Chapter 5: Nesta

Nesta

⛸️

I twirled my pen between my fingers, the faint sound of Mr. Walker's voice filling the background of my thoughts, but I couldn't focus. My eyes kept drifting to the empty seat next to me—the one Ronan usually filled.

He had gone off for a quick one-on-one with Coach right before the bell rang. A few minutes, he had said. But it felt like hours.

Ronan and I were like... constants in each other's lives. We didn't talk about it, we just were—we sat next to each other in class, walked to lunch together, and hung out after school. If you asked me to picture my life, he was always there.

But now, here I was, alone. And it felt wrong. Empty.

The bell rang, pulling me from my thoughts. I packed up quickly, hoping maybe he'd be waiting by my locker, but as I turned the corner, I saw someone else.

"Akil," I muttered, irritation pooling in my chest as I saw him leaning against the lockers, his grin smug as ever.

"Hey, Nesta," he said, his voice too confident. "Where's your shadow today? Did Ronan finally get tired of babysitting you?"

I slammed my locker shut with more force than necessary. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere inflating your ego?"

"Ouch," he said, clutching his chest dramatically. "You know, you'd be a lot less angry if you just admitted you like me."

I let out a sharp laugh, sarcastic and dismissive. "Like you? Akil, I'd rather eat a hockey puck than—"

Before I could finish, he was too close, crowding me against the lockers.

"You're always so feisty," he said, his voice lowering in a way that made my skin crawl. "It's cute."

I shoved his chest, trying to create some space between us. "Well, you're not. Don't flatter yourself, Akil. The only thing cute about you is your ego."

His eyebrow arched, and he leaned in even closer. "Is that so? I think you're just mad because you know I'm right."

"Right about what?" I scoffed, turning my head to the side to avoid the close proximity of his breath. "That you think you're God's gift to hockey? Newsflash, not everyone is impressed by your whole 'cool guy' act."

He smirked like he knew exactly what he was doing. "Oh, I'm not worried. The girls at school don't seem to mind."

My pulse spiked, jealousy rising in my chest despite myself. "Yeah, because you're all tall and brooding. Must be tough being so perfect."

For the first time, his smirk faltered for a second. Then he crossed his arms, staring me down. "Perfect? Nah. But at least I don't hide behind the 'good girl' routine like you do. You're afraid of anything that isn't squeaky clean."

I could feel my breath quickening. "I'm not afraid of anything, Akil. I just don't need to screw up my life for attention."

"Yeah, 'cause you're too busy playing by the rules to actually live a little," he taunted, leaning forward again. "You think you're fucking better than me?"

I shook my head, frustration bubbling over. "No, I think you're a self-absorbed jerk who can't see beyond his own reflection. And trust me, you're not as damn impressive as you think."

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze intense, like he was trying to figure me out. "You talk a lot of big words for someone who's just mad you're not getting the attention you think you deserve."

I glared at him, my heart racing. "I don't need attention, Akil. I'm fine without it."

He stepped back, that infuriating smirk returning. "If you say so, Nesta. If you say so."

I couldn't hold back anymore. "Just fucking back off," I snapped, shoving him away.

In that moment, his water bottle slipped from his hand, splashing everywhere—on my shoes, on the floor, a mess all around us.

"Oh, great," I muttered, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "Now you're clumsy and obnoxious."

"It was an accident," he said, though his smirk made it seem anything but accidental.

Before I could respond, a voice cut through the tension.

"What's going on here?"

We both froze. Mrs. Lark, the hall monitor, stood there, eyeing the mess and our annoyed expressions.

"Nothing," I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Doesn't look like nothing," she said, crossing her arms and giving us both a pointed look. "Both of you—detention. My room. After school."

"What?!" Akil and I said in unison.

"No arguing," she said firmly, pointing down the hall. "Get to class before you're late."

I shot Akil a death glare, but he only called after me with that smirk still plastered on his face. "See you in detention."

I groaned, already dreading the afternoon.

❤︎

The clock on the wall ticked slower than I thought humanly possible. Time felt like it was moving backward. Detention wasn't how I had planned to spend my afternoon.

I glanced sideways at Akil, who was slouched in the chair next to me, tapping his pen against the desk like he didn't have a care in the world. Mrs. Lark sat at the front of the room, typing away on her computer, ignoring the two of us as if we were invisible.

"Can you sit still for two damn seconds?" I hissed, my patience wearing thin as his pen drummed against the desk over and over.

"Why?" Akil smirked, his voice teasing. "Is it bothering you?"

"Obviously," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "Do you have to be this annoying all the time, or is it a special performance just for me?"

"Oh, it's just for you," he replied, a grin spreading across his face. "You bring out the best in me."

I groaned, leaning back in my chair with my arms crossed. "Unbelievable."

The silence dragged on for a whole thirty seconds before he leaned in, his voice low. "Admit it—this is your fault."

