She thought no one noticed her, but she didn’t see the shit I saw with these men around her. The heads she turned, the stares piercing her every time she walked down the hall, whispers about her physique, the whole lot. They just didn’t try because the ‘mute’ girl was hard work to get with, not worth it. She never seemed to notice them, but I did. And I hated it.
She never talked, and I’d always owned that silence. Where other people saw weakness, I saw something private and valuable, an unclaimed space I could step into any time I want.
She didn’t owe anyone noise. She didn’t owe anyone performance. And because she was quiet, she was mine in a way loud women never are.
Maybe that was the sick part, I celebrated her silence the way other men celebrated a trophy.
I didn’t resent it.
I didn’t push.
I let it be because it kept the rest of the world from touching her. Who would go for a girl who didn’t speak? Right? She was only good for the eye.
So for now, she was mine.
For now, not meaning until someone else came to take her from me, but until she realised that someone already claimed the spot beside her. Then, everything would finally fall into place.
Let them look. Let them fantasise. But anyone who tries to take herwilllearn the hard way that some thingsaren’tworth living for.
Chapter Five
Aurora
I stood by Aly’s locker, clutching the strap of my bag like it was the only thing keeping me upright. I was on time.
Exactly on time.
I’d even counted the minutes on the clock, made sure I left early just in case. But the hallway was… quiet. Too quiet.
My sneakers scuffed against the polished floor, echoing louder than they should have in the silence.
Pin-drop silence.
That kind of silence that crawls under your skin, makes you feel small, makes you certain you’ve been stupid to believe anyone would really want you around.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, eyes darting down the hall, waiting for someone… anyone to appear. Nothing.
Of course. I should’ve known better. I always know better. People aren’t kind, not really. They pretend, sometimes, for a while, until the joke runs its course.
Until the punchline is me, standing exactly where they told me to stand, waiting like an idiot for something that will never come.
My chest tightened, hope thrashing against my ribs even as I told it to die already.
Just walk away.Pretend it doesn’t sting. Pretend it doesn’t matter. Pretend you didn’t want it.
I gave her ten minutes. Ten long, dragging minutes where every tick of the second hand mocked me for being so naive.
Then I turned on my heel, swallowing hard, already rehearsing the lie I’d tell myself later,I didn’t care. I knew it would happen. It’s better this way.
“I’m so sorry I’m late!”
The voice—bright, breathless, rushing—made me freeze mid-step. My head turned before I could stop it. Aly, cheeks flushed, hair bouncing as she jogged toward me, her smile so warm it almost hurt to look at.
“Jen wouldn’t let me go; she was desperate to come with.” She laughed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it herself. She lifted both hands, and in them, two sandwiches wrapped neatly in paper. “Luckily, I got us lunch. I hope that makes up for it.”
I blinked at her, my heart stuttering like it forgot how to beat properly.
She wasn’t lying.
