Eight years went by, and nothing between us changed, which was good. I hate change, and so does he.
We headed towards my car, our usual spot for lunch, but I froze in my tracks, seeing a familiar frame, an unfamiliar outfit walking out from the other building entrance.
Her head was down, reading her stupid book as her hair fell in front of her face. Though she wasn’t in the same outfit from this morning, I didn’t need her face to know it was her.
After 143 days of watching, memorising her frame, her light brown, pin-straight hair cascading to her waist, and that little quirk of tapping her books whenever she read a word, I knew.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I started heading in her direction with Alex, lazily following behind.
And as if she felt the air shift, she stopped walking, shoulders stiff, and lifted her head, brown eyes locking with mine. I watched, memorising every flicker, her eyelashes fluttering, pupils dilating.
Her gaze lowered to my hoodie, anywhere but my eyes, really. Too obvious, too predictable.
“Did you hand in your project on time?” My voice came laced with more curiosity than I allowed.
She looked up, lips parted, and that was it. I felt it. My chest tightened as if someone had shoved a fist into it, a rare kind of anticipation that made my teeth ache. It felt like I was about to be handed something grand. Something I’d been patiently waiting for.
And Idon’thave patience.
I watched closely as her breath hitched and all she did, all she ever fucking did. Nod. Once. Didn’t try to utter a single word, not one.
I scoffed, shaking my head before striding away from the disappointment.
Was it my body language? Face? Tone? What the fuck did I do to make her swallow theonlything I wanted back down?
My hand found the door handle of my car, and for the last time, I turned.
Gone.
She wasn’t there anymore, but I didn’t bother to search for her. I slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, harder than I intended, but I didn’t care.
The hum of the engine filled the silence, steady and low. Alex had the passenger seat reclined, shoes propped up on the dashboard as if he owned the car. He was doing what he always did, scanning the campus, eyes sharp, daring anyone to hold his stare for too long. They never did. People crossed the lot faster when they saw us here.
“Well, aren’t they in a rush?” he muttered, watching a group of girls speed past in the rearview mirror.
“Maybe don’t stare,” I said, scrolling through my phone.
“Me? Never.” His tone was mock-offended.
Before I could reply, he leaned over and snatched my phone straight out of my hand. I let out a slow breath and grabbed his off the console, dead, charging.
Of course. Fuck my life.
I dropped it back and leaned against the seat, eyes drifting outside. If Alex could amuse himself by people-watching, maybe I could too. Anything to distract from the monotony.
And then I saw her. Again. As if my eyes didn’t know how to focus on someone or something else, I stared.
She was now sitting by herself, perched on a bench under one of those trees that always looked half-dead this time of year. The same book was open on her lap, an apple in her hand.
That was it. Just a girl eating fruit and reading. Ordinary. Nothing that should hold me. Nothing that should matter.
But I couldn’t look away.
I felt a light twitch in my face as my mind drifted to earlier. When her lips parted, they opened as if she were about to utter some kind of sound to me. But chose not to.
“Why can’t you just speak?” I muttered, barely realising the words slipped out.
Alex lazily looked up, one brow cocked. “She isn’t mute.”
