Chapter 3:
The library smelled like old books and forgotten air conditioning. The fans whirred lazily overhead, and afternoon sunlight spilled across the long wooden tables in slanted lines.
Elian sat with his notebook open, but all he'd written in the last ten minutes was the title of the project: Symbolism in Modern Literature. Boring. Safe. Not the real problem.
The real problem was seated across from him — half-asleep, pen between his fingers, slouched like he had all the time in the world.
Noa.
He looked up suddenly, like he'd felt Elian staring. Their eyes met.
"You ever going to write something?" Elian asked.
Noa smirked. "I'm letting the inspiration hit me. It's slow today."
Elian snorted. "I can tell."
They worked in silence after that. Or tried to. Every time Noa leaned forward, the faint scent of cedar and some kind of spice reached Elian's nose. It was maddening, how still and chaotic he felt at the same time.
Then someone cleared their throat.
Malia.
She stood next to their table, arms crossed over her designer sweater vest, eyebrows raised. Behind her, Jace leaned against a shelf with that same smug expression carved into his face.
"Well, if it isn't the library lovers," Malia said sweetly. Too sweet.
"We're working," Elian said, eyes still on his notebook.
"Looked more like staring," Jace muttered, just loud enough to hear.
Noa stood slowly. Not in a violent way,more like a warning. Calm and dangerous.
"Got something to say?"
Jace held up his hands. "Relax. Just… wondering if Elian's your new hobby."
Noa didn't answer. He didn't need to. His eyes said enough.
Elian closed his notebook and stood too. "We're done here."
Malia tilted her head. "You sure? 'Cause you're making waves, new boy. Everyone's watching."
"Then they should get better hobbies," Elian replied, walking past her without looking back.
He didn't wait for Noa, but he could hear his footsteps behind him anyway.
Outside the school, Elian exhaled. The sky was heavy with gray clouds. A storm was coming. Fitting.
His phone buzzed.
Kai
> Heard your boyfriend has a fan club already.
You okay?
Elian
> Not my boyfriend.
And no, I'm not okay. People here are toxic.
Kai
> That bad?
Elian
> There's this guy, Jace. He's obsessed with Noah, I think. Or used to be.
Kai
> Ahh. Drama ex-boy. Love triangle?
Elian
> It's not a triangle. There's no "love" here.
Kai
> You keep telling yourself that.
>"I'm deadass Kai"
Elian shoved the phone in his pocket just as Noa caught up.
"You shouldn't let them get to you," Noa said, his voice quieter now.
"I'm not. Just annoyed."
Noa glanced at him. "Jace likes to poke. He doesn't stop until someone bleeds."
"Great," Elian muttered. "Sounds fun."
"But I'm not the one to be messed with either"
"So tell him" he said staring directly at Nia.
They walked side by side again. Still no plans, still no destination,just steps syncing like they were used to this already.
"You never talk about yourself," Nia said suddenly. "Why is that?"
Elian shrugged. "Same reason you don't. People like us? We survive by staying quiet."
"But we barely know each other too so yeah"
"You don't seem quiet to me."
Elian smiled, slow and . "Maybe."
Later that night…
Elian lay on his bed, the ceiling above him washed in shadows. Rain tapped softly at his window, and the pages of his sketchbook were still blank.
He stared at his phone, hovering over Kai's name… then shifted to his drafts.
A message unsent:
> There's something about him. Noah. Like he's hiding in plain sight. And I want to know why.
He didn't send it.
Instead, he opened a new note. And started drawing.
First the eyes. Narrow, tired, thoughtful.
Then the mouth. Crooked smile. The kind that made you think he was either in love or planning something dangerous.
He wasn't sure which version of Noah scared him more.