Jax's P.O.V.
Walking into the cafeteria, I felt the familiar buzz of lunchtime energy hit me—conversations bouncing off the walls, the clash of trays, and bursts of laughter from every corner. Aaron was mid-rant about some new car mod, his voice filling the space around us as Madison chimed in with a question I didn’t bother to catch.
But then I saw them.
Sam and Kyle.
Tucked away at a table near the back, their heads slightly bent toward each other. Kyle was leaning in, his face serious, his lips moving as if every word carried weight. Sam wasn’t meeting his gaze, though. She stared at the table, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag.
I stopped walking, my focus narrowing until the sounds around me dulled into nothing.
“Yo, Jax, you good?” Aaron asked, pausing ahead of me,
