RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 63: FRIDA -

Alex looked between Laz and Frida, his expression shifting from shock to remorse.

It was as though he couldn’t believe what he had just done.

He stood up, his voice shaky. "Frida, I-I..."

Laz stepped forward, blocking his path with a firm glare. "No, you don’t get that chance," he said sharply, grabbing Frida’s hand and slinging her backpack over his shoulder.

The classroom erupted in hushed whispers.

"Did he just...?"

"Isn’t he the top student of our year?" one girl murmured from the back.

"I always knew he was a douche," another said.

"Guys like that are disgusting," a third added, her voice dripping with disdain.

As Laz and Frida left the classroom, the tension lingered in the air.

The lights in the hallway flickered above them, casting fleeting shadows on the walls. Frida’s gaze lingered on Laz’s back as he walked ahead, his figure steady and sure.

What if he hadn’t come?

The thought made her shiver.

How was he so on time?

How had he known she would be here?

She couldn’t unravel the answers, but one thing was clear, she was glad he came. So glad.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air brushed against her skin, soothing her frazzled nerves.

It was a quiet balm to the storm raging inside her. Laz had been her anchor in a moment when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

They walked in silence, Frida unable to process why Alex had acted so irrationally.

They weren’t close, not in a way that should justify his behavior.

Even his so-called feelings for her had always felt fleeting, given his constant attention to other girls. So why was he acting like this?

She shivered at the memory of his anger. For a moment, she’d thought he might actually hurt her.

Laz noticed and pulled her closer, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin in reassurance. The night was pitch black, the sky void of stars or moonlight.

Sliding into Laz’s car, Frida realized they were still holding hands as he started the engine. His touch felt nice, warm, comforting.

She leaned back against the headrest, letting out a deep sigh.

The whole ordeal was traumatizing. She couldn’t even begin to explain how she felt.

Was this how toxic relationships started? The stress, the constant walking on eggshells?

Her thoughts spiraled. What if she had given Alex a chance? Would he have hurt her?

Then, another troubling thought crept in, what if Laz was only showing her his best side? He had stalked her for years, after all. Could she really trust him?

"The wheels in your head are turning so loud, I can almost hear them," Laz said softly, his eyes fixed on the road, his grip steady on the wheel.

Frida glanced at him. "Aren’t you going to yell at me? Tell me you told me so?" she murmured, half expecting the playful jabs he used to throw at her when they were younger.

He was quiet for a moment before answering. "Frida, I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Alex is your study partner. I have no right to stop you from studying with him just because I feel insecure. That’s your decision to make, it’s your life, not mine."

His words took her by surprise. She turned her head to look at him, studying his face.

He really was different. The way he spoke, the way he respected her independence, it was... amazing.

Her eyes dropped to his feet, and she blinked. "You’re wearing indoor slippers?"

He shrugged, taking a right turn. "You usually finish your study sessions with Alex by seven. You were fifteen minutes late, so I figured something was up."

Her jaw dropped slightly, and he continued without pause. "You’re never home late. You stretch for at least five minutes every day before taking a shower and heading straight to bed. Then you wake up at midnight to study more."

Frida stared at him in disbelief. "How do you know all that?"

"It’s not weird," he replied smoothly, as if reading her mind. "Okay, maybe it is, but I can’t help it. I like watching you... just being you."

Her heart fluttered unexpectedly. "So you’ve known about Alex all this time?"

He nodded as they pulled up to her dorm. Red and blue lights from police cars flashed in the distance, painting the scene with an ominous glow.

"Yep," he said, scanning the area like a detective.

"So why did you pretend not to know him?"

Unbuckling his seatbelt in a surprisingly casual yet attractive way, Laz said, "Because he had the audacity to act territorial about what’s mine, so I had to give him a little shade."

Frida scoffed, laughing despite herself. "What’s yours? Laz, we’re not dating."

"Can you spell ’Frida’ without ’I’?" he asked, his tone teasing yet oddly serious.

Her brow furrowed at the puzzling question, but she answered anyway. "I don’t think so."

"Exactly. There’s no me without you, that’s why you’re mine," he said, his voice low but confident.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Laz froze, his eyes wide. She smiled. "What? You can’t be the only one stealing kisses."

He groaned, stepping out of the car to put some distance between them. "Being friends with you is hard, girl. My car seat is dying to have you on my lap," he muttered.

Frida laughed and got out as well. But her laughter faded as she noticed the chaos at the dorm ahead, yellow police tape on a specific door and a crowd of students gathered around in horror.

An ambulance wheeled a stretcher past her, the victim’s face barely visible under the oxygen mask.

Frida’s breath caught in her throat. The face was familiar, and her stomach churned as she realized where she’d seen it: thirty minutes ago in the classroom.

The victim’s body was covered in stab wounds, and as they passed, her eyes caught something chilling. A red note stuck to the bottom of the woman’s shoe.

It read: "I’m coming for you."