Travis walked into the room with his rage from earlier still burning. His cheeks hadn't cooled down, and his pulse still raced when he thought about Jordan's statements.

It was all a joke.

It was necessary.

Jordan was constantly joking.

But Travis was still unable to forget.

He unpacked his notes and told himself that Jordan would go back to his throne in the middle row, surrounded by his followers, as he slipped into his regular seat at the back by the window.

But naturally, it didn't.

Because Jordan sat down in the empty chair next to Travis after going directly past his typical location.

Aloud. In a dramatic fashion. accompanied by a smile that forewarned of danger.

The lesson fell silent. Everyone's head turned. Whispers rippled across the room in an instant.

With his pen halfway out of his pencil case, Travis stopped. "What are you doing?"

Leaning back as if he were in charge, Jordan stated, "Naturally, I'm sitting next to you."

"This isn't your seat, you can't just—!"

“It appears to be now,” Jordan said, looking at the chair, then at Travis, then back at the chair.

Jordan came closer, his breath warming Travis's ear, before Travis could say more. "Unless you don't want me here."

With a hot face, Travis pulled back. "I don't!"

"Then say it louder," Jordan said, smirking. "I don't think the entire class heard you."

Travis shot him a hard stare, wishing his glasses had laser beams.

Their argument fortunately came to an end when the teacher entered the room, at least for 30 seconds.

Because Jordan began fighting desk wars right away.

He persisted in leaning over, peeking at Travis's notes, writing ridiculous doodles in the margins, tapping his pen against Travis's arm, and even attempting to balance his eraser on Travis's head.

"Cut it out!" Travis hissed, batting his hand away.

"Stop what?" Jordan asked innocently.

"You know what you're doing!"

Jordan moved closer, his smile growing. "Oh? So you do see me."

Travis was on the verge of bursting. He gripped his pen so tightly that it broke in two. Half the class turned to look when the loud bang reverberated across the space.

“Any problems, Mr. Moreno?” the instructor questioned, scowling.

"N-No, sir," Travis said, attempting to get beneath his desk.

With the most angelic grin imaginable, Jordan, of course, leaned back. "He's fine, sir. He's just... enthusiastic about his studies."

The class laughed. Travis claimed that his soul had left his body.

At noon, things had just gotten worse.

Jordan apprehended Travis in the corridor as he attempted to flee to the library, wrapping one of his arms over his shoulders as if they were close pals.

"Where do you believe you are headed, friend?"

"Not with you!" Travis retorted, attempting to get out of the situation.

"Come on. Eat with me," Jordan retorted, laughing.

"Eat with your friends!"

"Why, when I've got you?" Jordan asked, tilting his head.

Travis's heart skipped a beat, and he pushed Jordan's arm away. "Don't talk like that!"

"Why? Does it make your heart race?" Jordan questioned, stepping back in front of him with a smirk.

Travis's ears were burning. "No!"

"Liar," said Jordan, getting so near to Travis that he could feel his breath.

Jordan's alleged buddies emerged from the cafeteria doors just before Travis was about to lose it.

One of them cheered, "Ohhh, there they are! Lunchtime couple spotted!"

"Hey, Travis!" said another person with a chuckle. "Be careful—Jordan might steal your lunch and your heart."

Travis nearly cried out. Jordan, on the other hand, merely wrapped his arm around him once more and grinned at his pals.

“I’m getting fond of him, what can I say?”

The entire corridor exploded with laughter and whistles.

Travis desired to pass away.

However, despite the shame, his chest betrayed him once more, beating a bit too quickly and a bit too warmly.