His Code Name: ULAP (Code Name Series #1)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

By Monday morning, the whole school already knew.

It started as a few whispers in the hallway—soft, curious, like gossip trying to find its legs. By lunch, it had turned into full-blown chaos.

“Did you see the photo?!”
“Jacob and Alyza! They look so cute together!”
“Bro, that’s not just a test shot, that’s CONFIRMATION.”
“Mr. President and Ms. Vice President? Match made in heaven.”

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

Everywhere I turned, people were either smiling knowingly or grinning like maniacs. Some even winked. I didn’t know whether to hide or scream.

“Garcia!” someone called out—Lev, holding up his phone with that mischievous grin. “So, when’s the wedding?”

“Lev, I swear I will throw this paintbrush at you,” I muttered, glaring at him.

“Do it,” he teased. “Maybe Jacob will defend your honor.”

“Shut up!”

Too late. The entire class burst into laughter.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse—the projector flickered on.

Vriella and Gian were doing the presentation for the stage design updates. The first slide was supposed to be about lighting plans. Supposed to be.

But no.
Guess what was on the screen?

THE PHOTO.

The same one from the photo booth.
The one where Jacob looked at me like I was the only person in the room.
The one where I looked ridiculously flustered.

“OH MY GOD—TURN IT OFF!” I shrieked, running toward the projector as everyone screamed in laughter.

“Oops,” Jhessy said, trying—and failing—to hide her smile. “Wrong file?”

“WRONG FILE MY FOOT!”

Jacob just stood there, calm as ever, watching the chaos unfold. And then—he laughed. Like, genuinely laughed. The deep kind that made everyone stop for a second just to look.

“Are you enjoying this?!” I demanded, face on fire.

He tilted his head slightly, still smiling. “A little.”

I smacked his arm. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Jacob—!”

He leaned closer, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Relax, Garcia. Let them talk.”

“But—”

He cut me off with a look that made my brain short-circuit. “Let them talk. You’re mine anyway.”

The words hit me like a pulse of electricity. My mouth fell open, but before I could say anything—

Zevi yelled from across the room, “YUP! IT’S OFFICIAL! MR. PRESIDENT CLAIMS MS. VICE PRESIDENT!”

The entire auditorium erupted.

Laughter, cheers, teasing—pure chaos.

I buried my face in my hands. “I hate you all.”

Jacob just laughed again, the sound melting into the noisy warmth around us. And as much as I wanted to act mad, a smile still tugged at my lips.

Because deep down, beneath the chaos, the teasing, and the embarrassment…

It felt right.
It felt real.
It felt like maybe, just maybe—
this wildfire wasn’t something I wanted to put out.

My anxiety struck all at once. The laughter, the flashing phones, the whispers that felt like daggers—it all blurred together until the room felt smaller, tighter, louder.

My hands trembled as I clutched my chest, trying to steady my breathing, but it only came out in shallow bursts. My heart pounded too hard, too fast.

I didn’t want this kind of attention.
Not the stares. Not the teasing. Not the pressure.

Before Jacob could even reach for me again, I ran.

I shoved past a few students, barely hearing their surprised gasps as I bolted out of the auditorium. The cool air in the hallway hit me like a wave, but it didn’t help. My chest still felt heavy—suffocating.

I ran until I reached the back of the school, near the empty garden where the old benches were. My legs gave out, and I sank down, hugging my knees.

I didn’t even realize I was crying until the tears blurred my vision. My breaths came out uneven and shaky.

“I… I can’t…” I gasped out softly. “It’s hard to breathe…”

Then, footsteps. Slow. Careful. Familiar.

Jacob.

He stopped a few feet away, watching me quietly for a second before approaching. He crouched in front of me, his eyes filled with concern instead of his usual teasing spark.

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “It’s okay… you’re okay.”

I shook my head, my voice trembling. “No, I’m not. I-I need a psychologist…”

Jacob gave a small, tender chuckle—not mocking, just trying to ease the tension. “I can be anything you want me to be, Garcia,” he said, placing a hand over his chest. “Even a psychologist.”

I laughed through my tears—a broken, messy sound that somehow made the tightness in my chest ease just a little.

He smiled faintly. “There you go. That’s the Garcia I know—strong, sarcastic, and way too stubborn to let anxiety win.”

I sniffled, wiping my tears with the back of my sleeve. “You’re really bad at comforting people, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “But I’m not leaving until you can breathe properly again.”

He reached out and held my hand, gently guiding me to inhale and exhale with him—slow, steady breaths until the trembling stopped.

“You don’t have to face them alone, okay?” he murmured. “Let them talk. I’ll handle the noise. You just… breathe.”

His voice was calm, grounding—like the steady rhythm of the ocean he always reminded me of.

I looked at him, my heart aching and soft all at once. “You’re… impossible, you know that?”

Jacob smiled, brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “Only for you, Garcia.”

And for a moment—even with my eyes red and my chest still aching—I couldn’t help but smile.

Because somehow, between the chaos and the calm, Jacob Villanueva became my safe place.