Your's, eventually

project

Monday morning arrived with absolutely no consideration for my feelings.

The sun was shining. Birds were singing. Somewhere in the world, people were probably waking up beside the people they loved, eating breakfast without having to witness their crush kissing another girl, and generally enjoying lives that weren't designed to humiliate them.

Unfortunately, I was not one of those people.

I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting my uniform for the third time.

My skirt was slightly shorter than usual. Not outrageously short, obviously. I still had a reputation to maintain, and I wasn't about to become the subject of a school assembly.

But perhaps, just perhaps, Xander would notice.

It was a ridiculous thought.

I knew it was ridiculous.

I also knew that if someone offered me a hundred dollars to stop thinking about Xander for five minutes, I would probably fail the challenge within thirty seconds.

I grabbed my bag and hurried downstairs.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Xander's mother greeted me.

"Morning."

"You're leaving early today?"

"School."

She glanced at the clock. "You're always going to school."

"Yes. It's an unfortunate condition."

She laughed, and I smiled before hurrying out.

The drive to school was spent rehearsing conversations I would probably never have.

Good morning, Xander.

Too ordinary.

Hey, Xander!

Too enthusiastic.

Hello, Xander. I was wondering if you had any plans after school.

Absolutely not. I would rather transfer to another continent.

By the time I arrived at school, I had successfully prepared approximately seventeen conversations and developed seventeen reasons why each one would end in embarrassment.

A brilliant start to the week.

I stepped through the school gates and immediately noticed the stares.

A group of boys near the entrance turned to look at me. One of them whispered something to his friend, who nudged him and laughed.

I frowned.

Was there something on my face?

I checked my reflection in my phone screen.

Nothing.

My hair was fine. My uniform was fine. My face looked like the face I had been forced to carry around since birth.

So what was everyone looking at?

"Morning, Gabriella."

I turned.

Xander.

My brain immediately abandoned its responsibilities.

He stood in front of me with his usual easy smile, his blond hair falling slightly over his forehead. He looked unfairly good for someone who had probably spent no more than thirty seconds getting ready.

"Hi," I managed.

His eyes moved briefly over my face before he smiled wider.

"You look nice today."

I forgot how to breathe.

He had noticed.

HE HAD NOTICED.

I could practically hear imaginary wedding bells ringing somewhere in the distance.

"Thanks," I replied, trying very hard not to look as though I was mentally planning our future children.

Then Marielle appeared beside him.

Of course she did.

Because apparently, happiness was a limited resource, and she had personally arranged for me to receive none.

"Xander, darling, are you coming?" she asked, slipping her arm through his.

Darling.

I hated that word.

Not because it was particularly offensive, but because she said it like she owned the entire English language and had decided to use that particular word to ruin my morning.

"Yeah, just a second," Xander replied.

Marielle looked at me.

Her gaze travelled briefly over my uniform before she smiled.

"Nice skirt, Gabriella."

I stared at her.

"Thank you."

"I didn't realise we were changing the uniform rules."

There it was.

The insult wrapped in a pretty little bow.

I opened my mouth, but Xander spoke first.

"Marielle, leave her alone."

For one glorious second, my heart soared.

He had defended me.

He had actually defended me.

Then he kissed Marielle on the cheek, and my heart fell down a flight of stairs.

"Come on," he told her. "We're going to be late."

And just like that, they walked away together.

I stood there watching them disappear into the building.

Perhaps I should have been embarrassed by how much one boy could affect my mood.

Instead, I was mostly embarrassed that I had chosen my skirt based on the possibility of receiving a compliment from him.

Excellent decisions, Gabriella.

Truly excellent.

"Are you planning to stand there until graduation?"

I closed my eyes.

I knew that voice.

Unfortunately, the universe had introduced me to Ethan, and the universe apparently had a terrible sense of humour.

"Good morning to you too," I said.

Ethan stood beside me, holding a notebook in one hand and a drink in the other.

His expression was the usual combination of boredom and quiet amusement.

He looked at me.

Then at the direction Xander had gone.

Then back at me.

"Oh," he said. "That bad?"

"What?"

"Whatever just happened in your head."

"Nothing happened in my head."

"Really? Because you were staring at Xander like he'd just announced that he was giving away free money."

I started walking.

Ethan followed.

"I wasn't staring at him."

"Of course not."

"I was looking in that direction."

