Terms And Tension

Skye forced herself to focus, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck, and pressed the pen to the paper. Her signature came out shaky, the ink smudging slightly as it looped across the page.

Principal Graves’ voice, warm and overly enthusiastic, droned on about the fundraiser’s potential. “I need you two to make this year’s Valentine’s Day Fundraiser a memorable one.” But Skye barely registered her words. Her pulse thudded in her ears, drowning out everything except the reality of what she’d just done, tied herself to a project with Knox Callahan, of all people.

Knox leaned back in his chair, his broad body relaxed but his expression anything but a smug half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” he said, his voice low and laced with a taunting edge, as if he already anticipated her struggling under the weight of their partnership. Though, he already knew her as the new student.

Skye’s fingers tightened around the pen. She wanted to snap back, to wipe that smirk off his face, but Principal Graves’ beaming smile stopped her. “I’m so excited to see what you two come up with,” the principal said, clapping her hands together as if they’d just volunteered for a noble cause. “You’re dismissed. Get started as soon as you can!”

Skye stood, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and avoided Knox’s gaze as she headed for the door. He rose too, his movements fluid and unhurried with both hands in his pockets, his duffel bag swinging lightly at his side. The hallway outside was a flurry of activity, students rushing to their next classes, lockers slamming, voices overlapping in a chaotic hum. Before Skye could escape into the crowd, Maya’s eyes fell on her from a long distance.

“Hey!” Marya called.

“Principal Graves paired me with Knott.” Said Skye.

“What? And you accepted?” Marya snapped and Skye nodded.

“I had no choice.”

“You’re not serious,” Maya said, grabbing Skye’s arm and pulling her to the side. Her voice was a hushed, an urgent whisper, barely audible over the hallway noise. “Knox Callahan? Skye, working with him is social suicide. He’s untouchable, and not in a good way. Everyone’s going to be watching you now.”

Skye sighed, shifting uncomfortably as she adjusted her backpack. “It’s just a project, Maya,” she said, her tone firm but lacking conviction. “A stupid school assignment. It’s not like I’m joining his fan club.”

Maya’s brows arched, her expression skeptical. “Sure, but you’re not invisible anymore. Hope you know that?”

Skye stuttered some incomplete words. “I…”

“Well, good luck with that.” Marya added casually, her ponytail bouncing as she turned to head toward her next class. “I’m late for my class. Text me if you need an escape plan.”

Skye watched her cousin disappear into the crowd, her stomach twisting in a mess of what she had gotten herself into. Maybe she should have rejected the offer right there. Maya wasn’t wrong. Being paired with Knox was like stepping into a spotlight she’d spent years avoiding. She squared her shoulders and headed toward the exit, determined to keep this as professional as possible. It was just a fundraiser. She could handle it.

By the afternoon, Skye found herself at the Stonebridge ice rink, their agreed-upon meeting spot with Knox to start the planning as instructed by the principal. The air was sharp and slightly cold. She stood at the edge, her scarf pulled tight against the chill, her sketchpad still tucked under her arm.

The rink stretched out before her, its surface gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. Knox was already there, gliding across the ice with an ease that bordered on arrogance. His movements were precise, each stride powerful and controlled like a pro, his stick flicking a puck with a sharp crack that echoed through the empty arena. His dark hair was damp, sticking to his forehead, and his navy jacket hugged his broad shoulders as he moved.

Skye caught herself staring from where she stood and quickly looked away, her cheeks warming at his sight despite the cold. She stepped closer to the boards, her sneakers squeaking against the rubberized floor. Knox noticed her then, his gaze flicking up as he skated to a stop. He tucked his helmet under one arm, his face flushed from exertion, and glided toward her, his skates scraping softly against the ice.

“So, the fundraiser,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of that same haughty tone from the office. “Are you carrying this whole thing, or do you actually need help with my ideas?” He leaned against the boards, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and assessing her coldly that made her so uncomfortable.

Skye bristled, her fingers tightening around her sketchpad and trying not to break eye contact, “I’m not here to do all the work, if that’s what you’re thinking. Mrs Graves paired us for a reason and you don’t expect me to do all the work. You are not useless, are you?” she said, her voice steady despite the annoyance simmering in her chest as she wondered if she was being too rude. “I have ideas. Do you?” She added.

Knox’s lips twitched, almost a smirk. He stayed silent for some seconds before he finally replied. “I do. Plenty,” he said, reaching into his duffel bag and pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. He tossed it to her. “Take a look.”

Skye picked it up and unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning his messy handwriting. The list was ambitious to the point of absurdity, a school-wide talent show with professional lighting, a Valentine’s Day dance with a live band, a hockey game and a fireworks display. Each idea was bigger, flashier, and more expensive than the last. She looked up, incredulous. “Fireworks? Seriously? Do you know how much that would cost?”

Knox shrugged, unbothered. “People show up for a spectacle. You want them to care, you give them something big.”

“Or we could do something realistic,” Skye countered, her voice sharp. “Like a charity skate. People pay to skate, maybe we organize a fun game or something. And an art auction, local artists, students, whatever. It’s simple, but it works.”

Knox’s brows shot up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he masked it with a grudging smile that did not reach his eyes. “Didn’t think you had it in you,” he said, his tone caught somewhere between a compliment and a challenge. He crossed his arms, his helmet still tucked under one arm. “Fine. Charity skate, art auction. But we’re adding a raffle. Something to get people excited.”

Skye hesitated, then nodded. “Deal. But we split the work evenly. I’m not doing this alone.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment without a response.

Skye was about to suggest they wrap up when the electricity lights flickered on and off and finally went out with a soft pop without coming on again, plunging the rink into darkness. The emergency lights kicked on, casting a dim, greenish glow across the ice but the light was good as useless. The rink still looked dark.

Skye’s breath caught, her heart picking up speed. She could just make out Knox’s silhouette, closer than she’d realized as he spoke. “Guess we’ve got more to talk about after all,” he said, his voice low and closer than it should have been, carrying a teasing breath that made the skin in between her neck prickle.

Before she could respond, a new sound cut through the silence. It was a slow, deliberate footsteps echoing from the far side of the rink. Skye’s head snapped toward the noise, her pulse racing. Knox's head turned in the same direction. In the faint emergency light, neither of them could see who or what was coming.