The community hall was alive with music and laughter, every surface plastered with fake cobwebs and paper bats. The Halloween party was in full swing, and Gerard “Gibsie” Gibson was leaning against the snack table, arms folded, watching the dance floor with a scowl he didn’t bother to hide.

Jiji was there. Of course she was there.

She stood out like she always did, dressed in her paint-splattered overalls as Kat from 10 Things I Hate About You. It was supposed to be a joke costume, meant to match Gibsie’s Patrick Verona getup—just friends, she’d said with that teasing smile that made his heart twist. And now? Now she was laughing with some lad from the rugby team, his hands on her waist as they danced like they were the only two people in the room.

“Your face is going to stick like that,” Katie Wilmot said, sidling up beside him with a grin. She popped a piece of candy corn into her mouth and followed his gaze. “Oh,” she said knowingly. “That’s why.”

Gibsie scoffed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Katie smirked. “Sure you don’t. Come on, Gibs. Let’s dance.”

He shot her a look. “What?”

“To make her jealous,” Katie said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Besides, Hughie’s dancing with Lizzie, and I can’t let Jiji have all the fun.”

Before he could protest, Katie grabbed his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor. Gibsie’s heart thumped wildly—not because of Katie, but because of the way Jiji’s eyes flicked toward him from across the room. Even through the crowd, he felt the sting of her gaze.

“You’re stiff as a board,” Katie teased, pulling him closer. “Relax, Gibson. Pretend you’re having fun.”

He forced a grin. “I’m having loads of fun.”

Katie leaned in, her voice dropping. “Kiss me.”

Gibsie blinked. “What?”

“Kiss me. She’s watching.”

He froze. He knew he shouldn’t. But then his eyes found Jiji again, the way her smile faltered, the way she stopped dancing, and something in him snapped. He leaned down and kissed Katie.

It was brief—awkward, even—but it didn’t matter. Because when he pulled away, Jiji was gone.

“Jiji!”

Gibsie shoved his way through the crowd and sprinted out into the night. The music from the hall faded behind him, replaced by the crunch of leaves under his boots and the pounding of his own heartbeat. He spotted her just ahead, walking fast down the empty road, her shoulders stiff, her braid swaying.

“Oi! Jiji, wait up!” he called, his breath catching. “It wasn’t—wait, please!”

She didn’t slow. He jogged until he was only a few feet away. The streetlight above them flickered, casting her in gold and shadow. She stood there, her back to him, shoulders trembling like she was holding the whole world in.

“Jiji,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean—”