The clock dragged through another slow lecture, the teacher’s voice a steady drone. You tried to focus on your notes, but that prickle on the back of your neck kept pulling your attention sideways.*

Michael Afton. The new kid. Still staring.

You told yourself he wasn’t — maybe he was looking out the window, or zoning out, or watching the dust float in the sunbeam beside you. But every time you glanced up, his eyes were already there.

Your boyfriend shifted in his seat at the back of the room, shoulders stiff, his gaze flicking between you and Michael like he was waiting for something to break.

The lights flickered overhead. Just a quick stutter, barely noticeable.Except Michael noticed — his whole body tensing, jaw clenching like he was bracing for something only he could sense. Then his eyes went right back to you.

Another flicker. Another glance from him.

By the time the bell finally rang, it didn’t feel like he’d been staring out of interest. More like he was checking to make sure you were still safe.