I made sure no one saw me all day. It wasn't even that hard—people were too busy talking about results, movies, and whatever else felt important to them at the moment. Nobody noticed who was missing unless it affected them directly, and today, I needed that. I needed to move without questions, without interruptions, with anyone asking me why I kept disappearing with Brandon or why I was whispering to Angie like we were planning something illegal. Maybe we were. A surprise like this in Königsberg Catholic High School? That alone was suspicious enough. But it was worth it. She deserved it. I kept replaying her face in my head from the last time I saw her smile properly, and it was enough to keep me focused. Mary didn't ask for much, didn't complain, didn't demand attention the way some girls did. She stayed quiet, simple, and somehow that made it worse when she looked disappointed. I had noticed it that morning—the way she tried to act as if it didn't matter, like today was just another day. That didn't sit right with me. So yeah… I made sure today wouldn't end like that. By the time evening came, everything was ready. The canteen was set, the lights were off, everyone was in position, and Angie acted like the general of the entire operation. All I had to do was get Mary there. That part was simple. I found her alone, just like I expected, standing like she didn't belong anywhere that day. When I called her name, the way she turned… yeah, that was enough to tell me I that made the right decision. I kept it simple. Asked her to walk with me. Nothing special. Nothing suspicious. Just enough to get her moving. She didn't question it, just took my hand like she trusted me to know what I was doing. That… I liked. We trudged, and I talked about anything that came to mind just to keep her relaxed, but my mind wasn't fully there. I focused on timing, on whether everyone was ready, on whether the lights would actually come on when they were supposed to. Somewhere in between all that, my mind slipped. Not to Mary. To her. Anna. I hadn't seen her all day either, and that wasn't normal. She wasn't loud, not like Elliot, but she was there. You noticed her without trying—the way she moved, the way she looked at things like she was always somewhere else in her head. And today? Nothing. I told myself it didn't matter. It wasn't about her. Today was about Mary. So I focused. When we reached the canteen and she asked if it was closed, I didn't answer. I just opened the door and stepped in with her. Darkness. Silence. Perfect. I moved behind her, my hand resting lightly on her waist, feeling her tense slightly before relaxing again. Then—boom. Lights. Voices. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" The whole room exploded, and for a second, even I felt it—that moment when everything works exactly how you planned it. I looked at her reaction instead of the crowd. That mattered more. The surprise. The disbelief. The way her eyes filled just a little before she tried to hide it. Yeah, that was worth it. I stayed close, steady, making sure she didn't feel overwhelmed, guiding her when people pushed her toward the cake. Everything went as planned. The singing, the candles, the laughter. I helped her cut the cake, my hand over hers, simple, normal… boyfriend things. That's what it was supposed to be. That's what I kept it. Music started, people loosened up, and for a moment, it felt like a normal party. Like I could just stay in that role and not think about anything else. Then the music shifted, slower, softer. I held out my hand, and she took it. People were already shouting, pushing us toward the center, so I didn't give them the chance to keep calling us out—I just took her with me into the middle and started the dance. I placed my hands on her waist, pulled her closer, and we moved to the rhythm. It was easy. Too easy. She rested against me, and I let it happen, keeping my focus where it was supposed to be. But then—something shifted. Not in the music. Not in her. In me. I didn't know why at first. Then I felt it. That kind of silence that doesn't belong in a room full of people, like something entered and changed the air. I didn't turn immediately. I didn't have to. I already knew. Anna. My grip tightened just slightly before I forced it to relax again. I kept dancing. I had to. Mary was still in my arms. The entire room was watching. Nothing had changed. And yet… everything had.
I didn't need to turn to know it was her, but I did anyway. Slowly. Controlled. Like nothing had shifted inside me at all. And there she was, standing in the doorway, like she had just stepped into the wrong place at the wrong time. The music was still playing, people still moving, voices still filling the room—but for me, everything dimmed just a little. She looked different from everyone else. Not because she tried to. Because she didn't. The uniform skirt, that oversized white sweater, like she hadn't planned to be here, like she had just walked into something she wasn't ready for. And for a second, I forgot what I was doing. I forgot Mary was still in my arms. I forgot the room. I forgot everything except the way Anna just stood there, frozen, like she didn't belong in that moment. My grip on Mary tightened slightly before I forced myself to relax it. Focus. I pulled my attention back to where it was supposed to be. Mary. The girl in front of me. The one tonight was for. I couldn't mess that up. Not for a look. Not for a feeling I didn't even understand. So I kept dancing. Slow. Steady. Like nothing had changed. But my eyes… they betrayed me. Just for a second. They went back to the door. Anna hadn't moved. Or maybe she had, but it felt like she hadn't. Then I saw it—the moment she decided to leave. The slight shift in her body, the way she turned, like she was already halfway out of the room before anyone even noticed she had been there. And something in me reacted before I could stop it. Not physically. Not enough for anyone to see. But inside… yeah. It didn't sit right. Then Elliot moved. Fast. Too fast for it to be random. He caught her wrist, pulled her back, and just like that, she was no longer leaving. My jaw tightened, but I forced my expression to stay neutral. I had no reason to react. No right to. I stayed where I was, my hands still on Mary, my body still moving with the rhythm like everything was normal. But my attention? It wasn't fully here anymore. I watched them without making it obvious. Elliot pulling her into the dance like it was nothing. Like it was casual. Like he had been waiting for that exact moment. And Anna… she didn't fight it. That