Early morning light seeped through the curtains as Zayn stirred at the sound of his mother’s voice.

  “Zayn, wake up! It’s already time!”

  He groaned, reaching for his phone. 7:00 AM. He had to get ready for school, but sleep still clung to him, making it difficult to move.

  Half-awake, he heard voices from outside. His mother was at the main door, talking to someone. The cool morning breeze blew through the slightly open window, making the curtains sway. Then, as if sensing something, she looked straight toward his bedroom.

  Did she see me? No… there’s no way she could have.

  “Zayn, come out! Eva brought your cake,” his mother called.

  With a sigh, he tossed the sheets aside and got up. His loose T-shirt and trousers felt too comfortable to leave behind, but he dragged himself to the sink, splashed cold water on his face, and made himself look somewhat awake before stepping out of his room.

  Eva stood at the main door, tapping her shoe lightly against the floor, probably in a hurry for class. She wore a long-sleeved jacket over a cropped T-shirt and slim-fit jeans, her bag slung over her back. The moment she saw him, she set the cake down on the small table beside her and flashed him a bright smile.

  “Thanks for making the cake on such short notice,” he said, his voice still carrying the weight of sleep. He had texted her late at night, and she had somehow managed to get it done.

  “It’s okay,” she replied casually, adjusting the strap of her bag.

  She waved before turning to leave. Zayn watched her walk away, her figure growing smaller with each step. Just before disappearing into the morning mist, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

  “Zayn, get ready for school,” his mother reminded him, snapping him out of his daze.

  He sighed and closed the door behind him. As he turned around, he noticed Latten standing by her doorway, arms crossed.

  “Zayn, we need to talk.”

  Zayn was lost in thought, his mind drifting aimlessly, until the girl beside him nudged his arm.

  “What are you doing, Zayn?” Lily whispered.

  He blinked, snapping back to reality. His fingers had been absentmindedly carving into the wooden desk with the tip of his pen. He hadn't even realized it.

  “Nothing,” he muttered under his breath, keeping his voice low. The teacher was still in the middle of her lecture, and if she caught them whispering, they were doomed.

  Lily frowned and reached out, pressing a hand against his forehead as if checking for a fever.

  He frowned, shrugging her off. “I’m fine.”

  Before she could reply, the sharp voice of their teacher cut through the room.

  “What are you two doing?”

  Zayn stiffened. Lily, however, remained completely unfazed. She simply smiled at him before standing up confidently, nudging the desk slightly forward to make space. Every eye in the classroom turned toward them—not because the teacher had scolded them, but because Lily, the class’s sweetheart, was about to speak.

  “Teacher, Zayn isn’t feeling well. He’s dizzy,” she announced sweetly.

  Zayn’s jaw nearly hit the floor. What the hell is she saying?

  The teacher's gaze shifted to him, skeptical but considering the situation. Zayn was already trapped—he had no choice but to nod in agreement.

  “Teacher, can I take him to the sick room?” Lily asked.

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  She just wants to skip class, doesn’t she?

  The teacher sighed. “Fine, go ahead.”

  As they walked out of the classroom, Zayn could feel the envious stares burning into his back. He let out a small sigh and attempted to at least look like a sick person.

  “Lily, I didn’t ask for this,” he muttered. “What if she figures out we’re lying?”

  “She didn’t, did she?” Lily said smugly, hands in her pockets.

  Zayn had no comeback for that. He should have known arguing with her was pointless.

  As they passed by the basketball court, the place was as crowded as always. The seniors’ tournament was coming up, and Walter—the best player among them—was busy practicing with his team. Lily, with her usual confidence, spoke to him, and within seconds, they were allowed to sit in the corner and watch.

  Then, out of nowhere, she turned to him with a small grin. “Happy birthday.”

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a keychain, handing it to him.

  Zayn looked at it, then back at her, puzzled. “You didn’t have to—”

  “Well, I couldn’t think of anything better,” she cut in quickly. “And if I got you a bigger present, someone would see me giving it to you, and then the whole class would find out it’s your birthday. They’d make a huge fuss about it, and you hate attention on your birthday, right?”

