Academically Yours (Jayfer)

Chapter 2
Jayjay’s POV

Sleep didn’t happen. Again.

Instead, I spent the entire night hunched over my laptop, typing and retyping the same paragraph for my Strategic Management essay. Every line felt wrong. Too weak. Too basic. Too average.

I wasn’t aiming to pass — I was aiming to prove something.

The essay was due next week. But if it wasn’t flawless by tonight, how could I call myself anything but a fraud?

By the time the sun began leaking through my curtains, my hands were stiff, my eyes dry, and my body screaming for rest. I ignored all of it. Threw on a blazer. Tied my hair back. Dabbed concealer under eyes that had seen better weeks.

In class, I took my usual front-row seat. Highlighters aligned. Pen poised. I was ready.

Or so I thought.

Because even as I focused on the lecture, I couldn’t shake the feeling — this burning, annoying presence — like someone was trying to set fire to the back of my skull with their stare.

I didn’t need to look.

I knew it was him.

Keifer Watson. Mr. Academic Rival slash Campus Menace.
Probably smirking. Probably thinking he was smarter than me.
Which he wasn’t. Obviously.

I didn’t turn around. Didn’t give him the satisfaction. I just clenched my jaw, took notes harder than I needed to, and pretended I wasn’t seconds from snapping a pen in half.

At lunch, I sat with my girls — Freya and Bianca — in our usual booth at the corner café across from campus. It was the only place that didn’t feel like a battlefield.

“Is it just me,” Freya said, swirling her straw, “or was Keifer extra interested in the back of your head today?”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “He was totally staring at you.”

I rolled my eyes. “He probably had nothing better to look at. Or maybe he was trying to use telepathy to steal my notes.”

Bianca leaned in, grinning. “Or maybe he just likes you and doesn’t know how to act like a normal human.”

“I’d rather date a textbook,” I muttered, stabbing my fork into a sad piece of lettuce.

“Maybe you already have,” Freya teased. “I’ve never seen anyone look at an essay with that much emotion.”

“Guys, seriously,” I said, but my ears were already warm. “Can we not start a fanfiction?”

But it was too late. They were already giggling like they’d uncovered a scandal.

After my final class, I didn’t go home. I couldn’t.
There was too much to do. Too much to perfect.

So I went to the library instead.
Same seat. Same silence. Same slowly unraveling mind.

I revised reports until the numbers danced in front of my eyes. Reread a case study three times and still couldn’t focus. Thoughts kept looping in circles.

What if 99 isn’t enough?
What if Keifer beats me?
What if I don’t get the internship?
What if I never prove I’m worth it?

My hands trembled slightly as I turned another page, heart racing for no reason.

And then —

“Wow,” a voice said beside me. “Still here? You know they say too much brilliance can cause brain damage.”

I didn’t need to look up.

Keifer.

I closed my eyes. Took a breath. “Don’t you have somewhere else to bother?”

He slid into the seat across from me like he had every right to be there. “Nah. The view’s better here.”

There it was — that barely-there tone. Just a touch too casual. Just enough edge to make me want to throw my textbook at him.

“Is that your flirting voice?” I asked flatly. “Because if it is, you should get a refund.”

He grinned. “Who said I was flirting?”

“You’re always flirting. With yourself. With life. With chaos.”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You sound obsessed.”

“You sound like someone I want to throw off a bridge,” I snapped, slamming my book shut.

“That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

I stood, grabbing my bag. “Good. Drown in it.”

He followed — of course he did — tossing a lazy “See you in class, sunshine,” over his shoulder before heading off like he hadn’t just spent five minutes derailing my mental stability.

That night, I was back at my desk. Eyes stinging. Notes scattered. The pressure in my chest sitting heavy, like a weight I couldn’t remove.

I kept studying. Rewriting. Memorizing.

Because if I stopped, the thoughts would catch up.

And they did.

I have to visit Angelo tomorrow.

My cousin. The one I lived with all throughout high school. The one who believed success only came with sacrifice. That love had to be earned.

I wanted to prove him wrong.
But deep down, a part of me still wondered...

What if he was right?

My fingers trembled around my pen. I gripped tighter.

No.

I just had to be better. Smarter. Perfect.

Then maybe, finally, I’d be enough.