“Better to let it out than to hide it.”

They say a crush either fades or settles deep enough to grow roots. I never knew which mine would become—but I’ve known one thing for sure: her name is Sarah.

Chapter One: The Flicker in Her Eyes

It started with her silence.

I took Sarah’s hand, soft and still, and searched her eyes. Something flickered—uncertainty? Shame? Her gaze dropped before I could be sure.

“Is it true?” I asked gently. “What your mom’s colleague said?”

She didn’t answer, and I couldn’t tell whether she was embarrassed by what I’d heard—or by the fact that her mom had shared it at all. I tried to laugh it off, to warm the air between us with something silly.

“Hey, remember when you dropped that double beef burger on your lap? It was everywhere.”

Sarah groaned with laughter. “You’ll never let me live that down.”

And just like that, the awkwardness cracked. Our laughter spilled into the room like light through a window, even pulling Mrs. Brown into its warmth. It was one of those rare, untouchable moments—the kind that makes the world feel smaller and safer.

Then came the story. One of Sarah’s childhood blunders, told with nostalgic flair by Mrs. Brown. I watched Sarah listen, mortified but laughing, radiant in the glow of her past.

That’s when Charlie appeared.

“May I take your daughter on a date?” the waiter asked, bold and disarming.

The laughter faded. My smile stayed, but it wasn’t real anymore. What was this—jealousy? Dread?

Before Sarah could answer, he was whisked away by a new order, leaving a question dangling like a spark in dry grass.

We stepped into the night. The scent of coffee clung to the air like the memory of something you wanted to hold on to.

Then, Charlie reappeared beside me.

“Bro, can I get her number?”

I gave it. Just like that.

Don’t ask why. Fear. Confusion. That sinking belief that love might break more than it builds.

Back at the car, Sarah’s question cut straight. “Were you talking about me?”

My answer—sharp, defensive—was worse than a lie. Silence swallowed everything else, until Mrs. Brown pulled us from the edge.

That night, as I lay in bed, the quiet felt heavier than usual—until my phone rang.

Peter.

“I messed up,” he confessed. A moment of temptation. A fight with Shalom. A love maybe lost.

I offered what comfort I could. But deep inside, I saw the pattern. We men, too afraid to say what we want. Too eager to sabotage what we have.

Just as I closed my eyes again, my phone lit up.

Sarah.

“Why do you despise me?”

Her voice was trembling, not with rage—but with heartbreak. “Did I ask you to find me someone? Was I desperate?”

I had tried to protect my feelings by pretending they didn’t exist. But in doing so, I had hurt the only person they belonged to.

“I thought I was helping,” I said. “I see now I wasn’t.”

And then—nothing. Just silence. Then the screen: Call ended.

I stood there, the cup of coffee cooling in my hand, untouched. Its rich aroma couldn’t drown the silence Sarah had left behind.

She didn’t just hang up on a call.

She hung up on the version of me that chose fear over honesty. And I couldn’t blame her.

She liked me. Maybe even loved me, in her quiet, guarded way. And I—I never told her how I felt. I played the supportive friend, the harmless confidant. I thought it would protect us both.

Instead, I gave away her number like she was just another stranger. And in doing so, I told her—without meaning to—that I didn’t see her the way she saw me.

Maybe if I’d said something. Maybe if I’d asked. Maybe if I’d just tried.

But I didn’t.

Now all I had was the sound of her voice cracking into tears, and a blank screen that read Call ended.

I took a long sip, bitter and cold. And for the first time in a long time, the storm I’d always kept at bay broke loose—inside me.

The next morning, I was eager to make amends with Sarah, who was still mad at me. I called her early, but she didn't pick up. I wondered if she was busy or just avoiding me. At school, Sarah continued to dodge me, refusing to talk or even acknowledge my presence. It still baffled me how quickly things fell apart, all because I gave her contact to someone I thought could help. What I saw as a small favor, she took as betrayal.

As I navigated the empty halls, I felt a deep sense of loneliness. My friends were all preoccupied with their own relationships - Chris was with Ariel, and Peter was trying to reconcile with his girlfriend. I was left feeling isolated and desperate.

As I was in my room the other day, I thought about my painful past and how I used to be a loner. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I realized that no matter what, I'd always have to face reality alone.

Needing a distraction, I then took a walk to the coffee shop. That's when I saw her – a young woman sitting alone on a bench, looking lost and troubled. I approached her cautiously.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, trying to sound gentle.

She looked up, her eyes welling up with tears. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice cracking.

I sat down beside her and offered her my face towel. "You seem troubled," I said gently. "Want to grab a cup of coffee with me and clear our minds?"

She nodded her head, and we walked to the coffee shop together.

"By the way, I'm Cedric."

"I know you, Cedric - Sarah's friend, right?" she replied.

"My name is Mitchell," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "When you approached me earlier, I was lost in thought. A lot is going on in my life, and I just want to escape, but I don't know how." Her voice cracked as she spoke, and I could sense the depth of her emotions.

