Monday mornings always felt like the world was holding its breath.
The hallways were quieter than usual, everyone still shaking off the weekend.
Jade walked in early, backpack heavier with her guitar picks and a notebook full of half-formed lyrics she hadn't shown anyone.
She didn't plan to show them today either.
Not really.
The library door was already unlocked when she arrived at lunch.
She slipped inside, the familiar hush wrapping around her like a blanket.
Mrs. Patel nodded from behind the counter without looking up.
Jade headed straight to the back table—the one tucked behind the tall shelves, near the window that never quite closed properly.
Rose was already there.
She sat with her legs crossed under the table, The Bell Jar open again, a pencil tucked behind her ear.
A small paper bag sat beside her book—lunch, probably.
When Jade approached, Rose glanced up.
No surprise this time.
Just a soft, almost relieved look.
"Hey," Rose said quietly.
"Hey." Jade set her bag down. "Mind if I…?"
Rose gestured to the empty chair.
"Already saved it."
Jade's stomach did a small, warm flip.
She sat.
Unzipped her bag.
Pulled out her sandwich and notebook.
They didn't speak right away.
Just the soft rustle of pages, the occasional turn, the faint tap of Rose's pencil against her lip when she was thinking.
Jade tried to read.
The words blurred.
Her eyes kept drifting—to Rose's fingers on the page, to the way sunlight caught the edge of her glasses, to the tiny crease between her brows when something in the book made her pause.
After a few minutes, Rose closed her book with a quiet snap.
She looked at Jade.
"You were humming again. Last time we were here."
Jade froze mid-bite.
Heat crept up her neck.
"I was?"
"Yeah." Rose tilted her head. "It sounded nice. Like… something unfinished."
Jade swallowed.
"It's just messing around. Nothing real yet."
Rose's gaze dropped to Jade's open notebook.
The page was visible—messy handwriting, crossed-out lines, a few chords scribbled in the margin.
Rose didn't reach for it.
Just waited.
Jade hesitated.
Then slid the notebook an inch closer.
"You can look. If you want."
Rose leaned forward.
'Read silently.'
Her eyes moved slowly over the words.
"Rain on quiet windows
your shadow in the glass
I don't know how to ask
so I just stay"
Rose looked up.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"It's pretty. Sad, but pretty."
Jade's chest tightened.
No one had ever called her lyrics that before.
Not even her old best friend, who used to tease her about being "too emo."
"Thanks," Jade mumbled.
She closed the notebook.
But the warmth stayed.
They ate in companionable silence after that.
Rose pulled an apple from her bag, offered half without asking.
Jade took it.
Their fingers brushed—just for a second.
Neither pulled away too fast.
The bell rang too soon.
They packed up together, movements slow, like neither wanted the moment to end.
As they walked toward the door, Rose spoke.
"Same time tomorrow?"
Jade nodded.
"Yeah. Same time."
Rose smiled—small, but it reached her eyes this time.
"See you then."
They stepped into the hallway.
Noise crashed back—lockers slamming, voices overlapping.
But Jade felt oddly insulated from it.
Like the quiet from the library had followed her out.
All afternoon, she replayed it:
Rose reading her words.
Rose saying they were pretty.
Rose saving her a seat without being asked.
By the time the final bell rang, Jade was already at the gates, waiting.
Rose appeared a minute later, backpack slung over one shoulder.
They fell into step without discussion.
The walk to the exit was short.
But neither hurried.
At the gates, Rose paused.
"Thanks for today. It was… nice."
Jade shrugged, trying to play it cool.
"Anytime."
Rose lingered a second longer.
Then she turned, gave a small wave.
"Tomorrow."
Jade watched her go—dark hair catching the late-afternoon light, steps light and unhurried.
Something soft settled in Jade's chest.
Not loud.
Not named.
Just… there.
She pulled out her notebook on the walk home.
Added one more line beneath the others.
'You make the quiet feel like home.'
She stared at it for a long moment.
Then closed the book.
Still not sure what any of it meant.
But she knew she wanted to find out.