I didn't notice him at first.
Not really.
He was just a boy at the edge of the hallway, leaning against the lockers like he belonged to a world I didn't dare touch.
But then I felt it. That shift.
Like something inside me turned toward him without permission.
And when I looked—really looked—he was already watching.
His eyes weren't just looking at me. They were studying me.
Like he knew something about me even I hadn't figured out yet.
Like I was a book he had read before.
And the worst part?
A small , broken part of me didn't feel scared.
It felt seen.