part hit harder than I expected. She just moved with him. Let him guide her. Let him get that close. I looked away. I had to. The music shifted, louder now, people cheering, pulling me back into the center of the moment. Mary laughed softly, her hands loosening slightly from my shoulders, completely unaware of anything that had just happened. And that made it worse. I focused on her again, forced myself back into the role I had chosen. I led the dance, steady, controlled, moving with the easy rhythm of the song, giving her what she deserved—a good night, a real one. Not one half ruined by distractions I couldn't explain. When the song changed again, faster this time, I stepped back slightly, giving her space as the circle formed around us. People shouting, clapping, pushing the energy higher. It was easier like that. Less contact. Less room for my thoughts to wander where they shouldn't. I let her move into the center, watched her laugh, watched her enjoy it the way she should have from the start. And for a moment, I told myself that was enough. That this was how it was supposed to be. That whatever had just happened at that door didn't matter. But even then… even in the noise, in the music, in the middle of everything working exactly how I planned it… I still knew. Something had shifted. And I couldn't ignore it anymore. By the time the music slowed and people began to leave, the energy of the room softened into quiet laughter and tired voices. Mary stayed close, thanking everyone, smiling in that way she did when she was genuinely happy, and I stayed beside her like I was supposed to. Then Anna appeared again, this time not at a distance, not frozen in a doorway, but walking toward us with her friends. I didn't hear what she said to Mary. I didn't need to. I watched the way she leaned in, the way they hugged, the small goodbye kiss they shared, like nothing had changed between them. Then her eyes lifted, just briefly, meeting mine. She didn't speak. She just nodded. Simple. Controlled. And for a second, I almost said something. But nothing came out. So I did the only thing I could without breaking whatever this was. I winked. It was quick. Almost nothing. But it was enough. She turned away right after, leaving with the others like she had never stopped. And I stayed there, standing next to Mary, like everything was still exactly the same. Even though I already knew it wasn't.
I didn't sleep. Not really. I closed my eyes, turned from one side to the other, let the darkness sit with me, but sleep never fully came. Every time I got close to it, something pulled me back—the music, the laughter, the look on Mary's face when the lights came on… and then her. Anna. I exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling as the first light of morning started slipping through the edges of the curtains. It wasn't worth thinking about. That's what I kept telling myself. It was just a moment. A reaction. Nothing more. But the more I tried to ignore it, the clearer it became. The way she stood in that doorway. The way she almost left. The way Elliot caught her like it was his place to. My jaw tightened slightly at the thought, and that was enough. to make me sit up. I ran a hand over my face, already knowing I wasn't going back to sleep. So I got up. Early. Earlier than anyone else would. Being rather early, the whole location felt completely deserted. I threw on something simple and made my way out to the court. The air was chilly, sharper than usual, and it hit my skin in a way that woke me up instantly. Good. That was what I needed. Something physical. Something that didn't require thinking. I started with stretches, slow at first, then faster, letting my body take over, pushing myself harder with each movement. Running drills. Sprints. Anything to burn out the restlessness still sitting in my chest. For a while, it worked. My breathing got heavier, my muscles focused on the effort, and everything else faded just enough to give me space. But not completely. It never did. I stopped for a second, hands resting on my knees, catching my breath, when I felt it again—that shift. The kind that doesn't come from sound, but from presence. I straightened slowly, turning my head toward the entrance of the court. And there she was. Anna. For a second, I just looked at her. No noise. No distractions. Just her, standing there like she wasn't sure if she should be here or not. The early light caught on her in a way that made everything else seem… quieter. Simpler. I pushed that thought away immediately, straightening up fully, forcing my expression back to neutral. I wasn't supposed to be thinking like that. Not about her. Not like this. She started walking, and I moved not directly toward her, but enough that our paths crossed naturally. Too naturally. I didn't plan it. Maybe I did it and didn't even know. Either way, the next thing I knew, she was right there. Close. Too close again. She didn't see me at first. Still distracted. And then—impact. She walked straight into me. My body barely moved from it, but hers did, stepping back quickly as her head hit my chest. I looked down at her before she even looked up, already knowing what would happen next. And then she froze. I could see it. She recognized it before she even saw me. The scent. That was always her first reaction. I didn't move. Not immediately. I just stood there, watching the moment settle between us, heavier than it should have been. When she finally looked up, our eyes met, and for a second, nothing else existed. No Mary. No party. No reason. Just that same tension from last night, still there, still unresolved. She pulled back slightly, too fast, like distance mattered more now than anything else. I should have stepped aside right then. Let her pass. End it there. But I didn't. Not immediately. I stayed where I was, just enough to block her path without making it obvious. Our eyes stayed locked longer than they should have, and I could feel it—the same pull I had tried to ignore all night, stronger now, clearer. That was when I snapped out of it. I cleared my throat lightly, stepping back, giving her space again. "Sorry," I said, my voice lower than usual, controlled. She nodded quickly, not saying anything, and moved past me like she didn't want to stay there another second. I didn't stop her. I couldn't. I just stood there for a moment, watching her walk away, my chest still tight from something I didn't want to name. Then I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair before turning back to the court. I had come here to clear my head. Instead… I only made things worse.