I never liked school.
Voices blurred. Lockers slammed. Shoes squeaked. Laughter stabs the air, sharp, fast then gone. It all washed past me like a wave I had far given up on swimming through.
I sit far in the back, close to the window. My seat's always cold. Nobody ever looks this way.
That was until today.
She walked in.
Not really as if she owned the room, not quite like that. More as if she belongs here. Everyone turns. A few people shout out her name.
"Myla!"
Her laugh rings out before she even gets to her desk, and just like that, she's like a magnet.
People orbit her.
She's everything I will never be.
She tosses her bag and loudly sits down with a thud, still talking to her friends, still shining. I watch as the sunlight catches her hair, and bounces off her hands as she swings them around talking. She wears noise like armor. It works great. No one notices a thing.
Except I do.
There's a small flicker.
It's only for a second—right before she laughs—her face, it drops. Her smile slips. Just a fraction of a second. Like a skipped frame in a perfect movie.
Then it's back, like nothing happened.
Most people would never notice.
But I did.
But I don't say anything. I never do.
I once typed a message to her. Just a simple "Hey." Simple. Safe. I had stared at it for what felt like an hour, then I erased it before I ever hit send. I don't know what I was afraid of, that she'd ignore me? That she'd answer?
That she will start to see me?
Ye... No thanks.
People like her, they just don't talk to people like me. We're just... background noise to each other.
Still, I watch her.
Not because I'm obsessed. Not because I love her. It's something completely different. Something quiet.
Maybe it's because she looks like me under her mask, like she just wants to scream.
No one noticed the quiet ones until they're gone. I guess I liked it that way. At least until I saw her.