CHAPTER TWO

When the bell rang for the afternoon classes, I followed the same routine: listening, pretending to engage, and keeping to myself.

Finally, the bell rang again—this time signaling the end of the day. The rush of students flooding out of the classrooms was a familiar sound, but it didn’t concern me. I didn’t hurry to pack up. No one was waiting for me outside, and I didn’t care about the crowds filling the hallways. I took my time, slipping my things into my bag, my movements slow and deliberate.

The hallway was already quieter as I stepped out, the majority of students already on their way home or lingering in groups, chatting away. I passed by them without a second thought, my mind already on the walk home. The sound of my footsteps echoed off the walls as I made my way toward the exit.

The cold air hit me as I stepped outside, the sky streaked with the orange and pink of the setting sun. It was the kind of moment that could feel peaceful if I allowed it to. But I didn’t think about it. I just walked, one foot in front of the other, heading home where the silence would be waiting for me. It was familiar. It was enough.

The day was over, and tomorrow would be the same.

As soon as I stepped through the door, the familiar silence greeted me. It wasn’t the kind of silence that felt empty—it was just a routine I had grown accustomed to. No voices, no noise. Just the quiet hum of the house, waiting for me to settle in.

I didn’t bother checking if anyone was home. There usually wasn’t. My mom worked late most days, and we didn’t have much to say to each other when she was around anyway.

I made my way to my room, the soft creak of the floorboards underfoot the only sound. The door clicked shut behind me, and I pulled off my school clothes—still stiff from the day—and changed into something more comfortable. A faded band t-shirt and loose jeans. Nothing fancy. Just the kind of clothes I could disappear into.

I tossed my school uniform onto the bed and glanced around the room, a space that felt more like a refuge than a place to live. The walls were bare, save for a few posters I had put up without much thought. The bed was always made, but nothing else was ever really in order.

I grabbed my jacket from the chair by the window and shrugged it on. The last thing I wanted was to stay cooped up here, even if I didn't have any particular destination in mind. I needed something to eat—something that didn’t come from a school cafeteria or the leftovers in the fridge. A quick stop at the convenience store would do.

The cool air hit me as I stepped outside. The walk to the store was short, but it was a kind of space where I could just clear my mind, away from everything. I didn’t mind it.

I picked out a few snacks—nothing special, just enough to get me through the night. The cashier rang up my items, his hands quick and practiced. As I fumbled for my wallet, I noticed something from the corner of my eye.

A hand.

It was large—much bigger than mine, with thick fingers and veins that looked like they had been carved into the skin. I couldn’t help but notice how muscular it was, the way it moved with purpose as he adjusted the change. I shifted my gaze upward, slowly, my eyes tracing the arm to his sleeve, then further up to the shoulder, the firm line of his jaw...

Before I could really process it, our eyes met.

I froze, caught in that brief, inexplicable moment. His gaze was steady, but mine immediately faltered. I felt something stir in my chest, a slight unease, like I had been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to. Without thinking, I turned my eyes quickly to the side, focusing on the rack of magazines near the counter.

I wasn’t sure why I felt that sudden discomfort. It was just eye contact, nothing more. But it was enough to make me feel a little off balance. I blinked, pushing the feeling away as I handed over the money, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck.

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