--
I didn't stop walking until I reached the girls' bathroom, the heavy door swinging shut behind me with a hollow echo.
My reflection stared back at me from the mirror—eyes wide, skin pale, sleeve tugged down over the cut finger like a child hiding a broken toy. I gripped the sink until my knuckles whitened.
Why did he do that? Why did he touch me?
I hated the way my chest still felt warm where his arms had been. I hated that my pulse hadn't slowed down. And most of all, I hated that it wasn't fear keeping it racing.
"Get it together, Amara," I muttered under my breath, splashing cold water on my face. The sting against my cut made me flinch, but at least it grounded me.
I pulled my mask back on, shoulders straight, expression fixed in the perfect smile. Just Amara. Just fine. Always fine.
But deep down, I knew—I wasn't fooling him.
Meanwhile, across campus, Adrian leaned against the lockers, arms folded, his mind replaying the last few minutes on a loop. Jayden had already left, but his words clung like shadows: Don't lose yourself in it.
Lose myself? He almost laughed at the thought. He'd spent years building walls no one could break through. Until her. Until Amara.
And now, all he could think about was the way her voice cracked when she said she didn't need anyone.
--
I stormed out of the bathroom, sneakers slapping against the tile, my pulse still rattling from him. From that hug. From everything.
I hadn't even caught my breath when the sound of footsteps and chatter grew louder.
"There you are!" Shelly's voice cut through the air before I could vanish. She rushed over, Joy right behind her, both of them frowning like mothers catching a runaway child.
"Amara, what happened? You look—flushed." Joy's hand was already reaching for my arm, eyes scanning me up and down like I'd just come out of a car crash.
My stomach twisted. Not now. Please, not now.
I forced a smile, the kind I'd mastered years ago. "Relax, I'm fine. Just needed some air."
Shelly tilted her head, suspicious. "Air? You bolted out of the cafeteria like it was on fire. Did someone say something to you?"
"Yeah, tell us!" Joy chimed in, already bracing like she was ready to fight whoever it was. "You know we've got your back."
Their concern—it should've warmed me. Should've made me feel safe. Instead, it pressed heavier on my chest. They didn't know. They couldn't know.
"I'm fine," I repeated, softer this time, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder. My cut finger throbbed under the sleeve, hidden but sharp, like it was reminding me of the truth: nothing about me was fine.
Shelly narrowed her eyes, unconvinced, but finally linked her arm through mine. "Fine, but you're not ditching us at lunch again. Come on."
I let them guide me back, my smile plastered in place. On the outside, I was Amara—the one who always had it together, the one who couldn't be shaken.
But inside, my walls were cracking. And he was the reason why.
--
I leaned against the lockers, half-hidden by the bend in the hallway. From here, I saw everything.
Amara.
She looked calm again—too calm. Laughing lightly at something Shelly said, shaking her head like Joy's fussing was over-the-top. If I hadn't seen her in the cafeteria, if I hadn't felt her body tense when I stopped her in the hall, I might've believed it.
But I knew better.
That smile of hers—it was perfect. Too perfect. A shield. And the way her sleeve kept tugged low over her hand… yeah, she was hiding something.
I followed at a distance as they pulled her back into the cafeteria. The crowd swallowed her up instantly, voices overlapping, trays clattering. She sat at her usual spot, her laugh slipping out at just the right moments, her eyes darting to each friend like she was balancing plates in the air.
To everyone else, she looked untouchable—bright, steady, unshakable.
But I couldn't unsee it.
The way her fingers fidgeted beneath the table. The way her smile faltered in the half-second between jokes.
She was slipping. And for some reason I couldn't explain, I wasn't about to let her fall.
--
The door shut behind me with a dull click, and silence pressed in. No chatter, no stares, no footsteps trailing after me. Just me.
I dropped my bag onto the couch and sank into the nearest chair, exhaling hard like I'd been holding my breath all day. The smile I'd worn for Shelly and Joy was long gone, wiped clean the moment I crossed the threshold.
I peeled the damp paper towel from my finger, wincing at the angry red line beneath. It wasn't deep, not really. But it throbbed anyway, pulsing with every beat of my heart, a reminder of the morning. A reminder of him.
Anger bubbled first. At myself for being careless. At the world for shoving one misfortune after another into my lap. At him for making me feel seen when all I wanted was to disappear.
But beneath the anger was something worse. Fear. Not of him, exactly—but of what his eyes had pulled out of me. He'd read me like an open book, and I'd never hated the truth more.
I pressed my palms into my eyes, rocking forward. Why him? Why now?
And then—something else. The thing I refused to name. The warmth that still lingered where his arms had been. The echo of his voice in my ear.
I shook my head violently, pushing up from the chair. "No," I muttered, pacing across the apartment. "Not happening. Not me."
But no matter how many times I said it, the truth clawed at me.
I wasn't angry enough.
I wasn't afraid enough.
And I wasn't sure I hated the way he made me feel.
I drifted toward the window, arms wrapping around myself as I stared out at the fading sky. The city was alive beneath me—cars sliding through the streets, voices floating up from the sidewalks, a thousand lives moving forward without me.
My reflection glared back faintly in the glass. Strong. Untouchable. Exactly how I wanted the world to see me.
But behind the glass, behind the mask, the crack was there.
And I couldn't decide if I wanted to fix it… or let it break.