His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.

"Mira, who’s your friend?"

The voice came from behind her, smooth and casual, with an undercurrent of something that made Bella’s skin prickle.

She turned.

Three guys stood in the hallway, leaning against the lockers like they had nowhere else to be. The one in the middle was handsome. Sharp jaw, perfectly messy dark hair, eyes that held a lazy confidence. His friends flanked him like accessories, smirking, watching.

Mira’s face lit up. Her whole posture changed. Shoulders back, chin up, a breathless quality to her voice that Bella had never heard before.

"Noah! Hi," Mira said, her words tumbling out too fast.

Noah smiled at her, but his eyes slid past her face, past her glasses, past her eager expression, and landed on Bella.

"Just h-elping a n-ew stu-dent. I mean-- she is my friend," Mira said, stammering slightly, gesturing toward Bella. "This is Isabella. She just started yesterday."

"Isabella," Noah repeated, his lips curving. His gaze traveled over her. Her long brown hair falling in soft waves, her brown eyes warm and bright, her pink lips, the soft curve of her cheek, the gentle slope of her shoulder where her sweater had slipped. He took his time.

Bella’s smile stayed polite, but something cold settled in her stomach.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

Noah stepped closer, his friends following like shadows. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in expensive casual clothes that probably cost more than her textbooks. His eyes never left her face.

"You’re new?" he asked.

"Yesterday was my first day," Bella replied.

"How are you finding it?"

"Good," she said simply.

He laughed, a low, confident sound.

Mira stood beside Noah, her face still flushed, her eyes still fixed on his face like he was the sun and she was afraid of blinking and missing something important. She didn’t seem to notice that he wasn’t really looking at her. That his attention was on Bella. That his gaze kept drifting past her shoulder, past her glasses, past her eager expression, landing on the girl with the long brown hair and the soft cream sweater.

"I have to go to the admissions office to submit some documents," Bella said, stepping back. "I’m leaving."

She didn’t wait for a response. She turned and walked away, her hair swaying behind her.

Noah watched her go. His eyes followed the curve of her back, the fall of her hair, the gentle swing of her hips. A slow, self-satisfied smirk spread across his lips.

Karl saw it. His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

Noah’s gaze lingered on Bella’s retreating form until she disappeared around the corner. Then he turned back to Mira, gave her a lazy wink, and walked away with his friends, their laughter echoing down the hallway.

Mira stood there, her cheeks still pink, her heart still racing. She watched him go, oblivious to Karl’s glare.

"What’s wrong with you, Mira?" Karl’s voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet.

Mira startled, her head snapping toward him. "What’s wrong with me?" she asked.

"You like him." It wasn’t a question. Karl’s dark eyes were hard, his voice low. "You know he’s a playboy. He has a lot of girls. A LOT!"

Mira’s face crumpled. The flush in her cheeks drained away, leaving her pale. Her lips trembled.

"I know," she whispered. "But how can I control my feelings?"

Karl’s expression didn’t soften.

"He saved me," Mira continued, her voice cracking. "From bullies. From people who made my life miserable. He was there when no one else was." She pushed her glasses up, a nervous habit. "And I’m allowed to like him, aren’t I? Guys like him will never notice me anyway."

Karl opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stood there, frozen, as Mira’s eyes filled with tears.

She turned and walked away, her footsteps quick, her shoulders hunched.

Karl watched her go and sighed. What should he do with his best friend? If it were another guy, someone good, he would have supported her. But Noah? No way.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

Mira pushed open the door to the girls’ washroom and locked herself in a stall. She leaned against the cold metal, her forehead pressed to the door, and let the tears come.

She wasn’t beautiful. She knew that. Her glasses were too big, her hair was too plain, her smile was too shy. She wasn’t like Isabella, gorgeous and graceful and effortlessly stunning. She wasn’t an absolute diva like Krystal. She wasn’t the kind of girl that Noah noticed.

But she had hoped. Stupidly, foolishly, she had hoped.

She hiccupped, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her mascara was probably ruined. Her face was probably blotchy. She looked exactly how she felt. Small and ugly and invisible.

She took a breath. Then another.

She fixed her glasses, smoothed her hair, checked her reflection in the small mirror above the sink. Her eyes were red, her cheeks were damp, but it would have to do.

She walked out of the washroom.

Bella was standing outside, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, her brown eyes soft and worried.

Mira stopped. Her heart pounded.

"You..." Mira’s voice was hesitant. "Don’t you need to go to the admissions office?"

Bella shook her head. "I lied," she said.

Mira blinked. "What?"

"I never had any documents to submit. I just wanted to leave. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me." Bella pushed off the wall and stepped closer. Her eyes searched Mira’s face. The red eyes, the damp cheeks, the trembling lip. "You cried."

Mira looked down at her shoes. "I’m fine," she mumbled.

"You’re not fine." Bella’s voice was gentle. "And that’s okay."

Mira’s throat tightened. Tears welled up again, spilling over before she could stop them.

Bella didn’t say anything else. She just opened her arms and pulled Mira into a hug.

Mira stiffened at first. Surprised, uncertain. But Bella held her gently, her arms warm and secure. She didn’t ask questions. She just held her, one hand stroking Mira’s hair, the other patting her back in slow, soothing rhythms.

Mira’s shoulders shook. She buried her face in Bella’s shoulder and cried.

Bella didn’t rush her. Didn’t tell her to stop. She just stood there, holding her, letting her feel whatever she needed to feel.

The hallway was quiet. The afternoon light slanted through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor.

After a long moment, Mira’s sobs faded into sniffles. She pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I’m sorry," she mumbled.

"You don’t have to be sorry," Bella said.

"I must look terrible," Mira said, avoiding Bella’s gaze.

Bella tucked a strand of hair behind Mira’s ear. "No, you’re just sad. That’s all. There’s nothing terrible about that."

Mira smiled, lowering her eyelashes. Her cheeks were still damp, but something in her chest felt lighter.

"Come on," Bella said, linking their arms. "Let’s go to class. Karl’s probably waiting."