The gym was a blur of fake cobwebs, flickering orange lights, and pounding music. It smelled faintly of sweat, cheap punch, and too many costumes crammed into one space. Tadhg Lynch leaned against the wall, his plastic Viking helmet tucked under his arm, watching the dance floor. His costume—Hiccup from How to Train Your Dragon—was half-disheveled from the rugby match earlier that day, but it wasn’t like anyone was paying attention.

Except him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jiji.

She was Astrid tonight, all leather and braids, her white-blond hair glowing under the strobe lights. She was smiling—laughing—as some lad from the rugby team spun her around like she weighed nothing. Tadhg’s jaw clenched, something unpleasant twisting in his chest.

“You’re glaring,” Lizzie Young, Jiji’s best friend, said beside him, sipping from a plastic cup. “It’s not a good look.”

“I’m not glaring,” Tadhg muttered, tearing his eyes away.

Lizzie smirked knowingly. “Right. You’re just watching her dance with Mr. Tall-and-Blocky like it’s some kind of war crime.” She tilted her head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, Lynch. Dance with me.”

Tadhg blinked. “What?”

“To make her jealous,” Lizzie said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, Hughie’s busy with Katie over there. Let’s even the score.”

He hesitated. “Lizzie, this is—”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she interrupted, grabbing his wrist. “It’s a dance, not a marriage proposal.”

Before he could argue, she dragged him onto the dance floor. The music shifted to something slower, bass thrumming through the floor. Lizzie grinned up at him as they found a rhythm. “See? Not so bad.”

Tadhg’s eyes wandered past her, landing on Jiji again. She wasn’t laughing anymore. She was watching.

Lizzie leaned in, her voice cutting through the noise. “Kiss me.”

Tadhg nearly tripped. “What?”

“Kiss me,” she repeated with a smirk. “She’s looking.”

He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. But then Jiji’s eyes locked with his across the dance floor, and something reckless overtook him. He bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Lizzie’s lips.

When he looked up—Jiji was gone.

“Shit.” Tadhg pulled back immediately, his stomach sinking. “Lizzie—”

“She ran,” Lizzie said, already pointing toward the doors. “Go after her.”

Outside, the night air bit at his skin. He spotted her instantly, her braid swaying as she stormed down the empty road away from the school. “Jiji!” he called, jogging after her. “Wait—Oi, wait!”

She didn’t turn.

“Jiji, please! It wasn’t—” He stopped a few feet behind her, breathless. The street was quiet, just the soft patter of leaves rustling in the autumn wind. Her back was still to him, shoulders trembling.

“Jiji,” he tried again, his voice softer this time.