It isn’t a choice.
It’s instinct.
A pull I don’t want to admit exists.
My eyes scan the crowd automatically, passing over familiar faces, lockers, bodies too close together.Then I find him.
Reece is slouched against the wall near the science wing, one shoulder pressed against the brick, hands in his pockets.He looks relaxed, lazy, yet dangerous in that effortless way that makes my stomach sink.His eyes are already on me, dark and focused, as if he knew I’d be searching.
My heart pounds so hard it almost knocks me off balance.
For half a second, the hallway vanishes.The noise dulls.The movement becomes blurry.It’s just him and that look, fixed on me with a certainty that makes my stomach twist.
Heat floods my chest, spreading quickly enough to steal my breath.My pulse races again, pounding too hard, too loud.
He doesn’t smile.He just watches me.Waiting.Knowing.
That’s what really gets to me.
The fact that he’s already looking directly at me the moment I step into view, as if this moment always belonged to him and he depended on me doing exactly what he expected.
My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag.My shoulders stiffen.I stay completely still because if I move, if I relax even slightly, I’ll break everything I’m trying to keep hidden.
I break eye contact first because I have to; if I don’t, I’ll stay there too long and let it turn into something else—something dangerous that he’ll interpret as permission.
And I refuse to give him that.
I turn down the hall and walk fast, boots pounding the floor harder than necessary.My spine stays straight.My face remains blank.I shape my expression into something calm and unaffected, even though my pulse is still tripping over itself.Every movement is controlled, as if I’m holding myself together by sheer force of will.
I sense his gaze on my back, anyway.
It’s physical—a weight pressing against my shoulder blades.My skin itches, nerves buzz, awareness edging beneath my clothes.Even with him behind me and out of sight, my body remains alert to him, tuned in, waiting for something I can’t bring myself to name.
The hallway goes on, too long and crowded, with bodies brushing past me from all sides and voices echoing off lockers and walls.There’s no place to hide in it.
I keep my head held high and my stride steady, even though my chest feels tight and my skin still tingles.I am painfully aware of myself—how I’m walking and how absurd it is that a single look from him can affect me this way.That I can feel off balance in the middle of a crowd that doesn’t have a clue about what’s playing out inside my mind.
Get your shit together, Sam.You don’t fall apart over boys.You don’t spiral in hallways or replay moments that should already be dead and buried.You breathe.You walk.You move on.
So I square my shoulders and keep moving, pretending I don’t feel him lingering behind me or that this hasn’t already gone deeper than I want to admit.
Chapter 8
Reece
Thehallwayistooloud.
Not because people are shouting, but because I can hear everything all at once.Lockers opening and slamming shut.Metal against metal.Sneakers squeaking on the floor in uneven rhythms.Someone laughing too hard near the science wing—that forced laugh that goes on a second too long.
Everything crashes together inside my head.
The buzz beneath my skin won’t settle.It never does, but today it feels tighter.Meaner.Coiled.Every nerve feels alive, stretched thin, waiting for something to snap.
I roll my shoulders once, jaw clenched, teeth grinding just a little.My hands curl and uncurl at my sides, knuckles itching for something to do.Something physical that hurts enough to shut everything else the fuck up.
The air is heavy.Warm in that exhausted school way that reeks of sweat and cheap deodorant and the lingering trace of cafeteria grease.It attaches to the back of my throat.
I walk faster.