Mitchell let out a deep sigh, then smiled warmly. "Thanks for suggesting coffee, Cedric. I really needed this break and I am glad I am here especially with you"

As we sipped our coffee, Mitchell opened up more about herself. "To be honest, I grew up in a poor family," she said, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "Sometimes I'm embarrassed to talk about it, but for some reason, I feel comfortable sharing it with you." She paused, gazing at me with a warm smile. "I guess you're just easy to talk to Cedric, and you easily let people in"

Mitchell's smile widened as she continued, "I have two other siblings, a brother who's second in line, and my little sister - who's basically my mini-me!" She burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but join in. As we chatted and shared funny stories, I felt an instant connection with her. It was as if we'd known each other for years.

After coffee, I asked Mitchell if she wanted to do something fun. We ended up going bowling, and she had a blast. As we played, I noticed Sarah watching us from across the room, a mixture of anger and sadness on her face.

As the evening drew to a close, I asked Mitchell if she wanted to grab dinner with me. She agreed, and we walked out together, arm in arm. "Cedric, I don't wanna lie, let me confess that today I am happy to have found someone to connect with, as I usually am alone all the time."

Just as things were going smoothly, Sarah appeared out of nowhere, her eyes blazing with jealousy. She poured water on Mitchell, splashed another glass in her face.

Sarah's eyes blazed with anger as she confronted Mitchell. "You're the reason Cedric is pushing me away, how could you?" Her voice was shrill, her eyes red-rimmed, and her face twisted in a fierce scowl. She was terrifying.

As Sarah’s words dissolved into sobs, Charlie stepped between us, his jaw clenched. “Sarah, come on,” he said firmly, guiding her away. “This isn’t helping.”

A moment later, he returned, eyes sharp with resentment. “So this is what you’re doing now?” he muttered. “Hijacking my night like that?”

I opened my mouth to explain, but the words got lost somewhere in my throat.

“Whatever,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “Enjoy your little moment.” Then he walked out, leaving behind a silence louder than any outburst.

Charlie wasn’t finished with me. He stormed back into the restaurant, his expression thunderous, his jaw locked tight. The strangers who had been holding me moments before exchanged uneasy glances and stepped aside, leaving me exposed in the charged silence.

A bolt of adrenaline surged through me. My muscles tensed, breath catching. For a fleeting moment, I wasn’t the timid version of myself I’d always known — I was grounded, steady, unwilling to be rattled. Charlie’s eyes flickered, catching the shift in me. He hadn’t expected defiance.

He marched toward me, his chest puffed like a storm cloud gathering. I instinctively stepped back, bracing for something — a shove, a glare, a tirade — but then I heard Mitchell’s words in my mind like a sudden gust: Run, Cedric, run.

I didn’t wait to decipher their meaning. I turned and darted out of the restaurant, the cool night air slicing against my cheeks as I sprinted into the darkness, breath burning in my throat.

Why did I run? Maybe it wasn’t just fear — maybe it was the weight of it all: the humiliation, the unanswered questions, the toxic tension I didn’t want to wear anymore. I kept running until the lights of the restaurant faded behind me.

By the time I reached my room, the shadows felt heavier than usual. I collapsed onto my bed, still catching my breath. Only then did Mitchell come to mind. Had she waited? Was she okay? I didn’t even know where she lived… or how to reach her.

Her warning echoed over and over: Run, Cedric, run.What was she trying to tell me?

The night stretched long and suffocating. I lay there, restless, my body aching from tension, my thoughts trapped on a loop. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the intensity in Charlie’s face — not violence, but control. That cold kind of rage that doesn’t need fists to bruise.

Just after midnight, my phone buzzed. I blinked hard and grabbed it — Stanley.

“Hey brother, how’s it?” I asked, surprised and relieved all at once.

His voice came through warm and steady. “Cedric, my guy. I miss you, bro.”

“I miss you too,” I said, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. “You disappeared on us.”

“I know,” he admitted, his tone dipped in nostalgia. “Recovering from that accident messed me up for a while. I missed so much… missed you. But I’m back now — fully.”

His voice cracked just slightly, and I could feel the truth settle between us.

“I wanted to surprise you in class tomorrow,” he said, “but something told me to check in first. Are you okay after what happened tonight?”

I stiffened. “You heard?”

“My friend works at the restaurant,” he explained. “Saw my post and recognized you. Told me what happened. I was worried, bro.”

I sat in that quiet moment of brotherhood, grateful beyond words.

“What a brother’s keeper,” I finally said, the lightness returning to my voice. “But I’m okay. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

We hung up, and the silence felt a little less crushing.

The next morning, I was restless. Mitchell’s warning gnawed at me. I didn’t know if she had meant Charlie, or something deeper — something I hadn’t seen yet. I muttered a quiet prayer, asking for clarity.

Sarah, meanwhile, still refused to look at me. It stung more than I wanted to admit.

Then, in the middle of it all, a gentle tap on my shoulder.

“Here you are, Cedric,” came a soft, familiar voice.

I turned. Mitchell stood there, her presence a balm. “You have no idea how hard it was to find you,” she teased, settling beside me.

Her tone shifted, softened. “Cedric… I know Charlie. That night wasn’t out of character. He’s always been that way — controlling, selfish. He uses people’s silence to his advantage.”

Her voice trembled slightly, but she held my gaze.

I blinked, trying to take in her words. “Wait — how do you know all this? Were you two…?”

Before she could answer, a passing guy with a playful grin called out, “Mitchell! New boyfriend, huh? What happened to Charlie?”

Her face paled. She looked at me, eyes red, words catching in her throat.

“Cedric… I was just about to tell you, and you know…”

To be continued…