I wasn't traumatized. I was exhilarated. But Evan didn't need to know that, and more importantly, he didn't seem inclined to abandon me to my alleged emotional distress.
“You know,” I said as we navigated the thinning crowd, “I'm thinking of starting a survival guide to Hollow Pines. Chapter one: How to avoid getting murdered by locals. Chapter two: The care and feeding of mysterious guardian angels.”
Evan's lips definitely twitched that time.
“Chapter three could be about the local wildlife. I saw some interesting tracks in the forest yesterday. Huge paw prints, bigger than any dog I've ever seen. You know anything about that?”
His steps faltered for just a moment, so briefly I might have imagined it. But when I glanced at him, his expression had gone carefully neutral in a way that suggested I'd hit closer to the mark than either of us was comfortable with.
“Right,” I said slowly. “Local wildlife is off-limits. Got it.”
We reached my locker, and Evan leaned against the adjacent lockers, arms crossed, watching me with that same steadyattention that made me feel like he was cataloging every movement for future reference.
“For someone who doesn't talk, you're surprisingly good company.” I said, pulling out books I didn't actually need
He pulled out his notebook and wrote something, tearing off the page and handing it to me.
You talk enough for both of us.
I read it twice, then looked up at him with a grin. “That's fair. I've been told I have opinions about everything.”
Do you?
“Pretty much. It's a character flaw.” I tucked the note into my pocket with the others he'd given me over the past few weeks. “But hey, at least you'll never have to wonder what I'm thinking.”
That earned me something that might have been amusement flickering behind his eyes, quick and barely there but enough to make my chest warm with the small victory of it.
“What about you?” I asked, closing my locker. “Do you have opinions about everything, or are you just more selective about sharing them?”
He considered this seriously, pen hovering over paper before writing:Selective.
“Smart. Probably saves you from a lot of trouble.”
Usually.
The single word carried weight I couldn't quite decipher, like there was a story there he wasn't ready to tell. But that was okay. I was getting good at reading the spaces between his words, at understanding that sometimes the most important conversations happened in what wasn't said.
After school,I lingered by my locker longer than necessary, pretending to organize books I'd already organized twice while keeping one eye on the main exit. Most of the students had cleared out within ten minutes of the final bell, eager to escape into whatever passed for teenage freedom in Hollow Pines, but I was waiting for someone specific.
Evan appeared exactly seven minutes after the hallways had gone quiet, moving through the emptying building like he owned it. He grabbed whatever he needed from his locker with economical efficiency, shouldered his backpack, and headed for the side exit that led toward the forest.
Perfect.
I gave him a thirty-second head start, then followed.
The afternoon air was crisp enough to bite, carrying the scent of pine and something wilder that made my skin prickle with awareness. Evan's path led away from the main road, winding through residential streets that gradually gave way to scattered houses and then to the edge of the forest proper.
By the time I caught up with him at the treeline, I was slightly out of breath and definitely overthinking what I was about to do.
“Hey,” I called out, loud enough to make him stop and turn around, “mind if I walk with you?”
He stood there for a moment, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, studying me with an expression I couldn't read. Not angry, exactly, but not pleased either. More like he was trying to solve a particularly complex equation and I was the variable that didn't fit.
“I know you like your space,” I said, feeling suddenly awkward under his steady gaze. “But I could use the quiet, you know? After today.”
This was entirely true. The constant chatter of classrooms, the weight of being watched and evaluated by everyone I met,the pressure to be the perfect new student—it was exhausting. Something about Evan's presence felt like relief from all of that.
Evan's jaw worked like he was trying to decide whether to tell me to leave or just ignore me entirely. After a moment that felt like an hour, he shrugged and started walking again.
