Claimed

“Joe, wait up!”

Joe stopped dead, doing his best not to spill the coffee. When he spotted his friend from chem jogging over, his grin came easy.

“Got a spare?” she asked, eyeing the cups.

“Sorry, these are—”

“Joe.”

That voice. No mistaking it.

Every muscle tensed up. He turned around, slow like he was facing a firing squad.

There was Liam, hands deep in his pockets. The guy looked like he’d slept in his uniform and absolutely said no to brushing his hair, but somehow he always acted like he owned the place.

“Liam,” Joe sputtered through the tightness in his throat.

Liam glanced at the coffee, shrugged, and just grabbed one right out of Joe’s hand. No hesitation.

“Thanks,” Liam muttered, already moving, sipping like he’d claimed what was rightfully his.

“I was—” Joe started, but Liam wasn’t listening. He just melted into the crowd.

“Liam, I—”

No response. Not a single glance back.

Joe stood there, gripping the last cup, watching until Liam disappeared.

“Joe?” his friend asked, voice soft.

Joe blinked, snapping to. Her whole face was worried. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“That was pretty—”

“It’s fine,” he cut her off. “Need to get to class.”

He took off before she could say anything else.

By the lockers, Noah finally caught up.

“Hey,” Noah said, nodding toward Joe’s cup. “Why’d you let him do that?”

Joe blinked, confused. “Do what?”

“Liam. I saw him grab your coffee and just walk off.”

“Oh.” Joe shrugged, trying to be casual. “Not a big deal.”

“He didn’t even ask.”

“I know.”

They just stood there for a second. Noah wasn’t letting it drop.

Joe shoved the cup in his direction. “Here. I brought this for you.”

Noah looked startled. “For me?”

“Yeah. Figured you’d need caffeine after pulling an all-nighter.”

Something tightened in Noah’s chest. “Just keep it, Joe. I mean, Liam took yours.”

“I’m good. Really.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Noah, come on. Take the coffee.”

For a second, neither moved.

Finally, Noah took the cup.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Joe flashed a genuine smile, looking relieved for once. “No problem.”

They headed to class together. Joe filled the silence with anxious rambling about an assignment he'd completely forgotten and a quiz he was sure was going to wreck him.

Noah listened, but his mind kept going back to Liam just took what he wanted, and Joe let him.

Class felt endless.

Noah heard almost nothing. His eyes flicked to the clock again and again, counting down seconds.

When the bell rang, he packed up faster than anyone.

“In a rush?” Joe asked.

“Meeting Jay. Fourth floor.”

Joe’s eyebrows shot up. “Ditching me for Vale now, huh?”

“It’s not—” Noah started.

Joe snorted. “Go on. I’ll survive.”

Noah hovered. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He wanted to say something something about Liam Knox steamrolling Joe but all he managed was, “Catch you later.”

Joe waved him off. Noah headed for the stairs.

Jay was already waiting, essay out, full of angry red scribbles.

Noah dropped into the chair. “That bad?”

Jay flipped a page, unimpressed. “It’s better. Still missing something.”

“What?”

Jay finally looked up. “Your thesis works, your points are clear, but you’re not connecting them.”

“I stuck in citations, used decent quotes—”

“That’s not it.” Jay turned the paper around. “You treat every paragraph like it’s its own territory. You gotta build up.”

Noah squinted, looking over it. Jay had a point, damn it.

“So, rewrite it again?”

“Just shuffle the order. The ideas hold up. It’s the structure that’s wrong.”

Noah slumped, letting out a groan. “Great.”

“Tonight. I want to see it again tomorrow.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup.”

Noah stuffed the paper away. “Anything else?”

Jay watched him, a little amused. “You look frustrated.”

“I’ve rewritten this thing three times already.”

“And each draft gets better.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“You want it right the first try,” Jay leaned back, grinning. “Nobody does.”

Noah made a face. “So, how does writing actually go?”

“You just keep fixing it until it clicks.”

Jay was so sure, Noah almost wanted to believe him.

Noah looked away first. “Gotta get to my next class.”

Jay stood, catching his arm. “Grab coffee with me.”

Noah blinked. “What?”

“Coffee. Off campus. Come on.”

“I’m not interested.”