"Ah. So your eyes were conducting independent research."

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Occasionally. Usually when people stop giving me reasons to regret having ears."

I glared at him.

He smiled.

I hated that smile.

Not because it was unattractive.

That would have been much easier.

I hated it because it always made me feel as though he knew something I didn't.

And I especially hated that, lately, I had begun noticing things about him that I had never paid attention to before.

The way he tilted his head when he was listening.

The way his sarcastic expression softened when someone was genuinely upset.

The way he could make a terrible day feel slightly less terrible without even trying.

It was inconvenient.

Very inconvenient.

Fortunately, I had Xander to think about.

And Xander was the entire point of my existence.

At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

Our first lesson was mathematics.

I loved mathematics.

Mathematics made sense.

Numbers did not flirt with other girls in front of you. Equations did not pretend to care about your feelings and then walk away holding someone else's hand.

Numbers were honest.

If two plus two equalled four, they did not suddenly decide it equalled five because a prettier number had entered the room.

I was halfway through a problem when our teacher walked in carrying a thick folder.

"Good morning, everyone."

The class responded with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Today, we'll be beginning a new project."

A collective groan rose from the room.

Our teacher ignored it.

"This project will be completed in pairs. You'll research a country of your choice, covering its history, culture, geography, language, major attractions, and traditional food. You'll also prepare a presentation for the class."

I sat up straighter.

A project.

Research.

A presentation.

Finally, something that made sense.

"Your partner will be assigned to you," the teacher continued. "I don't want anyone arguing about the pairings."

Several students immediately began whispering.

I glanced across the classroom.

Xander sat a few rows ahead of me, leaning back in his chair. Marielle was beside him, drawing something in the margin of her notebook.

I wondered whether we might be paired together.

The thought made my stomach flutter.

Imagine spending hours researching with Xander. Imagine him sitting beside me in the library, asking for my opinion, laughing at my jokes.

Imagine him finally realising that the girl he had been looking for was sitting right in front of him all along.

"Gabriella."

I looked up.

Our teacher was staring at me.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to share whatever has made you smile so much?"

The entire class turned.

My smile disappeared.

"No, ma'am."

"Wonderful. Then perhaps you can share your enthusiasm for the project instead."

A few people laughed.

I sank into my chair.

Ethan, sitting diagonally behind me, whispered, "Careful. If you blush any harder, someone might mistake you for a fire alarm."

I turned around.

"Go away."

"I'm sitting in a classroom."

"Then sit quietly."

"An ambitious request."

Our teacher began reading the pairings.

Names were called one after another.

Some students cheered. Others complained.

I listened carefully, my fingers crossed beneath the desk.

Please let it be Xander.

Please let it be Xander.

Please—

"Gabriella."

I sat up.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Ethan."

Silence.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then I slowly turned around.

Ethan was staring at me.

I stared back.

He looked almost as surprised as I felt.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

"Oh, excellent."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Don't."

"We're going to have so much fun."

"I'd rather work alone."

"Wonderful. I'll tell the teacher you said that."

"No!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"So you do want to work with me."

"I want good marks."

"Naturally. I'm simply the unfortunate obstacle standing between you and academic excellence."

I turned away before I said something that would get me suspended.

The teacher continued reading the names, completely unaware that she had just paired me with the most irritating boy in the school.

I glanced at Xander.

He was talking to Marielle.

He hadn't even looked in my direction.

I faced the front again.

Fine.

If I couldn't work with Xander, I would at least get the highest mark in the class.

And if Ethan intended to distract me, I would personally make sure he regretted it.

When the lesson ended, I packed my books and headed for the library.

Ethan appeared beside me before I had taken five steps.

"Where are we going?"

"The library."

"Wonderful. I've always wanted to spend my morning surrounded by books and people who consider whispering a competitive sport."

"Then this should be an unforgettable experience."

"I can hardly contain my excitement."

We found a table near the windows.

I pulled out my notebook, a pen, and a fresh sheet of paper.

Ethan dropped into the chair opposite me.

"So," I began, "we need to choose a country."

"New York."

I stared at him.

"New York is not a country."

"That's a disappointing discovery."

"It's a city."

"Then we'll study America."

"That's not how this works. We need to agree on a country and research it properly."

"Fine. France."

I paused.

"France?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Pizza."

I stared at him for several seconds.

"Pizza?"

"New York has excellent pizza. You rejected my original proposal. France is my compromise."