  She was rambling now, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. No wonder she was everyone’s favorite.

  “Right,” he admitted. “And I like this.”

  She looked relieved.

  “You two can go now,” Walter said. “Classes are over.”

  Zayn headed straight to the library. He usually went there after class since it was the only time he could study in peace. He was regretting not paying attention to the lecture earlier—it made his homework ten times harder. After struggling with it for a while, he gave up and put his books aside, opting instead to grab a fiction novel from his reading list.

  The school library remained open until evening, and though students usually stayed, today it was completely empty. Most were busy preparing for an upcoming school event.

  He pulled out a chair, sat down, and let himself get lost in the book.

  Then—

  “What are you reading?”

  Zayn nearly jumped out of his seat. He had been sure he was alone. Turning around quickly, he found Jim leaning casually against the bookshelf, hands tucked into his jeans pockets.

  “Damn it, Jim.” Zayn exhaled, steadying his heartbeat. “What are you doing here? How did you even get in? Didn’t the guards stop you?”

  “They’re too busy helping with the event,” Jim replied smoothly. “I just came to check if you were okay.”

  “I am okay,” Zayn lied, already reaching for his bag.

  Jim raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what Lily said. She told me you were carving into your desk during class.”

  Zayn froze for a second before sighing.

  Jim stepped closer, his expression softening. “Listen, if something’s bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?”

  Zayn hesitated, then forced a small smirk. “If I ever have a problem, you’d be the first to know. I don’t usually hide things from you, do I?”

  Jim studied him for a moment before nodding, letting it go. “Are you heading home?”

  “Yeah, it’s getting late. My mom will start worrying.”

  Jim paused, then casually asked, “Want a ride?”

  Zayn squinted at him suspiciously. “Why? I can get home myself.”

  Jim looked away, clearing his throat. “Well, um… You look tired.”

  Zayn smirked. “Don’t make excuses. You just want to meet Lateen.”

  Jim stiffened at being caught, then sighed. “Shut up and get in the car.”

  Jim had been his friend since the third grade. Though he was a year older and had switched schools after the tenth standard, he still visited often. And, of course, Zayn knew exactly why—Jim had a crush on his cousin, Lateen, who lived with him.

  At the moment, Zayn was lounging on the couch, watching TV, while Jim was busy annoying Lateen as usual. He had conveniently "forgotten" to mention that Lateen didn’t like Jim. In fact, she had made it very clear on multiple occasions that Zayn should stop bringing him over.

  After a while, his mother walked in carrying a cake.

  "Cake? Is something special today, Aunty?" Jim asked, his eyebrows raised.

  His mother chuckled. "Oh dear, did you forget? It’s Zayn’s birthday! He turned eighteen today."

  Jim froze, his face a mix of shock and embarrassment. His best friend’s birthday, and he had completely forgotten. He looked toward Zayn for help, but Zayn simply turned away, pretending not to notice. In reality, he was holding back laughter. Seeing Jim speechless—especially in front of Lateen—was too funny.

  The moment stretched awkwardly until Zayn couldn’t contain himself anymore. He burst out laughing, breaking the tension in the room. His mother, Lateen, and even Jim eventually joined in, the awkwardness fading into lighthearted amusement. As Jim shot him a grateful look that silently said, You saved me, bro, Zayn only smirked in response.

  The rest of his birthday went by peacefully, just the way he liked it. He had never been a fan of big crowds, so he always kept celebrations limited to family. Not that it ever stopped Jim, Jack, or sometimes Riley from showing up uninvited.

  Later that night, Zayn was lying in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. His bedroom window offered a clear view of the living room in the house next door. When he glanced up, he noticed the lights were still on.

  Lifting his head slightly, he peered through the window. She was standing in the kitchen, carefully icing a cake. Is she making a cake? But for whom?

  Just as he was trying to figure it out, she suddenly stopped.

  A thought crossed his mind. Wait… does she know I’m watching?

  Panicking, he threw his phone aside, pulled the covers over his head, and shut his eyes tightly, as if pretending to be asleep would erase what had just happened.