"My fault?" I turned to face him, incredulous. "How is this my fault?"

"You shoved me first," he said, a smug look on his face.

"You were the one who got in my face!" I shot back, frustration creeping into my voice.

"I was just saying hi," he said with an innocent shrug.

"Oh, please," I snorted. "You were practically breathing down my neck."

"Maybe I just wanted to be close to you," he said, leaning a little closer. That stupid smirk never left his face.

"Or maybe you just don't understand personal space," I retorted, glaring at him.

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. "You're fun when you're mad, you know that?"

I buried my face in my palms, exasperated. "This is torture."

"Come on, it's not that bad," he said, his grin widening. "You've got me for company."

"Exactly my point," I muttered.

He laughed again, and for a moment, despite myself, I found a smile tugging at my lips.

"Okay, fine," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Maybe it was slightly my fault."

"Slightly?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright. Mostly my fault," he admitted with a playful smirk.

"Thank you," I said, leaning back in my chair triumphantly.

"But you did shove me," he added, his grin widening again.

"You deserved it," I snapped, a smirk playing on my own lips.

Before he could respond, Mrs. Lark shot us both a sharp look from her desk. "Enough," she said, her voice stern.

We both shut up immediately, exchanging a quick glance before stifling our laughter.

The rest of detention crawled by, but I couldn't help but feel... less irritated than I expected. As much as Akil annoyed me, there was something about his stupid grin and quick comebacks that made the whole thing a little less unbearable.

The second Mrs. Lark dismissed us, I was out of my seat like a shot, grabbing my bag as if the desk might swallow me whole.

"Eager to leave, huh?" Akil said, slinging his backpack over one shoulder as he followed me out of the room.

"You'd be eager too if you had to sit next to yourself for an hour," I shot back, letting the door swing shut behind us.

He snorted. "Come on, admit it—you had fun."

"If by fun you mean resisting the urge to strangle you, then sure," I said, smirking as we walked down the hallway together.

The halls were mostly empty now, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. We pushed through the double doors leading to the parking lot, the cool air hitting me like a breath of fresh freedom.

"Alright, which one's yours?" Akil asked, glancing around at the rows of cars.

"Over there," I said, nodding toward my beat-up sedan parked near the back.

"Classic," he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"What about you?" I asked. "Where's your fancy ride?"

He pointed to a sleek black Jeep parked a few spaces over, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, he had a car that screamed "I'm trying to be cool but also rugged."

As we walked toward our cars, the conversation shifted.

"So," Akil started, his voice casual as he fell into step beside me. "What's next for you, princess of detention? Another thrilling evening of thinking about me?"

"Please," I said, snorting. "You're giving yourself way too much credit. If I ever think about you after this, it'll only be to remind myself how not to live my life."

"Sure, sure," he said, grinning. "Deny it all you want, Nes. I live rent-free in that head of yours, and you know it."

I rolled my eyes, refusing to take the bait. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

He chuckled, low and smug, and I could tell he was about to say something that would make me want to strangle him. I cut in fast. "So, you ready for playoffs, or are you planning on choking?"

His smirk faltered just slightly, like I'd poked a bruise. "Please. I don't choke," he said, voice tight. "Coach has been grinding us. Every practice feels like another test. Scouts breathing down your neck, everyone waiting for you to screw up—yeah, it's intense. But I can handle it."

I tilted my head, arching a brow. "That's not what I heard. Thought you blew that last drill wide open."

His eyes narrowed. "Funny, coming from you. I didn't realize sitting on the sidelines gave you expert analysis."

"Oh, I don't need a front-row seat to notice when you're off your game," I shot back, smirking.

He stopped walking and turned toward me, jaw flexing. "Careful, Nes. One of these days, you're gonna say the wrong thing."

I barked out a laugh. "What, you'll cry about it? Or finally admit I'm right?"

Akil leaned in a fraction, that infuriating gleam in his eye. "Nah. I think you'll slip first. You've got a tell."

My stomach lurched, but I masked it with a scoff. "A tell?"

"Yeah." His grin curved slow and sharp. "You get defensive whenever Ronan's name comes up. I think you've got a thing for him."

The words hit like a sucker punch. My throat tightened, but I rolled my eyes hard enough to cover it. "Wow. Congratulations. You've officially run out of insults."

"Oh-ho." He dragged out the sound, clearly enjoying himself. "Usually, you've got a comeback. Did I actually hit a nerve?"

"You wish," I snapped, pushing past him toward my car.

He followed, cocky as ever. "Not denying it, though."

I unlocked my door with more force than necessary. "Goodbye, Akil."

He stepped back, smirk firmly in place. "See you around, nerd."

I slammed the door, refusing to look at him as he sauntered off. But my pulse betrayed me, thundering in my ears.

Because as much as I wanted to bury it, he wasn't entirely wrong.

And that was the part I hated most.