Theo and Nick.
The alarm clock wouldn’t stop ringing.
Theo groaned and knocked it over. It hit the floor with a sharp crash, and he didn’t bother checking, he already knew it was broken. He blinked up at the ceiling, eyes adjusting.
First day of school.
Final year, actually.
He still couldn’t believe it was his final year.
A smile crept onto his face as he pushed himself out of bed. He showered quickly, got dressed, and headed downstairs, the smell of breakfast guiding him toward the kitchen.
His mum was already at the stove.
“Good morning, Mum,” Theo said, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.
“Mmm,” he inhaled dramatically. “Breakfast looks good, Ma.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head as she flipped the eggs in the pan.
“Sit before you faint from all that inhaling,” she teased. “You’re up early. Nervous?”
Her eyes flicked to the broken alarm clock in his hand, one eyebrow lifting.
“…Please tell me that didn’t survive the night.”
Theo grimaced.
His dad looked up from behind his newspaper, peering over his glasses with a fond smile that creased the corners of his eyes.
“Final year already,” he said. “Feels like yesterday you were crying because your backpack was bigger than you.”
He folded the paper neatly and reached for his coffee.
“No pressure,” he added lightly. “Just do your best. That’s all we’ve ever asked.”
His Mum slid eggs onto a plate, added toast, and set it in front of him.
“Eat well,” she said gently. “Big day.”
She studied him for a second longer than usual like mothers always did then smiled.
“Oh, and Zach called earlier,” she added casually. “Told me to remind you not to forget your calculus notes. Something about ‘saving his life.’”
Theo snorted.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily.
Outside, a car passed. Somewhere down the street, a school bus hissed to a stop.
************************************
[Same morning]
Blackridge High buzzed louder than usual.
Senior year carried a different weight expectations humming in the air, heavy but unspoken.
Theo walked through the gates with Zach and Bea, Zach talking animatedly about football tryouts he wasn’t even part of.
“I swear, if Nick Gillian’s ego gets any bigger, they’ll need a separate stadium just for his head,” Zach scoffed.
Bea laughed. “You hate him too much.”
“And he deserves it.”
As if summoned by the insult alone, engines roared nearby.
A sleek black car pulled into the student lot, and the surrounding chatter dipped.
Nick Gillian stepped out.
Football jacket. White tee. Easy confidence.
Jason his friend and football mate followed close behind, laughing too loudly, while Celine, head of the cheerleaders squard hurried over, fixing her hair like the world had tilted in Nick’s direction.
“Morning, babe,” she said, slipping into his space.
Nick didn’t respond just draped an arm loosely over her shoulders, eyes scanning the crowd.
Theo felt it then. That familiar prickle. The sense of being watched.
He turned and saw him, Nick Gillian. Captain of the football team. Golden boy. And, without question, trouble. Celine clung to his hand, Jason and a few other teammates gathered around him.
Theo frowned and turned back to his friends.
Hopefully, after this year, he wouldn’t have to see them again.
He forced a smile and focused on Zach and Bea’s conversation instead. Soon, the bell rang, sharp and final, signaling the start of class.
Maths first period.
A rough way to start a semester, but oh well.
Theo slipped into an empty desk and began arranging his books when a loud bang echoed through the room.
He looked up.
Nick Gillian.
What was he doing here?
Theo frowned and quickly looked away, pretending to be very interested in his notebook.
The classroom buzzed with low chatter, chairs scraping, bags thumping onto the floor until the door swung open with a sharp creak.
Mr. James stepped in.
The effect was immediate. Conversations died mid-sentence. Students straightened. Phones vanished. Even Jason shut his mouth. Everyone knew better than to test this man.
He didn’t rush, He set his worn leather briefcase on the desk with deliberate care, adjusted his sleeves, then finally turned to face the class. His eyes swept over the students like he was counting mistakes before they happened.
“Sit properly.”
Instant obedience.
He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing slowly between the rows.
“Final year,” he said. “Some of you think that means freedom. Others think it means panic.” His gaze lingered on a few students longer than necessary. “You are all wrong.”
A pause.
“This year determines everything. Universities. Scholarships. Futures.” He stopped at the center of the room. “This is not the year to be lazy. Not the year to coast on talent, charm, or last-minute prayers.” His eyes lingered pointedly on the back row, where Jason slouched, and then briefly, on Nick.
Nick didn’t react. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, with a bored expression.
“Math is not forgiving,” Mr. James continued. “It does not care if you’re popular, athletic, or planning to peak before graduation.”
A few students swallowed nervously.
“So,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back again, “I’ve decided to introduce a new method this year. You will be working in pairs.”
Groans rippled through the room.
“Save it,” Mr. James snapped. Silence returned immediately. “You will sit together. Study together. Test together. Sink or die together. I do not care.”
He picked up the attendance sheet.
“I will call names. When I do, you nod your empty little brains and move toward your partner. No complaints. No negotiations.”
The roll call began.
“Zachary Ju… Beatrice Morgan.”
Bea shot Zach a startled look before breaking into a grin and grabbing her bag.
“Jason Moore… Daniel Price.”
Jason scoffed but stood anyway.
Name after name, desks scraped, students moved.
Then....
“Theodore Hale.”
There was a brief pause as Mr. James scanned the list.
“…Nicholas Gillian.”
The air shifted. A few heads snapped toward them. Someone muttered a quiet, “Oh damn.”
Jason turned halfway in his seat, eyes lighting up with cruel amusement. “Oh, this’ll be fun.”
Celine’s smile stiffened a few rows over.
Zach rolled his eyes and Bea smirked.
Theo blinked. Once. Twice. He couldn’t believe it. Paired with Nick Gillian? Of all the insufferable students in the school, him?
He felt doomed to fail his final year. Internally, he groaned.
Nick’s face had no reactions, No smirk. No annoyance. No interest. He lifted his eyes once toward Theo’s desk, then looked away again, jaw set, his expression closed off like a locked door.
“I see you’re already close. No need for movements,” Mr. James muttered.
“That pairing is final,” he said coldly, looking up. “If you have a problem, you can take it up with the principal. Or with your results at the end of the year.”
Silence.
“Good,” he added. “Now open your books. Page seven.”
Throughout the lessons, Theo’s attention wandered. Calculations blurred. Graphs lost their meaning. Until finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Mr. James left them with a few assignments, and with the pairing official, everyone had to work together. Students began gathering with their partners.
Nick was already grabbing his textbooks.
“Oh no, he won’t,” Theo muttered under his breath, frowning.
“So… uh… your place or mine?” The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Nick paused mid-movement. One strap of his bag hung loose from his shoulder, his hand resting on the desk. He didn’t sit back down. Instead, he tilted his head slowly toward Theo.
Not angry. Just… surprised.
As if he hadn’t expected Theo to speak at all.
His eyes dragged over Theo’s face, his glasses, furrowed brows, tight grip on the notebook lingering a second too long before flattening into something cold and indifferent.
For a moment, the classroom felt too small. Nick said nothing to him, He just straightened, slung his bag fully over his shoulder, and turned away. The chair scraped softly as he stepped into the aisle, long strides carrying him toward the door. He didn’t glance back.
The door closed behind him with a dull thud.
Nick Gillian was gone.
And somehow, the silence he left behind felt louder than any insult he could have thrown at Theo.
