She shook her head slightly, telling herself not to dwell. It's nothing. Just normal behavior. Just Roger being Roger.
But then, a snippet of conversation from across the room caught her attention. A few boys from her class were leaning toward each other, voices low but carrying clearly enough to hear.
"You know those guys aren't serious," one of them said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Yeah… I heard there's something between them and some art girls," the other added, smirking.
Blue froze for a moment, a cold, jarring shock running through her. Her mind raced. Art girls? Something? What does that mean?
Her heart pounded—not in fear, not in anger, but in a confusing swirl of emotions she wasn't ready to untangle. Relief, curiosity, uncertainty, and a touch of jealousy tangled together, making her feel off-balance.
She looked at Roger, who was still smiling and laughing across the circle, seemingly unaware of the turmoil he had sparked in her mind. Blue closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, inhaled slowly, and reminded herself: she had promised herself caution. Trust slowly. Observe. Don't assume.
Still, the words lingered, echoing like a whisper she couldn't easily ignore. And for the first time that day, Blue felt the delicate tension between curiosity and restraint—the very feeling she had been practicing to master during the holidays.
She decided to stay quiet, to let the moment pass, though the confusion inside her refused to fade completely.
Blue closed her notebook and leaned back in her chair, her fingers lightly tapping against the desk. Around her, the classroom buzzed with voices and laughter, the echoes of the afternoon chatter fading as students packed up. She watched Roger across the room, laughing easily with Diana, seemingly carefree, unbothered.
Externally, Blue's face remained neutral. A faint smile curved her lips, her posture casual. She waved lightly when he caught her glance, a gesture so small it could have meant nothing. To anyone else, she looked calm, unruffled, even amused.
Internally, though… her mind was a storm.
Why does it feel like my chest is tight? she thought, biting the inside of her cheek. He's just talking to a friend. That's all it is. I know it is. Stop reading into it.
Her stomach twisted slightly as she watched him move, confident and easy with everyone, while she remained a careful observer. Why am I so aware of him? Why does it matter that his brother is in the room, laughing with the guys?
She reminded herself: boundaries. Trust slowly. Observe. This is exactly why I keep things secret. I can't let anyone—including me—lose perspective.
Her hands rested on her desk, calm and collected outwardly. She laughed at a joke Mavin had made, and Elise leaned over to nudge her shoulder. "You're too quiet," Elise whispered, though her tone was teasing.
Blue shrugged. "I'm just… thinking."
Thinking about what? she chastised herself silently. Nothing. It's nothing.
That night, the small vibration of her phone pulled her from the quiet hum of her room. A message from Roger appeared:
"Hey. You okay?"
Blue's fingers hovered over the screen. Her instinct was to reply at length, to explain herself, to share the swirl of confusion and careful observation that had kept her tense all day. But she stopped.
She typed a short response:
"Yeah. I'm fine. You?"
It was the truth—but it was also careful. Measured. Contained.
He doesn't need to know what I'm feeling, she reminded herself. Not yet. Not until I decide it's safe. Until I'm ready.
Safe… The word echoed quietly in her mind. She had spent the holidays learning to protect herself, to guard her heart while letting it grow slowly, cautiously. Trust had to be earned, patience had to be practiced, and secrecy could be its own form of strength.
Roger's reply came quickly, as always:
"I'm good. Missed you today."
Blue stared at the message, a faint warmth spreading in her chest. She didn't respond immediately. She didn't need to. For once, she wanted to savor the feeling quietly, letting it exist without words, without action, without exposing herself too soon.
She placed the phone on her bedside table and leaned back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling. Externally, her breathing was slow, calm, even. Internally, her thoughts spun gently around the edges of excitement, caution, curiosity, and control.
I can feel this, she thought. I can feel it without losing myself.
And that, more than anything, gave her a quiet sense of power, a reassurance that she could navigate the world—and Roger—on her terms.
She closed her eyes and let the night fold around her, letting both the calm and the storm coexist.
****************
Lunch break arrived like a release. The bell rang and the classroom emptied quickly, students spilling into the corridors in noisy clusters. Blue walked with Elise and Asha toward their usual spot, laughing as Asha complained about how unfair the math quiz had been.
"I swear the teacher enjoys suffering," Asha said, dropping her bag on the bench.
Elise snorted. "You say that every time."
Blue smiled, sitting down and opening her lunch. Outwardly, she looked relaxed—comfortable, even. Inside, though, she was already aware of movement nearby.
Roger and Fred passed by, trays in hand.
"Hey," Roger said casually.
"Hi," Blue replied, just as casually, her tone light and neutral.
Elise and Asha echoed their greetings, neither suspecting anything. Fred raised an eyebrow slightly, a knowing look flickering across his face for half a second before he grinned.
"Mind if we sit?" Fred asked.
Asha shrugged. "It's a free country."
They sat down, the energy shifting in a way that was easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. Roger sat across from Blue, leaning back, relaxed. Fred sat beside him, already looking amused.
"So," Fred said, glancing between Blue and Roger, "anyone else feel like today is unusually hot? Or is it just me?"
Blue raised her eyes briefly. "It's always hot."
Roger smiled faintly. "You complain a lot."
"Someone has to," Fred replied. "Otherwise life would be boring."
Blue hid a small smile behind her water bottle. She could feel Roger's gaze flick toward her now and then—brief, careful glances that never lasted long enough to be obvious.
Elise leaned closer to Blue. "You're quiet again."
"I'm enjoying the peace," Blue said lightly.
Roger laughed. "Peace? During lunch break? Impossible."
Fred tilted his head. "Blue seems like the kind of person who enjoys silence."
Blue met his eyes. "Only when it's meaningful."
Fred's smile widened, a little too knowing. "Interesting."
Roger shot his brother a look. "You read too much into things."
"Do I?" Fred replied innocently.
Asha laughed. "You two are funny. Twins always argue like that?"
"Only when one of us enjoys causing trouble," Roger said.
Fred pointed at himself. "Guilty."
Blue laughed softly, the sound slipping out before she could stop it. Roger noticed—his expression softened, just for a moment.
A group of girls from the art section passed nearby, glancing in their direction. One of them whispered something, giggling. Blue didn't react. She kept her posture relaxed, her focus on her food, on her friends, on the moment.
Elise leaned back. "People stare too much."
Roger shrugged.
"Must be exhausting," Blue said calmly.
Roger met her eyes, just briefly. "It is."
Fred smirked. "Especially when people think they know everything."
Blue raised an eyebrow. "People always think they do."
There was a beat of silence—comfortable on the surface, charged underneath.
Asha broke it with a laugh. "Okay, serious question. If you had to choose—music or movies?"
"Music," Roger said instantly.
"Movies," Fred countered.
Blue smiled. "Music. It stays with you longer."
Roger glanced at her, surprised. "Exactly."
Fred groaned. "Great. Now I'm outnumbered."
The bell rang again, signaling the end of lunch. Everyone stood, gathering their things.
"See you," Elise said, stretching.
Roger nodded. "Yeah. See you."
Blue walked away with her friends, never looking back—but she could feel it. The unspoken understanding. The careful distance. The playful tension that only existed because of what they weren't saying.
Behind her, Fred leaned toward Roger and murmured, "You're not as subtle as you think."
Roger sighed. "You talk too much."
Fred laughed. "That's my job."
Blue sat in class with Asha and Elise, their chemistry books spread open across the desk. Pages were filled with formulas, diagrams, and highlighted notes as they prepared for the tests creeping closer with each day.