“I’m buying.”

Noah crossed his arms. “You’re gonna get me a black coffee?”

“You might end up buying for me.”

Noah scoffed. “What am I supposed to—”

Jay almost laughed. He reached out and grabbed Noah’s wrist.

“What are you—?”

Jay refused to let go. “Just follow me.”

“I—Jay, I have class—”

“Skip it.”

“I can’t just—”

“You can. One coffee, that’s all.”

Noah tugged his arm back. “Let go.”

“Nope.”

“Jay—”

“Carter, quit whining and walk.”

Noah shot him a glare, but yeah, he followed anyway.

Jay didn’t lead him straight out front. Nope, he took off down a half-forgotten hallway past old science labs, right by a janitor’s closet, through a door marked“Maintenance Only.”

“We can’t—” Noah started.

Jay grinned. “Of course we can.”

Jay moved like he’d memorized the place. Left, right, down a metal staircase.

At the bottom, Jay tapped something into his phone, shoved open another door.

No alarms. Nothing.

They stepped into a maintenance lot, surrounded by weird tools and junk. Not a soul in sight.

“How do you....” Noah started, confused.

“Maintenance code. The door’s never locked properly.”

“How’d you figure that out?”

Jay shrugged. “Nobody pays attention except for me.”

He followed the fence, found a gap, ducked through.

Noah hesitated, then slid after him.

Suddenly, they were outside school, walking down a quiet street.

Noah glanced back at the building, the fence. “You do this all the time?”

“When I need to.”

“And nobody ever catches you?”

“Not unless you’re an idiot.”

They kept walking. The neighborhood was silent, just trees and parked cars nobody noticing two teens wandering around.

“You’re insane,” Noah said.

“Maybe.”

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“Nope.”

“You’re sure?”

Jay stopped and looked him dead in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

Noah froze, uncertain.

Jay waited. After a moment, Noah looked away and kept walking. Jay fell in next to him, silent.

Inside the coffee shop, it was warm and packed. Jay ordered something ridiculous; Noah got just black coffee. They took the window seat.

“Why are you doing this?” Noah blurted.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

“All of it. Helping with the essay, dragging me off campus, buying coffee. You could hang out with literally anyone at Westbridge so why me?”

Jay put down his phone, thinking it over.

“You want the real answer?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Jay went quiet, staring out the window for longer than Noah expected.

Three months ago, scholarship orientation.

Jay definitely didn’t belong there. His dad made him go, so he’d escaped down a hallway, bored out of his mind.

He spotted two boys at a table the smaller one clinging to a folder like drowning was possible. The other taller, wild hair and a look that screamed “someone rescue me.”

Then this upperclassman swaggered over, scholarship nametag dangling. “So, you guys are the new scholarship kids, right?”

Joe nodded, nervous as hell.

“I got mine last year,” said the upperclassman, sizing them up. “Honestly, the selection’s gone downhill. Not sure you two deserve it. They probably passed over better candidates.”

Joe’s face turned deep red. He shrank.

The tall kid looked up, calm. “Must suck,” he said, steady as stone, “winning a scholarship and still being insecure.”

The older guy stiffened. “What’d you say?”

“You heard me.”

“You don’t know—”

“And you don’t know us. We’re even.” He turned to Joe. “Come on.”

The jerk just stood there, furious.

Jay watched, something sharp cutting through him.

That kid with the wild hair didn’t yell or flinch, just took it head-on and left.

Jay wanted to know who he was.

But when he looked again, he was gone. For weeks, Jay scanned faces, asked around no dice for a quick-talking, fearless scholarship guy.

Until three weeks ago.

Noah Carter transferred in.

Jay realized the kid he’d been searching for was right there every day.

Jay blinked, snapped back into the coffee shop.

Noah waited for an answer.

Jay nudged his cup. “You don’t play by the same rules.”

Noah frowned. “Huh?”

“You just say what you mean, and you don’t back down, and you don’t care how people think you should act.”

Noah’s jaw tightened. “That’s not much of an answer.”

“It is,” Jay said. “You just don’t like it.”

That shut Noah up.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but Jay’s look told him there was nothing else he needed to say.

Jay sipped his coffee.

They didn’t talk for the rest of their time there.