The Things Love Brings With It

The fluorescent lights of the hallway buzzed like angry wasps, casting a harsh glare over Dia and me as we stood exiled outside Geography class. Mrs. Greta’s voice seeped through the closed door, sharp and clipped, reciting facts about tectonic plates as if they’d personally offended her.

“If you know all the lessons, you two are more than welcome to go out of the class!” Her words still rang in my ears. First we’re expecting it as a threat, but her paused indicated us to leave!

Dia leaned against the lockers, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her jaw was set, her gaze fixed on the scuffed linoleum floor.

It was my first real crush. Hers too. But instead of bonding over it, we’d become landmines around each other—one wrong step and everything would blow up.

The bell rang, jolting us both. Classroom doors flew open, and students flooded the hallway like a dam had burst. Dia and I shuffled awkwardly to the side, still refusing to speak. That’s when I saw him.

Zachek—emerged from a classroom down the hall, surrounded by his friends. He laughed at something one of them said, tossing his head back, his dark hair catching the light. My stomach did a traitorous flip.

Dia stiffened. In a flash, she’d smoothed her hair, straightened her blazer, and pasted on a smile so forced it looked painful. Meanwhile, I stood there in my wrinkled hoodie, hair frizzing out of its bun, looking like I’d lost a fight with a lawnmower.

As his group and him neared us, my heart hammered. His eyes flicked to mine, and he slowed, lingering as his friends moved ahead.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Are you feeling better now?”

The question hung in the air like a grenade. Dia’s smile faltered.

“I’m… fine,” I managed, my voice barely audible.

He stepped closer. Too close. I caught the faint scent of his cologne—something woodsy and warm—and my brain short-circuited. His fingers brushed my nose, startling me.

“You had something here,” he said, holding up a tiny fleck of dried skin. “From earlier, I think. My button must’ve scraped you.”

Mortification burned through me. Dia’s eyes darted between us, her earlier smile gone.

Zechek glanced at her, then back at me, his brow furrowing as if he’d just noticed the tension crackling between us. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then he cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Glad you’re okay,” he muttered before jogging to catch up with his friends.

Dia’s gaze followed him, her expression unreadable. When he turned the corner, she let out a breath I hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“I’ll be back,” she said abruptly, her voice brittle.

She didn’t look at me as she walked away, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. I watched her go, my chest aching. The hallway felt colder now, the laughter of passing students grating against my nerves.

Back in Geography class, the nerd from the front row—Hiqa, with his perfectly aligned pens and judgmental glare—shot me a look of pure disdain as I slunk to my seat. Mrs. Greta ignored me, her chalk screeching across the board as she diagrammed a volcano.

Dia didn’t return until the end of class. When she did, her eyes were red-rimmed, her mascara slightly smudged. She didn’t mention Zechek. Didn’t mention anything.

But as we packed up our bags, she paused, her voice barely a whisper.

“He looked at you like you were the only person in the hallway.” I froze. Before I could respond, she shouldered her bag and walked out.

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