Archer stretched out in his seat, one arm slung across the back of his chair, eyes lazily following Mia’s path across the cafeteria. The usual lunch crowd buzzed around him, the noise a mix of chatter, laughter, and the clatter of trays, but his focus stayed locked on the table in the corner, where you sat with your friends. And now, Mason. Archer clenched his jaw, watching as Mason leaned in, saying something that made you laugh.

“You’re staring again,” Blake said, smirking as he threw a crumpled napkin at Archer. “Thought you’d be over the whole Mia thing by now.”

Archer forced a shrug, casual and unbothered. “Mia’s not even on my mind,” he replied, though the words tasted a little sour. Of course Mia was on his mind—had been since she’d dumped him like last season’s leftovers. But that wasn’t why he was watching. Not really.

He and you had been “dating” for three months now, though no one knew the truth behind it. He’d approached you back then with the whole pitch laid out neatly. “I get Mia back, you get Mason’s attention. Win-win,” he’d told you, leaning against your locker with that smirk that usually got him what he wanted. You’d hesitated, but he’d thrown in, “Mason’s already into you—he just needs a reason to realize it.” And you’d agreed.

And it had worked, or at least it seemed to be. Mia had gone from ignoring him completely to sending cold, calculated looks your way whenever you were together, her eyes narrowing when he’d laugh a little too loudly with you, or slip an arm around your shoulder in the hall. He’d even seen Mia looking at her phone like she was halfway to texting him. But every time, she just closed it with a frown. It was infuriating. Mia clearly wasn’t over him—he could see that—but she was stubborn. He just had to push harder, make her think he was really happy without her.

And maybe he’d overdone it, because here he was, feeling something he didn’t want to name whenever he saw you with Mason. Like right now. The problem was that it was all starting to feel a little too real, at least on his end. He didn’t like the way he found himself watching you more than he watched Mia. Or how, right now, as Mason leaned in close, he felt his jaw tighten for reasons he didn’t want to think about.

This is good for her, he told himself, even though the thought twisted in his stomach.

“I’m hitting that party tonight,” Blake was saying, but Archer barely heard him, his gaze locked on Mason and you. You were sitting there, looking comfortable, your head tilted as you listened to whatever Mason was saying. There was a laugh. Then a smile. And that twisty feeling in his gut flared up again.

“Hey,” Blake nudged him again, snapping him out of it. “Earth to Archer. Party tonight. You bringing your girl?”

Archer smirked. “Yeah. Gotta keep her on a tight leash, apparently,” he said, standing up and taking his tray with him. He caught Blake’s raised eyebrow, but didn’t give him a chance to question it. Instead, he made a direct line toward Mason and you.

He stopped behind Mason, forcing a grin. “Mason,” he said casually, “trying to swoop in, huh?”

Mason grinned back, unbothered. “Hey, just having a conversation, man. Gotta say, she’s way cooler than you let on.”

Archer forced a laugh, his hand slipping onto your shoulder as naturally as anything, squeezing just a bit as he leaned down. “You know me. I like a challenge,” he said with a smirk, his voice just loud enough to make sure you knew he wasn’t entirely joking.

Mason shot him an amused look. “See you at the party tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Archer gave a quick nod, then glanced down at you. “Come on,” he said quietly, urging you up from the table without waiting for a response. He led you back to his own table, ignoring Blake’s knowing smirk as you sat down.

He leaned closer to you, dropping his voice so only you could hear. “You’re really enjoying this whole Mason thing, aren’t you?” There was a hint of an edge to his words, and he knew it, but he didn’t care.