my head. “No.”
“You’re biting your lip. You only do that when you’re nervous.”
I stopped.
He reached out, like he was going to touch my hand, then thought better of it and dropped it.
“Breathe, Lila,” he said. “You’ve got this. And I’ve got you.”
I looked at him.
For a second, the noise of the hallway faded.
“Thanks,” I said.
He nodded.
“Group 4, you’re up,” Mrs. A called.
We walked out together.
The lights were bright. The room was full.
I took my place at the podium, opened my notes, and started talking.
My voice didn’t shake.
When it was Kai’s turn, he stepped up beside me, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like we were opponents.
It felt like we were a team.
We finished to a round of applause.
Mr. Mercer nodded once. Dad smiled, small but real.
As we walked off stage, Kai leaned over and whispered,
“Told you’ve got this.”
I didn’t reply.
But I didn’t pull away when his shoulder brushed mine on the way back to our seats.
One small step.
That was enough for now.
---
_End of Chapter 3_
- Writer
