"I didn't walk toward her to impress anyone. I walked toward her because something in her eyes looked like a storm pretending it was rain."
Calvin's voice sliced through the air like a blade dipped in memory.
"Wendy!"
Every muscle in my body reacted before my brain could catch up. My hand tightened around the strap of my bag. My shoulders stiffened. My heartbeat lost its rhythm, skipping like it was afraid of what came next.
There are names that sound normal to everyone else.
And then there are names that trigger pain like alarms.
Calvin was mine.
He walked toward me with that same familiar swagger — the careless confidence, the crooked smile that once made my knees weak and later taught my heart how to ache. Some boys don't come back to apologize. They come back to remind you they still think they own a piece of you.
"Long time," Calvin said, stopping far too close. I caught the scent of his cologne — the one he started wearing after we broke up. Expensive. Loud. Unforgettable. "You didn't miss me?"
"I didn't even remember you," I replied.
The words came out sharp. Controlled. Cold enough to protect me.
But my fingers trembled where he couldn't see them.
His smile twitched. "You still have mouth."
Before I could respond, someone stepped beside me.
Wayne.
He didn't rush. He didn't puff his chest or raise his voice. He just stood there — calm, steady, unbothered — like someone who didn't need permission to take up space. His presence alone felt like a wall.
Calvin noticed him immediately. His eyes scanned Wayne from head to toe, measuring, comparing. Then he smirked.
"New friend?" he asked.
I opened my mouth to shut down whatever nonsense he was about to start, but Wayne spoke first. His voice was low, controlled, and dangerously gentle.
"She doesn't look like she needs your attention."
Calvin raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"
Wayne met his gaze without blinking. "Someone who minds his business," he said calmly. "And right now, she's my business."
Taylor gasped so loudly it echoed. "Oh my God," she whispered, clutching my arm. "I love this school already."
Calvin laughed, but there was something sharp underneath it. "Relax. I was just greeting my girl."
"I'm not your girl," I said.
Quiet. Firm. Final.
For a second, everything went silent. Not the hallway — my heart. Saying those words felt like snapping a chain. A small one. But still a chain.
Calvin's jaw tightened. "We'll talk later."
"No," I said. "We won't."
He stared at me like he wanted to argue, like he wanted to remind me of old versions of myself that no longer existed. Then he scoffed, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked away.
The world exhaled.
Noise returned. Lockers slammed. Girls whispered. Boys pretended not to stare. Taylor giggled like she needed popcorn and a front-row seat.
I let out a slow breath, like I'd been underwater longer than I realized.
Wayne turned to me. "You good?"
I nodded, even though my chest felt tight and my throat felt like it was holding secrets hostage.
"You don't have to explain anything," he said.
I looked at him, confused. "Why do you care?"
He shrugged one shoulder — not careless, just honest. "Sometimes you just notice people."
Before I could reply, the bell rang — loud, sharp, impatient. First period.
Taylor grabbed my hand and dragged me toward class. "Bestie, God has started this semester with premium entertainment."
"It's not entertainment," I muttered. "It's stress."
"Stress that looks like fine boys and plot twists," she corrected. "Don't dull."
I rolled my eyes and slid into my seat, pretending my heart wasn't still racing.
But before I settled, I glanced back toward the door.
Wayne was still there.
Watching me.
Not in a creepy way. Not in a possessive way. In a way that felt like recognition — like he saw parts of me I worked hard to hide from the world.
Just before he turned to leave, he spoke quietly. Almost like he was talking to himself. Almost like he wanted me to hear.
"You deserve better than people who break you."
My throat tightened.
Because I didn't know whether I wanted to run from him…
Or toward him.
One thing was clear though.
Boys were not part of my plan.
But fate doesn't care about plans.
Fate cares about timing.
And mine had just gotten complicatedHsg