Amanda stepped out of the school gates, backpack heavy on her shoulders, hood pulled low. The rain from earlier had left the sidewalks slick, reflecting the fading afternoon sunlight like shards of broken glass. Her boots clicked sharply against the wet pavement as she walked, eyes fixed on the horizon.
She barely registered the sound of footsteps falling into sync behind her until a voice called out, hesitant but unmistakable.
"Amanda… hey."
She glanced over her shoulder. David. His hair plastered from the rain, eyes anxious. He held his backpack strap like it was a lifeline.
"I—uh—can walk you home," he said, voice tentative.
Amanda didn't even slow her pace. She didn't glance back.
"That's… okay," she muttered flatly, not even making eye contact. "I've got this."
But David didn't back off. He fell into step behind her, careful to keep a respectful distance.
The walk was tense. Amanda's mind was elsewhere, replaying the burnt smell, the detectives, the whispers at school. She ignored him completely. David tried once, twice, to make small talk. Each time, she responded with nothing more than a clipped word or a shake of her head.
And then, the shadows at the corner thickened.
Jonas. Mason. Reggie. Lounging lazily on the edge of the sidewalk, as if they had been waiting for this exact moment. Amanda's pace didn't falter, but her jaw tightened.
"Well, well… if it isn't the little firestarter herself," Jonas sneered. "And look who's tagging along. What's this? A cute little couple?"
Amanda didn't look at him. She kept walking, boots splashing faintly in puddles.
"Hey!" Jonas called louder, stepping into her path. "I'm talking to you! Is he your boyfriend or something?"
Still nothing. Amanda's silence was deliberate, sharp, and cold.
David's face turned pale. He opened his mouth to speak, but Amanda's gaze cut him off—a single glance over her shoulder that said not a word.
Jonas' smirk faltered. His hands curled into fists. "You're lucky I don't feel like smashing your face in right now," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Or maybe I should beat him up right in front of you… see if you're still going to act all cold and mysterious."
Amanda finally stopped. She turned slowly, hood falling back slightly, rain dripping from her hair. Her eyes met his, icy and unwavering.
"I don't care about him," she said softly, deliberately, letting her words land like stones. "Do whatever you want. You can beat him up for all I care. I'll still walk away."
Jonas froze. His smirk twisted into something sharper, angrier. His friends shifted uneasily. David's mouth opened, closed, and opened again, speechless.
Amanda adjusted her backpack, shrugged lightly, and resumed walking, her boots clicking against the wet pavement.
Neither Jonas, nor Mason, nor Reggie said a word.
And David—well, he just stood there, stunned, caught somewhere between awe, confusion, and the hollow realization that Amanda wasn't the same girl she used to be.
Amanda's silhouette receded down the street, and the cold evening air seemed to follow her, carrying her quiet strength like a warning no one dared ignore.
Jason snickered and walked away too leaving David alone. He stood there not knowing what else to do…. except he knew….. he shuffled his feet and went after Amanda.
It didn't matter if she didn't like him. He liked her. And that was all that mattered. He won't stay by the side anymore. He would be with her. No matter how hard she tries to push him away.
Amanda's boots pounded the wet pavement as she turned down her street. Her chest felt heavy, but her steps didn't falter. The streetlights cast long, thin shadows, and the quiet hum of the evening made everything feel sharper, like the world was holding its breath.
Behind her, she could hear David's footsteps slowing, uncertain. He didn't say anything—he knew better. Amanda didn't want anyone following her home, and yet the thought of him still trailing behind made the air heavier.
She reached her gate, keys in hand, and paused. Her chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths. The day—the school, Jonas, the detectives, the whispers, the confrontation—pressed down on her, and she let herself feel it for a moment. Not the fear, not the anger, just the weight.
"You don't have to follow me," she said finally, voice low, almost tired.
David stopped a few steps behind, hands in his pockets. "I… I know. I just…" He trailed off, unsure how to finish.
Amanda didn't answer. She just turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, boots wet and dripping. The door clicked shut behind her.
She leaned against it for a second, letting the wall hold her up while she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her room was quiet, familiar, safe—her own little fortress.
David was still outside, silent, unsure whether to knock or leave. Amanda finally spoke again, her voice carrying clearly through the slightly open door.
"Go home, David. Don't follow me."
There was no anger in her tone. No fear. Just finality.
He turned, hesitated for a heartbeat "See you at school tomorrow " he muttered , and walked away, his figure swallowed by the dim streetlights.
Inside, Amanda closed the door fully and leaned against it, letting the silence settle around her. Her hands were trembling slightly, but not from fear. It was the residue of the day—the tension, the rage, the disgust she carried for those who thought they could control her.
She walked to her bedroom window and looked out at the street. The shadows of the evening seemed darker now, deeper. Jonas and his friends weren't going away. David wasn't either. And the detectives… they were circling closer.
A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. Let them watch. Let them try.
Amanda sat on her bed, knees pulled up, and stared at the floor. She wasn't afraid. Not anymore.
And the storm outside had nothing on the one she carried inside her.