Chapter 3 - Paired
1009 Words
Ezra's POV
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The entire classroom seemed frozen in shock.
Then the whispers started.
"Oh my God."
"That is brutal."
"Mr. Holloway definitely dislikes somebody."
A few students laughed.
Ezra sat motionless in his chair, staring at the desk in front of him. Surely he had heard wrong. There was no way this was happening. No path existed where the universe could be this cruel.
Unfortunately, when he finally looked up, Jace Ryland was already staring at him from across the room.
And judging by the expression on his face, he was not exactly thrilled either.
Mr. Holloway continued reading names, completely oblivious to the chaos he had just unleashed.
Beside Ezra, Sophie leaned closer.
"You have got to be kidding."
Ezra let out a humorless laugh.
"I wish."
"Maybe it will not be that bad."
They both knew she was lying.
The teacher finally finished assigning partners and dismissed the class. Students immediately jumped from their seats, eager to leave before the final bell.
Ezra remained where he was.
Maybe if he waited long enough, everyone else would leave first.
Maybe Jace would forget.
Maybe...
A shadow fell across his desk.
His stomach dropped.
Slowly, he looked up.
Jace stood in front of him.
Of course.
"Monroe."
Ezra resisted the urge to sigh.
"What?"
Jace crossed his arms.
"We need to talk."
Several nearby students immediately slowed down.
Eavesdropping.
Great.
"What about?"
"The assignment."
Ezra shoved his books into his bag.
"What about it?"
Jace looked irritated.
Actually irritated.
As though this situation was somehow Ezra's fault.
"We need to figure something out."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Jace said slowly, "there is no way we are surviving an entire semester together."
A few students nearby snorted.
Ezra felt anger flare inside him.
"You think I asked for this?"
Jace did not answer immediately.
His jaw tightened.
For some reason, that tiny reaction made Ezra even angrier.
Years.
Years of being humiliated by this guy.
And now Jace wanted to act inconvenienced?
Unbelievable.
"You know what?" Ezra said. "Do not worry about it."
Jace frowned.
"What?"
"I will do the project myself."
The hallway outside was growing louder as students headed home.
Inside the classroom, however, the tension felt thick enough to choke on.
Jace stared at him.
"You cannot do the whole thing yourself."
"Watch me."
For the first time since approaching, Jace looked genuinely caught off guard.
Ezra enjoyed it more than he should have.
"Monroe..."
"No."
Ezra stood, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
"I am serious."
Jace's eyes narrowed.
"Why are you acting like this?"
The question almost made Ezra laugh.
Why was he acting like this?
Really?
Years of mockery.
Years of humiliation.
Years of being treated like garbage.
And Jace was asking why?
Something dark twisted inside Ezra's chest.
"You would not understand."
Before Jace could respond, Ezra walked away.
This time, he did not stop.
Did not look back.
Did not care if people were staring.
All he wanted was to get home.
Away from school.
Away from Jace.
Away from the constant feeling that he was not good enough.
Unfortunately, escaping Jace Ryland was impossible.
Because twenty minutes later, Ezra looked out the window of his bedroom and saw the Ryland house directly across the street.
Just like always.
The sight made him groan.
Their families had lived across from each other for years.
A fact that felt increasingly unfair.
Out of all the houses in the city, why did Jace have to live there?
Why did fate insist on torturing him?
Ezra dropped his backpack onto the floor and collapsed onto his bed.
The ceiling stared back at him.
Silent.
Mocking.
His thoughts drifted back to the classroom.
To Jace.
To the project.
To that stupid question.
Why are you acting like this?
Maybe because I am exhausted.
Maybe because I cannot keep doing this.
Maybe because being your favorite target is draining.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Ezra?"
His mother's voice.
He sat up immediately.
"Yeah?"
The door opened.
Monica Monroe stepped inside carrying a plate of fruit.
The universal sign that she wanted to talk.
Wonderful.
"How was school?"
Ezra almost laughed.
How was school?
The same way it had been every day for the last three years.
Painful.
Embarrassing.
Exhausting.
"Fine."
His mother gave him a look.
The one that said she knew he was lying.
Mothers had a terrifying ability to do that.
"Ezra."
"I am okay."
"You do not sound okay."
He looked away.
The concern in her voice only made him feel worse.
Because she cared.
Because she would be furious if she knew how students treated him.
Because he did not want to give her another reason to worry.
The election season was already stressful enough.
His father barely slept these days.
Every news channel seemed determined to turn the Monroe-Ryland rivalry into entertainment.
The last thing his family needed was another problem.
"I am fine, Mom."
She studied him for a long moment before finally nodding.
"If you say so."
After she left, silence returned.
Ezra walked toward the window.
Across the street, a light glowed in the second-floor bedroom of the Ryland house.
Jace's room.
He was probably in there.
Probably not thinking about Ezra at all.
Probably hanging out with friends.
Living his perfect life.
The thought should have comforted him.
Instead, it hurt.
Because despite everything, a part of Ezra still wanted Jace to think about him.
Just once.
Not as a target.
Not as entertainment.
Just... him.
Across the street, the curtain suddenly shifted.
Ezra froze.
A figure appeared behind the glass.
Jace.
Even from a distance, he was unmistakable.
For a second, neither moved.
Neither looked away.
The moment felt strangely intimate.
Dangerously intimate.
Then Jace stepped closer to the glass.
Ezra's heart immediately started racing.
And for reasons he could not explain, he found himself unable to look away.
He actually has a cute face, for a chubby guy, Jace thought.. What the hell!! Jace snap out of his thought.
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