⭐ CHAPTER 11 — The Things Kyle Doesn't
The rest of the day felt stretched thin — like every second carried weight.
Amara stayed quiet through most classes.
Jonah's warning kept replaying in her mind, mixing with the note in her pocket and Kyle's reaction.
Dangerous.
The word clung to her like dust.
Not because she believed Jonah…
but because Kyle's expression had shifted the moment he heard it.
Like a shadow passing behind his eyes.
Kyle wasn't dangerous.
She knew that.
At least… she thought she did.
By the time the final bell rang, Amara was exhausted.
She packed her books slowly, hoping to slip out unnoticed.
But Kyle was already waiting at the door.
He didn't say anything.
He just held out her water bottle — the one she forgot on her desk.
She managed a quiet, "Thanks."
His eyes softened a little.
"Walk with me."
She hesitated.
But something in her chest tugged her forward, so she followed.
⭐ The Empty Hallway
The hallway was nearly empty after school hours.
Only a few teachers passed by, barely glancing at them.
Kyle walked slowly, hands in pockets, head slightly down.
He wasn't tense — more like he was thinking deeply.
Finally, he spoke.
"You're afraid of something."
Amara swallowed.
"I'm fine."
Kyle stopped walking and turned to face her.
"Ama."
Her name in his voice made her chest feel warm and heavy at the same time.
"I want to help," he said quietly. "If something is happening, just tell me."
Amara looked away.
"I don't want to drag you into anything."
"You're not dragging me," Kyle said, stepping closer.
"I'm already in."
Her heart stuttered.
She opened her mouth… then closed it.
He studied her face for a long moment.
Then he sighed.
"Fine. If you won't talk…"
He ran a hand through his hair.
"…then I will."
Amara blinked.
"What do you mean?"
Kyle leaned against the wall, staring at the floor like he was fighting with himself.
"I'm not… good at opening up," he said.
"You know that."
She nodded gently.
"But Jonah saying those things earlier…"
He shook his head.
"You probably deserve to hear at least a little truth."
Her breath caught.
This was new.
Kyle never willingly talked about himself.
He joked, he teased, he protected — but he kept his real thoughts buried deep.
Amara moved closer without realizing.
Kyle took a slow breath.
"When I was in JSS2," he began quietly, "I got into a fight. A big one."
Amara froze.
"I didn't start it," he added quickly, "but I finished it… badly."
Silence wrapped around them.
"I was almost suspended," he continued, "and some people… haven't forgotten."
His jaw tightened.
"They act like one mistake defines me forever."
Amara's heart softened painfully.
"So that's why Jonah said you're dangerous?" she whispered.
Kyle nodded once, jaw clenched.
"He thinks he knows everything about me."
He shook his head.
"But he doesn't know who I am now. He didn't see everything that happened after."
Amara stepped closer.
"What happened after?"
Kyle hesitated.
His eyes flicked away — guilt, or pain, or something heavy.
"I can't tell you everything," he said quietly.
"But… I'm not that person anymore. I'm really trying."
Amara's chest tightened.
She believed him.
Every word.
Because unlike Jonah's empty warnings, Kyle's voice trembled with something real.
"You're not dangerous," she whispered.
Kyle looked up.
Their eyes locked.
Something warm and fragile passed between them — something neither of them dared name.
⭐ The New Threat
Before Amara could say anything else, her bag vibrated.
A message.
She frowned and pulled out her phone.
Unknown number.
Her stomach dropped.
"You shouldn't walk alone after school."
Her hands went cold.
Kyle noticed immediately.
"Ama… what is it?"
She didn't answer.
Another message appeared instantly:
"He can't protect you forever."
Her breath hitched.
Kyle stepped forward, voice sharp.
"Amara. Show me."
She swallowed hard and handed him the phone.
Kyle's entire expression changed.
His jaw clenched.
His shoulders tightened.
His eyes darkened in a way she had never seen before.
"Ama…" he whispered, voice low and furious, "who the hell is sending this?"
"I don't know," she whispered.
Kyle's fingers curled around the phone like he wanted to crush it.
"Have they messaged you before?"
Amara stared at the floor.
Slowly… she nodded.
Kyle closed his eyes for a moment — like he was stopping himself from exploding.
"You should have told me."
"I didn't want to stress you," she whispered.
Kyle took a step closer — too close, too warm — and lowered his voice.
"You think protecting you is stress?"
Her breath trembled.
He was close enough that she could feel his warmth.
Close enough that she forgot they were supposed to be fake.
Kyle gently took her hand.
Not like a boyfriend.
Not like a friend.
But like someone terrified of losing what he just realized he cared about.
"Ama," he said softly, "I'm not letting anything happen to you."
Her heart thudded painfully.
"Even if you're scared to tell me… even if you don't trust me with everything yet…
I'm not going anywhere."
Her throat tightened, eyes burning.
Kyle squeezed her hand — slow, gentle, warm.
"I'll stay as long as you want me to."
The world felt quiet.
Soft.
Too soft.
Too dangerous in its own way.
Amara looked up at him.
"Kyle…" she whispered.
His eyes dropped to her lips.
Just for a second.
Barely a heartbeat.
But she saw it.
And he realized she saw it.
He stepped back quickly, running a hand through his hair.
"Sorry," he muttered, voice low.
"That was… I didn't mean to—"
Amara shook her head.
"It's okay."
Kyle blinked.
Like her words hit him too hard.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke.
But something had changed.
Something neither of them could pretend was fake anymore.