Thursday – After School, Class 1-A
She kissed me.
Not a forehead tap. Not a teasing nudge.
A kiss. Soft. Quick. Barely more than a brush of lips against skin—but it froze the entire room.
Emma.
Emma Sinclair.
Planner queen. Debate shark. Future student council president.
Had just kissed me on the cheek… and walked out like it didn't just rearrange the chemistry of my entire brain.
Jay – 15 Seconds Later
I still hadn't moved.
Not even blinked.
Tyler's voice drifted in from the hallway like a lifeline.
"Jay? You dead, bro?"
I muttered, "…Maybe."
My fingers brushed the spot on my face where she kissed me.
It still tingled. Like my body hadn't processed what happened yet, but my nerves had already started a celebration party without me.
Why?
Why now?
I didn't even say anything that smooth.
I wasn't flirting.
She just… did it.
And now I had no idea what I was supposed to do next.
Emma – Two Floors Down, Bathroom Mirror
Her hands gripped the sink.
"Idiot," she whispered at her reflection. "What the hell was that?"
Her cheeks were burning red.
Emma Sinclair, composed overachiever, had just let impulse win.
No strategy. No timing. No calculation.
It was the heat of the moment. The way he looked at her after she told him to stop being everyone's prince. The soft tone. The almost-sad smile.
And she couldn't take it back.
"I'm not even competing," she muttered to herself. "I don't have time for this."
But her smile?
It stayed for the next thirty minutes.
Friday Evening – One Day Before the Festival
Final decorations. Last minute costume fittings. The scent of paint and fresh glue filled the air like perfume.
Class 1-A was electric.
Emma was back in leader mode. Sofia played DJ. Luna quietly finished painting the backdrop of the royal café entrance.
Amaya cut fabric in the corner, watching everyone with a soft, thoughtful expression.
Tyler stacked chairs into a makeshift fort.
Noah rehearsed his "Rival Prince" lines in the hallway mirror.
Even Miles helped—if muttering curses while untangling fairy lights counted.
And me?
I moved tablecloths, refilled pens, adjusted lighting, held things while people pinned or poked or measured or fussed.
Like always.
But this time, I was hyper-aware of every single glance.
Especially Emma's.
Night – Clean-Up Done
We were the last few lefts.
Me. Emma. Sofia. Amaya. Luna. Tyler.
The air was warm from body heat and leftover adrenaline. Someone suggested the rooftop. Everyone agreed without a word.
Rooftop – 9:12 PM
Six of us sat in a soft circle.
The school below was quiet. A rare kind of silence. Magical, almost.
Luna leaned back against the railing, sketchbook open.
Sofia stretched out on her back, hair spilling over the concrete like a fairy tale villain.
Tyler tossed a small ball in the air over and over.
Emma sat close to me, legs crossed, hands in her lap.
Amaya sat across, her knees tucked up, arms wrapped around them.
No one spoke for a long time.
Then Luna broke the silence.
"This was a good day."
Tyler nodded. "We didn't even set anything on fire."
"Yet," Sofia added.
Amaya looked at me, eyes warm. "Thank you for helping everyone."
"I didn't do anything."
"You didn't have to," Emma whispered.
A Moment
I looked at them all.
My friends.
My chaos magnets.
My possible heartbreaks.
They were quiet now. But I could feel everything bubbling just under the surface.
The tension. The questions. The things none of us wanted to say yet.
And for a moment…
I didn't want this to end.
As We Packed Up
Sofia leaned over and poked my cheek.
"You look dreamy. Thinking about kissing someone?"
I choked. "What—?"
Emma stiffened beside me.
Sofia grinned and skipped ahead toward the stairs.
Emma waited at the door with me.
I wanted to say something.
Anything.
But I didn't.
Because tomorrow?
Was the real show.
We locked up the classroom together after the others left.
Amaya walked beside me on the way home—quiet, thoughtful, the moonlight brushing her face like it was afraid to touch her too hard.
"I think tomorrow's going to be beautiful," she said softly.
I glanced down at her. "Even if we mess up?"
She smiled. "Especially then."
We passed the usual vending machine. She didn't stop this time.
Instead, she slipped her hand into mine.
Just for a second.
But it stayed with me the whole walk home.
Later, Alone in My Room
I stared at my costume on the hanger.
Polished buttons. Clean white gloves. A cloak that looked like it belonged on a fantasy movie poster.
The crown sat quietly on my desk.
Waiting.
The whole school would be watching tomorrow.
But I didn't care about them.
I cared about the girls whose eyes I couldn't stop feeling…
even when they weren't looking.