The cafeteria was always too loud at lunch, and when I mean loud, it's like every conversation fought for its own spotlight. Trays clattered, laughter echoed from one end of the hall to the other, and the smell of fries mixed with too many voices left my head buzzing.
I dropped my tray across from Lara and Jade, who were already halfway through a debate about whether a new math teacher was secretly married to the chemistry teacher.
"I'm telling you," Lara said, stabbing her fork in Jade's direction, "they look at each other too long. That's not professional. That's… romance."
Jade rolled her eyes. "Or maybe they're just talking, Lara. Not everyone is starring in a soap opera."
"You'd know," Lara shot back. "You've got the emotional range of a math problem."
Jade arched a brow. "Better than the chaos of a bad sitcom."
I snorted into my juice box, and both of them turned their attention on me like predators who had just spotted easier prey.
"You're awfully quiet," Lara said, narrowing her eyes. "Which means… you're hiding something."
"I'm just listening to you guys argue over people that barely know you, I'm not hiding anything." I said quickly, stabbing a fry for distraction.
"You are," Jade replied calmly. "You always play with your food when you don't want to talk."
I froze, fry halfway to my mouth. "I do not."
"Yes, you do," they both chorused, and I groaned, placing my fingers on my forehead.
It would have been fine—just harmless friend teasing—except that I caught sight of him across the cafeteria. Ethan.
He wasn't even doing anything special. Just leaning against the wall near the vending machine, one hand tucked in his pocket, eyes scanning the room like he could read everyone's thoughts without trying. And maybe he could, because his gaze flicked to me—sharp and knowing.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
Oh heavens, why was he even here?
Lara followed my line of sight, and her grin spread slow and wicked. "Oh. Ohhh. That's what this is about."
Jade sighed, already bracing herself. "Don't start."
"I'm not starting," Lara said, even though she absolutely was. "I'm just observing. Our dear Tasha here is staring at Ethan Carter like it's the first time she's ever seen an hot guy..."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. "I am not—"
But Lara had already leaned in close, lowering her voice like we were in some spy movie. "Okay, but look at him. He's broody and mysterious. He looks like the type of guy who reads books no one's ever heard of and secretly writes poetry in the margins..."
"...Or maybe he's just standing there." Jade said giving her a flat look.
"Ugh jade, you're spoiling the fun. He's standing there magnetically" Lara corrected, then turned her grin on me again. "I bet he knows your name already."
I choked on my fry. "What—why would he—no!"
Lara beamed, clearly delighted at my panic. Jade shook her head, though her lips twitched like she was hiding a smile.
"Leave her alone," Jade said. "She's obviously flustered."
"Exactly," Lara replied. "And that means something."
I buried my face in my tray, wishing I could disappear.
By the time lunch ended, I felt like I'd been grilled alive. Lara kept making exaggerated sighs about "star-crossed destiny," and Jade gave me that patient, knowing look that somehow felt worse than the teasing.
I escaped to the library, hoping the quiet would calm my racing thoughts.
The library was always my safe place—rows of books, the faint smell of paper, the hush that made the world feel smaller and more manageable. I tucked myself into a corner table, spread out my notes, and tried to focus on history.
And for a second , I thought I was beginning to understand what was in my notes until a shadow fell across the table, when I looked up, it was him. Ethan.
Of course.
He set a book down across from me without asking, slid into the chair like he'd always belonged there, and started flipping through pages. No greeting, no acknowledgment—just there.
This guy is rude, I thought. Couldn't he ask before sharing a seat on my table? Ugh.
"Um… hi?" I greeted my pulse quickening.
He glanced up briefly, eyes catching mine. There was that unreadable expression again, like he knew something I didn't. "Hi."
One word. Just one. But the way he said it—calm, low, like it meant more than it should—sent shivers down my spine.
I forced my attention back to my notes, scribbling nonsense just so I wouldn't have to watch him. But of course, my eyes kept drifting. The way his hair fell slightly into his face, the way his fingers tapped absently against the book cover, the way he seemed both completely present and a million miles away.
Finally, I blurted, "Do you always sit at other people's tables?"
He looked up again, tilting his head slightly. "Do you always trip into people in hallways?"
My cheeks burned. "That was an accident."
"Mm." His lips twitched, almost like a smile, but not quite. "Accidents tell you a lot about people."
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged, gaze dropping back to his book. "Just that some accidents aren't really accidents."
I stared at him, completely thrown. Was he messing with me? Was he… flirting? Or was this just how his brain worked—vague and cryptic, like he enjoyed leaving me guessing?
I didn't know. And that was the problem.
The silence stretched, not uncomfortable exactly, but heavy with something unspoken. Every time I looked up, he was already looking at me, like he'd been waiting. And every time, I looked away first.
After what felt like hours, I packed up my books, muttering something about needing to get home. He didn't stop me. He just watched, calm and unreadable, as if he knew I'd come back anyway.
At home, Mom was on the phone, her voice warm as she laughed with someone I couldn't place. Leo was sprawled on the couch again, headphones glued to his head. The normalcy of it all felt strange after the library, like I'd stepped out of one world and into another.
I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.
I didn't understand him. I didn't understand why every word, every glance, felt like it carried weight. Like he knew something about me even I didn't.
And worse—I didn't understand why I wanted to know more. This is draining.