Paper Echoes

The late summer sun poured through the tall classroom windows, striping the desks in golden light. Elliot sat by the window, chin propped against his palm, dark hair falling into his eyes as he pretended to listen to the teacher. His notebook remained blank, saved for a few absentminded doodles.

“Elliot, would you care to answer?”

He blinked, straightening in his seat. Before he could open his mouth, a voice from across the room spoke.

“It’s photosynthesis,” Vincent said coolly, not even looking up from his book. “Basic biology.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the class. Elliot’s cheeks burned. Slowly, he turned to look at Vincent—the tall boy with sharp green eyes, posture perfect as if he owned the very air around him. Their gazes locked, clashing silently.

“I knew that,” Elliot muttered, his voice low but edged.

“Did you?” Vincent arched a brow, lips tugging into the faintest smirk. “Because it looked like you were about to say something else.”

More laughter. Elliot gritted his teeth. “Maybe I was waiting for the teacher to finish the question before blurting it out like a know-it-all.”

The smirk vanished. Vincent finally looked up, eyes narrowing. For a moment, the room seemed to buzz with the heat of their unspoken challenge.

From her desk near the middle row, Jasmine sighed. Her long dark hair fell forward as she leaned over, whispering to the girl beside her, “They’ve known each other for five minutes and already act like enemies.”

The bell rang, shattering the tension. Students began filing out, chattering and laughing. Elliot gathered his things slowly, shoving his books into his bag with sharp movements. Vincent was already at the door when Elliot’s voice called after him.

“Hey—Vincent, was it?”

Vincent glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

“Stay out of my way,” Elliot said flatly.

Vincent’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Gladly. Just try not to trip over yourself without me.”

Elliot’s hand curled into a fist, but he shoved it into his pocket instead. He wouldn’t give Vincent the satisfaction of a reaction. As Vincent disappeared into the hallway, Jasmine came over, her expression caught between amusement and worry.

“You two are impossible,” she said softly.

Elliot gave a short laugh, one without humor. “Don’t lump me with him. I don’t have time for people like Vincent.”

But as he glanced out the window, watching Vincent’s retreating figure, something twisted in his chest—annoyance, maybe curiosity, maybe both. Whatever it was, he refused to name it.