It was just past dusk when Joel found him.
Adam stood near the cycle shed, scrolling through his phone, probably waiting for the last few students to clear out before locking up.
Joel walked up slowly, hands in his pockets, casual in posture—but his eyes were sharp.
"Sir," he said, voice even.
Adam looked up, surprised. "Joel?"
"Forgot my headphones," he said with a faint smile. "Or maybe I didn't."
Adam's brows furrowed slightly. "Something you need?"
Joel stepped closer, letting the silence stretch before speaking.
"I saw you earlier," he said, tone still light—but every word deliberately placed. "With Elena. In the classroom."
Adam's expression didn't change. But his shoulders tensed—just barely.
"You were looking at her like she wasn't a student," Joel added.
A beat of stillness.
Adam didn't deny it. Didn't confirm it either.
"She's smart," Adam said calmly. "Focused. It's easy to admire that in a student."
Joel chuckled—low, bitter. "That's not what I saw."
Adam's jaw clenched.
"You're a teacher," Joel said, voice tightening now. "And she's still trying to figure out what she's feeling. I don't know what's going on in your head, but if this crosses a line... I will step in."
Adam met his gaze fully now.
"You think this is your business?"
Joel didn't flinch. "Maybe not. But maybe I don't like seeing people mess with something fragile. She's... different."
Adam's voice was quieter now, but edged. "You don't know her the way I do."
Joel tilted his head. "Maybe. But I see her now. And I know you do too."
They stood there, silence thick around them, two very different men drawn to the same storm.
Finally, Joel stepped back, tone suddenly cool again.
"Have a good night, sir."
He turned and walked off, but Adam didn't move.
Because Joel wasn't just a lazy boy with a guitar anymore.
He was a threat.
And the game had changed.