"France is not famous for pizza."

"Then perhaps your research will be educational for both of us."

I pressed my lips together.

I was going to need patience.

A considerable amount of patience.

"Paris," I decided. "We'll focus on Paris and France."

Ethan leaned back.

"Look at that. We agree on something. Should we inform the newspapers?"

"Could you please be serious for five minutes?"

"Five entire minutes? Gabriella, you ask so much of me."

I opened my notebook.

"First, history."

"Ah, yes. The past. A place where everything was simpler because none of us had homework."

I ignored him and began writing.

We researched the country's history, its geography, its culture, its famous landmarks, and its language.

I took notes while Ethan searched for information on his phone.

For the first ten minutes, everything went surprisingly well.

Then I looked at his notebook.

He had drawn an Eiffel Tower.

Beside it was a small figure wearing a crown.

I stared.

"What's that?"

"The king of France."

"There isn't a king of France."

"Then he's unemployed."

I closed my eyes.

"You're impossible."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"I accept it anyway."

Despite myself, I laughed.

It escaped before I could stop it.

Ethan looked up.

For a moment, he said nothing.

His expression changed slightly, the usual sarcasm giving way to something quieter.

Then he looked back at his notebook.

"There," he said. "Proof that my company improves your quality of life."

"Don't ruin it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

I returned to my notes, but I was still smiling.

That was the irritating thing about Ethan.

He could be completely unbearable for ten minutes, then say one ridiculous thing that made me laugh when I had been determined not to.

I didn't understand him.

I wasn't sure I wanted to.

By lunchtime, we had gathered enough information to fill several pages.

We had also argued about the best French food, whether the Eiffel Tower looked better during the day or at night, and whether Ethan could survive a week in Paris without complaining about the lack of New York pizza.

His answer had been that he could survive anything.

His expression suggested that this was a lie.

I was organising our notes when I noticed Xander across the library.

He was sitting beside Marielle.

She was showing him something on her phone, and he was laughing.

I watched them for longer than I intended.

My pen stopped moving.

They looked comfortable together.

Like two people who belonged beside each other.

I hated that thought.

I hated it because I had spent so long imagining what it would feel like to be the person Xander chose that I had never seriously considered the possibility that he might choose someone else.

Someone like Marielle.

Someone who didn't have to rehearse conversations before saying hello.

Someone who could hold his attention without wondering whether she was being too loud, too quiet, too ordinary, or too much of anything.

I looked down at my notebook.

The words blurred slightly.

"You're doing it again."

Ethan's voice pulled me back.

"Doing what?"

"Looking at them as if you're trying to set the table on fire with your mind."

"I'm not."

"Of course not. The smoke is probably a coincidence."

I put my pen down.

"Can you just leave me alone?"

The words came out more sharply than I intended.

Ethan's expression changed.

He didn't make another joke.

For some reason, that made me feel worse.

He closed his notebook.

"Sure."

I stared at him.

He stood up and walked towards the shelves.

I watched him go, guilt settling in my stomach.

I hadn't meant to snap at him.

He was irritating, yes. Infuriating, even.

But he hadn't done anything wrong.

He had simply noticed that I was hurting.

And instead of admitting it, I had taken my frustration out on him.

I looked across the room again.

Xander was still with Marielle.

Nothing had changed.

Except that now Ethan was gone, and the silence at the table felt heavier than it should have.

I sighed and returned to my notes.

For the next twenty minutes, I worked without interruption.

It should have been peaceful.

Instead, I kept glancing towards the shelves.

I told myself I was checking whether Ethan had found a useful source.

That was all.

Nothing more.

When Ethan returned, he placed two books on the table.

"These should help with the cultural section."

I looked up.

"Thank you."

He sat down.

"You're welcome."

An uncomfortable silence settled between us.

I hated uncomfortable silences.

They made me feel as though I needed to do something, even when I had no idea what that something was.

"Ethan?"

He continued opening one of the books.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I snapped at you."

He glanced at me.

"Apology accepted."

I waited.

That was it?

No joke? No sarcastic remark? No comment about how I had finally discovered basic human manners?

He turned a page.

I frowned.

"You're not going to say anything else?"

"What would you like me to say?"

"I don't know."

"Then we're both wonderfully prepared for this conversation."

I rolled my eyes.

There he was.

The Ethan I knew.

I felt myself relax.

