Chapter 2: The Buffer

Jake 👦🏼

The park buzzed with the chaos of the photography club’s charity photoshoot. Cameras snapped, cheerleaders giggled, and my football teammates flexed as if auditioning for a superhero movie. The event, a calendar shoot for the children’s hospital, was supposed to be a quick favor—a good cause with the football team and cheer squad posing together. Instead, it felt like I’d stumbled into a campus romantic comedy, miscast as the lead opposite Sarah, the head cheerleader. To make matters worse, her ex, Vance—our team captain—lurked by the stone fountain, his glare sharp enough to cut through the mist spraying my shirt.

Sarah’s hand lingered on my arm, her touch warm through the damp fabric. Her green eyes locked onto mine as the photographer shouted, “Look natural!” Her gaze carried an intensity that felt like she was selling a story I hadn’t read.

Then came the “candid” ice-cream shot. She leaned in close, her breath tickling my cheek. Her lips grazed mine in a fleeting kiss I couldn’t dodge. She didn’t back away. As the camera continued to click, she deepened the kiss. The photographer whistled. The crowd hooted and cheered us on. Vance’s stare burned into my back. My stomach twisted. There was nothing candid about the moment. It was a planned spectacle. This isn’t what I signed up for.

I caught a glimpse of Emily across the park. She’d stopped by to drop off my forgotten water bottle. Her oversized hoodie swallowed her frame. Her spectacles slipped down her nose as she waved awkwardly before disappearing into the crowd. Even in that shapeless outfit, she radiated a quiet, familiar light that tugged at my chest.

Sarah’s gaze snapped toward her, lingering with a spark I couldn’t decipher. What was that about? Last week, in the cafeteria, Sarah had grilled me about Emily’s coding skills, her eyes tracking Em’s messy bun like she was solving a puzzle. That memory set my nerves on edge. It wasn’t just jealousy, but something deeper I couldn’t name.

I’m not your typical jock. Football was just a shortcut to avoid extra electives, not a ticket to this soap opera. Emily had warned me about Sarah’s drama, her voice sharp but warm as she tugged me back to our chess game code.

“Don’t let her rope you into anything,” she’d said, her eyes bright behind her spectacles.

For a shy coder, Em has a knack for reading people. Thinking of her made my chest ache. Last month, she stayed up until 3 a.m. debugging our game, her bun unraveling, her soft laugh filling the room as she teased my sloppy code. In that moment, I’d wanted to kiss her, her passion lighting up everything around us. But I froze. What if she laughed it off? Or worse, what if I ruined the best thing in my life?

“Smile, Jake!” the photographer barked.

Sarah pressed closer, her red nails brushing my jaw. “You’re killing it,” she purred, loud enough for Vance to hear.

My teammates whistled, and my face burned. Great, I’m a prop in her drama. My mind flickered, picturing Emily’s mocking grin superimposed over Sarah’s face, her glasses fogging as she teased my coding typos. God, I’m a mess.

Bella, Sarah’s cheerleader roommate, waved from the sidelines. “Work it, Jake!” she called, her grin infectious. But her eyes flicked to Sarah with a protective edge, as if she sensed trouble brewing.

“You good?” Sarah asked, her voice dropping to an almost genuine tone.

“I’m thinking about the Geek Pride Fair,” I said, dodging her question. “Em and I are working on our knight-pawn game.”

“Oh, your chess thing with Emily?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, too eager. “She’s intense about that stuff, huh?” The way she said Em’s name felt off. It was like she was savoring it.

The photographer waved us over for one last shot, the fountain glowing gold under string lights. “Wrap!” he called. I exhaled, ready to escape. But Sarah looped her arm through mine. “Food to celebrate?” she said, her voice dripping with charm.

I stopped and faced her. “Sarah, level with me. What’s this about? I’m not your prop.”