Aleah's POV
It wasn't hate that lived in my chest — not for Yasmin.
But distance?
Distance was quieter.
It didn't claw at me or leave bruises behind my ribs. It just... let me breathe.
I kept walking, each step pressing down like I was trying to outrun a feeling I wasn't ready to name. The hallways buzzed with noise — conversations overlapping, lockers slamming, footsteps echoing against cold tiles.
Then I paused.
Up ahead, just past the bend near the math wing, someone stood alone. A tall figure in a dark hoodie, leaning against the wall like he belonged there, like he'd always been a part of this background I'd never noticed.
My eyes narrowed. Something about him felt familiar — the slope of his shoulders, the careless way he looked around like nothing mattered. My heartbeat gave a subtle jolt.
Was that…?
The boy.
The one who bumped into me.
The one who didn't even say sorry.
But before I could convince myself to look again — really look — he turned slightly, and the crowd swallowed his face. A second later, he was gone.
Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe I just wanted it to be someone.
Or maybe my brain was playing its usual tricks — feeding me echoes instead of answers.
Either way, I didn't stop.
I just adjusted my bag and headed for class, pretending I didn't care.
Even if my pulse hadn't quite settled.