Chapter 32
Miles knew it was bad when he got called to the principal’s office and saw his mom already sitting there. She was in her work scrubs, her arms crossed, her face set in that exact look that meant he was in deep trouble but she wasn’t gonna show it just yet.
“Mami,” he said carefully.
She raised an eyebrow. “Miles.”
The principal gave the usual spiel—missed classes, slipping grades, noticeable fatigue. Miles wanted to shrink into his chair. He had no idea how to explain away half of it without revealing a secret identity.
After the meeting, she pulled him aside outside. “¿Qué está pasando contigo, Miles? You’re smart, mi amor, but you’re not invincible. I know something’s going on. You need to talk to me.”
He sighed, eyes on the pavement. “I’m just tired. Everything’s just… a lot.”
“You can’t fix everything by yourself,” she said. “And no more skipping meals. You look pale.” Then her tone softened. “You have people who care about you.”
As if summoned, Gwen popped around the corner of the hallway. “Hey, Miles. Oh—hi! Sorry, am I interrupting?”
Rio looked her over, then smiled just slightly. “You’re Gwen?”
“Y-Yeah.” Gwen offered a small wave, and then looked at Miles. “I brought your physics book. You left it in class.”
“Gracias, Gwen,” Rio said, giving her a look that hovered between impressed and approving. “Thanks for being there for him.”
Gwen smiled gently, then glanced at Miles. “He’s there for all of us too.”
And just like that, Miles’s heart calmed a bit.
Miles stood awkwardly at Señor Rodriguez’s desk after class, the last of his classmates trickling out of the room.
“You wanted to talk to me, sir?”
Señor Rodriguez looked up from grading with a tired but kind smile. “Ah, Morales. Sí. Sit.”
Miles sank into the chair, already bracing himself.
“I’ve noticed the missed classes. And your last test?” The teacher winced. “Let’s just say... it wasn’t muy bueno.”
Miles rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I know. I’ve just been... tired. A lot going on.”
Rodriguez studied him for a moment, as if trying to read something between the lines. “Look, I get it. Life’s hard. But I also know you’re one of the brightest students in this class. So I’m going to make you a deal.”
Miles perked up. “A deal?”
“You do tutoring. Help a few students who are falling behind—practice speaking, vocabulary drills, help them prep for the next oral exam. In exchange, I’ll wipe the last test score. You ace the next two, and we’ll call it even. Sound fair?”
Miles blinked. “Seriously?”
Rodriguez nodded. “Seriously. But I want real effort, Morales. And maybe some rest too.”
Miles grinned, grateful. “Deal.”
As he walked out of class, schedule for tutoring already in hand, he texted Gwen.
Miles: Got a lifeline in Spanish. I owe my teacher big time.
Gwen: You owe me more. I quizzed you all night on verbs last week.
Miles: That too. You’re basically my MVP.
Gwen: Basically?
Miles: Definitely. Want to hear about it at lunch?
Gwen: Always.
Miles sat across from a girl named Valentina in the small study lounge tucked behind the school’s library. She twirled a pen between her fingers and gave him a half-smile as she leaned forward, Spanish workbook open between them.
“So,” she said, “is this how you usually spend your afternoons? Being a hero to struggling students?”
Miles chuckled nervously. “Just trying to keep my grades up. And maybe help others do the same.”
Valentina laughed softly, brushing a braid behind her ear. “Well, you’re a good tutor. And way cuter than Señor Rodriguez.”
He blinked. “Uh, thanks?”
As they reviewed verb conjugations, Miles kept glancing at the clock. He wasn’t uncomfortable exactly—but something about Valentina’s lingering looks and playful comments was making it hard to focus.
That’s when Gwen passed by the glass-paneled room, a stack of French textbooks tucked under one arm. She paused. Her gaze flicked between them, and something unreadable crossed her face.
She knocked lightly and poked her head in. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt. Miles, are you free after this?”
Valentina glanced between them. “We were just finishing up.”
“I was gonna ask if I could sit in?” Gwen added casually, walking into the room. “I take French, but I’ve been thinking about picking up Spanish. Just in case, y’know, I get stranded in Madrid or something.”
Miles blinked at her, surprised but smiling. “Yeah, sure. Pull up a chair.”
Gwen settled next to him, dropping her books on the table with a grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes. She looked calm, even sweet, but she nudged Miles’s foot under the table—not hard, just enough to say I saw that.
Valentina raised an eyebrow. “Cool. The more the merrier.”
“Totally,” Gwen replied, flipping open a fresh page in her notebook. “So, what are we conjugating?”
Miles couldn’t help but feel a little flustered now—between Valentina’s not-so-subtle compliments and Gwen’s sudden arrival, his brain was working overtime. But when Gwen leaned in slightly and whispered, “You’re mine today, Spanish hero,” he nearly dropped his pen.
Miles’s phone buzzed against the table just as Gwen scribbled a question in her notes. He glanced at the screen and saw Ganke’s name lighting up with a text:
[Ganke: BRO. Big villain spotted by the docks. News says it’s tearing up delivery trucks. Get your butt over here. Now.]
His heart skipped. “Hey, uh…” Miles stood up quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Sorry, I gotta go. Something came up.”
Valentina tilted her head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, already backing away, “just… family thing.”
Gwen stood with him, grabbing his wrist gently before he could rush off. “You sure?”
His eyes met hers—genuine, grateful, a little tired. “Yeah. But can you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
He turned to Valentina. “Hey, Gwen’ll sit with you for the rest, alright? She’s really good at languages, even if she insists French is better.”
Gwen rolled her eyes but smiled. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t accidentally conjugate anything to say ‘I eat feet’ or whatever.”
Valentina laughed. “I like her.”
Before slipping out, Miles leaned closer to Gwen and said low enough for only her to hear: “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”
Her cheeks flushed instantly. “Babe?”
He winked. “What? We’re a great fake couple.”
Then he was gone, dashing down the hallway—already tugging at his hoodie, already calculating the fastest way to the docks.
Gwen stared at the empty space he’d just left behind, heart pounding a little too fast for someone not in a relationship.
Valentina raised an eyebrow. “So… are you two?”
Gwen blinked, then smiled as she sat back down. “No. But… maybe someday.”