By Monday, I told myself I was done thinking about him.
That whatever strange pull I'd felt on Friday had faded with the weekend. People looked at each other all the time. Sometimes longer than necessary. It didn't mean anything. It didn't have to mean anything.
Still, I stood in front of the mirror longer than usual that morning.
I adjusted my collar. Smoothed my hair. Wiped at my lip gloss and reapplied it again, even though no one was going to notice the difference. My reflection stared back at me, quiet and uncertain, like it was waiting for permission to exist.
"You're imagining things," I murmured.
The walk to school felt heavier, my steps slower. I kept my eyes forward, my thoughts tightly contained, determined not to let them drift where they wanted to go.
When I reached the school gates, the familiar noise wrapped around me. Shouting. Laughing. Lockers slamming. Life moving too fast for me to keep up with.
Comforting, in its own way.
I made it through my first class without incident. No strange glances. No unsettling awareness. Relief loosened something in my chest.
Maybe Friday really had been nothing.
It was at my locker that the feeling returned.
Not sudden. Not sharp.
Just… there.
Like someone standing too close behind me.
I froze with my hand on the locker door.
For a second, I didn't turn. I just stood there, heart beginning to race, silently begging myself not to be dramatic.
Then I heard his voice.
"Hey."
Soft. Calm. Close.
Too close.
I turned slowly.
He stood a few steps away this time, not crowding me, not blocking my path. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, like he wasn't aware of the effect his presence had on my nerves.
Elias.
"Oh," I said. It was all my brain could manage.
His gaze flicked over my face briefly, then settled somewhere neutral, like he was deliberately trying not to stare. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's fine," I said quickly. "I just...wasn't expecting anyone."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "You rarely do."
The comment lingered between us, heavier than it should have been. I glanced down, fingers tightening around the strap of my bag.
"Are you… heading to class?" I asked, mostly because the silence felt unbearable.
"Yeah," he said. "Same direction."
We walked side by side for a few steps, not quite close enough to touch. I could feel his presence anyway, steady and unhurried, like he wasn't rushing to get anywhere.
I was.
My heart beat faster with every second.
"You don't talk much," he said after a moment.
I flinched slightly. "I don't really have anything to say."
"That's not true," he replied. "You just don't waste words."
I glanced at him, unsure whether that was an observation or a judgment.
We stopped outside my classroom. I exhaled softly, relieved.
"This is me," I said.
"I know."
The words sent a small ripple of unease through me.
"You do?" I asked before I could stop myself.
He nodded toward the door. "I've seen you come here before."
Of course he had. The realization shouldn't have unsettled me, but it did.
"Well," I said awkwardly, shifting my weight, "I should go."
He stepped aside immediately, giving me space. "See you around, Damie."
I paused.
He hadn't asked my name.
I didn't ask how he knew it.
I walked into class with my heart pounding and my thoughts unraveling.
The rest of the morning passed slowly. I caught myself glancing at the door more than once, half-expecting him to appear there too. He never did.
At lunch, I sat alone as usual, poking at my food without much appetite. Cassie waved at me from across the room, already mid-conversation with someone else.
I waved back and looked away.
Halfway through my meal, I felt it again.
That awareness.
This time, I didn't look immediately.
When I finally did, he was there-standing near the far wall, not watching me openly, not pretending not to notice me either. His gaze met mine briefly before drifting away, like he didn't want to make it obvious.
The restraint unsettled me more than the staring had.
After lunch, I escaped to the library during my free period, grateful for the quiet. The smell of old books and dust wrapped around me as I made my way to my usual seat near the window.
I'd barely settled in when footsteps echoed between the shelves.
I stiffened.
"You always come here," his voice said, not teasing. Just stating a fact.
I looked up.
He stood at the end of the aisle, a few feet away, not invading my space. There was no smirk this time. No intensity that felt overwhelming. Just curiosity.
"I like it here," I said.
He nodded. "It suits you."
I wasn't sure why that made my chest tighten.
"You don't have to keep running," he added quietly.
"I'm not running," I replied, though my voice wavered.
"Okay," he said simply. "Then I'll let you read."
He turned to leave.
Something in my chest twisted unexpectedly.
"Elias," I said before I could stop myself.
He paused and looked back at me.
"I..." My fingers tightened around the book. "I'm Damie."
His expression softened, just a little. "I know."
This time, the word didn't scare me.
It felt like the beginning of something I didn't yet have a name for.