"You're so annoying."

"And yet, here you are, voluntarily spending your morning with me."

"Because the teacher forced us to work together."

"Details."

I shook my head and returned to my notes.

A few minutes passed before he spoke again.

"You don't have to pretend you're fine every time you see them together, you know."

My pen stopped.

I didn't look up.

"Who?"

Ethan gave me a flat look.

"Right. The two random people you keep watching across the room. Perhaps they're celebrities."

I sighed.

"Xander and Marielle."

"There we are. Names. Progress."

I closed my notebook.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Nothing."

"Then why bring it up?"

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he shrugged.

"Because you keep hurting yourself over someone who doesn't even realise how much power you've given him."

The words stung.

Not because they were cruel.

Because they were uncomfortably close to the truth.

I looked down at my hands.

"You don't understand."

"Probably not."

"He was the first person who made me feel like I could be noticed. When I first came to live with Josh's family, everything was strange. I didn't know where I belonged, and I was trying so hard to fit in. Then he complimented my dress, and I know it sounds stupid, but I remembered it."

I swallowed.

"It made me feel like someone had actually seen me."

Ethan didn't interrupt.

So I continued.

"And now, whenever he's around, I keep thinking that maybe if I try a little harder, he'll see me that way again. Not as some girl he knows. Not as someone who happens to be nearby. Just... me."

I laughed quietly, though there was nothing funny about it.

"I know it sounds pathetic."

"It doesn't."

I looked at him.

His expression was serious.

For once, there was no sarcastic smile hiding behind his words.

"It sounds like you're human, Gabriella."

I stared at him.

I hadn't expected that.

I had expected a joke.

Something about my tragic love life or my questionable taste in boys.

Instead, he had listened.

And somehow, that was harder to deal with.

"Anyway," I said quickly, reaching for my notebook, "we should finish the project."

Ethan watched me for another moment before nodding.

"All right."

He didn't push me to say anything else.

I was grateful for that.

More grateful than I knew how to explain.

By the end of the afternoon, our research was nearly complete.

We had information on the history of Paris, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, French traditions, local food, and several other attractions.

Ethan had also managed to draw another Eiffel Tower, this time with sunglasses.

I had confiscated his pen.

He had called it an a***e of power.

I had told him to file a complaint.

We were packing our books when our teacher approached the table.

"How is the project coming along?"

"Very well, ma'am," I replied.

Ethan nodded.

"Gabriella has done most of the serious work."

I looked at him in surprise.

He shrugged.

"Someone had to make sure the Eiffel Tower received proper artistic representation."

Our teacher smiled.

"I'm glad you're working well together. Remember, your presentation is tomorrow."

My smile disappeared.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes. I announced that at the beginning of class."

I stared at her.

Apparently, my brain had been too busy imagining a future with Xander to process basic academic information.

"Make sure you finish preparing your presentation tonight," she continued. "I expect both partners to contribute equally."

"Of course, ma'am."

She walked away.

I slowly turned towards Ethan.

"Tomorrow?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Tomorrow."

"We haven't even finished the presentation."

"An astute observation."

"Ethan!"

"What? You wanted me to be serious. I am being serious."

I gathered our papers.

"We need to finish the slides, organise the pictures, and decide who says what."

"Then we'd better get started."

I looked at him suspiciously.

"You're actually agreeing?"

"Don't look so shocked. I have a reputation for being difficult, not academically incompetent."

For the first time that day, I smiled without thinking about Xander.

"Fine. Meet me after school tomorrow so we can practise."

Ethan picked up his bag.

"Wouldn't miss it."

He walked away before I could reply.

I watched him leave, then shook my head.

He was still irritating.

Still sarcastic.

Still entirely too pleased with himself.

But as I packed my things, I realised something that made me pause.

For almost an hour, I hadn't thought about Xander.

Not because I had stopped liking him.

Not because I had suddenly discovered that Ethan was secretly the love of my life.

I simply hadn't needed to think about Xander.

I had been busy laughing, arguing, working, and talking to someone who seemed to understand more than he let on.

The realisation unsettled me.

So I pushed it aside.

I had a presentation to prepare.

A crush to maintain.

And a perfectly good plan to make Xander fall in love with me.

There was absolutely no reason to complicate things by paying attention to Ethan.

Absolutely none.

At least, that was what I told myself as I left the library.

I had no idea how complicated things were about to become.