Chapter 4

Yale had been sprawled over his desk. He only looked up when someone called his name.

Xandra, however, didn't go to him first. She walked straight over to my desk.

"Zoe, could I borrow your math notes?"

I looked up at her.

"Yale said yours are the easiest to understand. His grades have improved a lot lately, so thank you."

Thank you.

She said it so naturally, as if she were thanking me on Yale's behalf.

I closed my textbook. "Sorry. I don't have them with me."

The classroom went quiet for a few seconds before someone in the back muttered, "She can't even lend them out? That's kind of petty."

"I heard she only ever let Yale borrow them before."

"God, what a simp."

A chair suddenly scraped hard against the floor behind me.

Yale stood up. "Move. I'm going out."

The guy beside him hurriedly got out of the way. Yale didn't look at anyone as he walked straight out of the classroom.

Xandra watched him leave before turning back to me. She smiled.

"I'll ask you again next time, then."

Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "Oh, and thank you for the Southern University notes too. They're really thorough. I found them super helpful."

My fingers went still.

"What?"

Xandra blinked. "The blue notebook Yale has."

"You put together the admission scores from the past few years, rankings, and breakdowns of the different majors."

For a moment, my mind went completely blank.

The blue notebook.

I'd stayed up for three nights putting it together for Yale: five years of Southern University's admission cutoffs, its strongest majors, and a breakdown of the scores he'd need to aim for.

On the very last page, I'd even drawn a tiny smiley face and written carefully beside it:

[You can do it, Yale.]

I'd thought he would see it.

Instead, he'd given the notebook to Xandra.

I opened my textbook again and stopped looking at anyone.

"You don't have to thank me.

"If you find it useful, go ahead and use it."

This time, Xandra didn't smile. She studied me for a few seconds before finally saying, "Okay."

Then she turned and left.

Later, during the long break, I came back from the field and Quentin Zane, our class president, called me over.

He handed back my notebook, then passed me a bottle of yogurt.

"No wonder even Yale's grades went up after reading your notes. Your section on derivatives is ridiculously detailed. I understood it right away."

I pushed the yogurt back toward him. "You don't have to."

Quentin grinned. "Come on. Consider it payment for the tutoring."

I was about to refuse again, but he'd already gone back to his seat, so I set the yogurt on the corner of my desk.

I had just started to sit down when a familiar voice came from behind me.

"You lent him your notes?"

Yale was leaning against the classroom doorway.

I had no idea how long he'd been standing there. His eyes were fixed on the notebook in my hand, the one with the pale green cover and the worn corner at the bottom.

It used to be his alone.

I ignored him, sat down, and slipped the notebook into my desk.

The seat behind me stayed unusually quiet for the rest of the day.

After school, I stayed behind for cleaning duty. Jade had already left, leaving me alone in the classroom.

I finished wiping down the board, then bent to pick up a few broken pieces of chalk from the floor.

Just as I straightened, I heard footsteps behind me.

Yale had come back at some point.

He stood by the rear door with his uniform jacket slung over one shoulder, his hair slightly mussed from the wind.

I glanced at him, picked up my backpack, and headed for the door.

As I passed him, he stepped sideways and blocked my path.

"Zoe."

I looked up at him.

He hesitated for two seconds before asking, "Have you been mad at me lately?"