It was Wednesday, but it felt like a Friday.
The school was alive with chatter—no tests, no surprise quizzes, and the senior prefects were off at a leadership retreat. That meant one thing: freedom. Students were buzzing around during break, gathering under trees and along walkways, laughter bubbling up in different patches across the school grounds.
Scarlet leaned against the half-wall outside their classroom, sipping from a cold sachet of water. She was scanning the school lawn, almost instinctively looking for someone.
At first, she didn't see him.
But then, there he was.
Rudd stood a little ways off, near the tap, re-tying his tie after washing his hands. All alone. Focused. Withdrawn as usual. But when he turned slightly, their eyes met for just a moment.
He looked away first.
Scarlet sighed.
They hadn't really talked since the chemistry practical. Not in a meaningful way, anyway. Rudd had retreated back into silence, more distant than ever. And she was starting to realize something odd: sometimes, it wasn't anger or hate that kept people apart, but more like hesitation.
But the day was still young.
Then, suddenly, the last two periods were canceled out of nowhere—something about the Civic teacher being pulled into admin duty and the Biology teacher being sick. Honestly, it felt like a gift. The class broke into loud clusters right away: card players, chit-chat circles, sleepyheads, and the "phone crew" sneaking their devices like it was a crime.
Scarlet tried to focus on a novel she'd borrowed from Sandra, but she kept getting sidetracked by whispers and glances.
One group really stood out today.
Dapo had kicked off an impromptu trivia game by the window. A crowd was forming. His voice rang out clearly across the room—confident, playful, magnetic. He'd quickly become the guy everyone liked—loud but fun, funny without being annoying.
Scarlet caught his eye just as he gave her a mock salute
She shook her head with a smile
It was annoying how charming he could be.
But what she didn't realize—what she couldn't see—was Rudd, sitting three rows back, pen frozen in mid-air, pretending to ignore it all. Putting in too much effort to look like he wasn't paying attention
The bell rang for prep, and students shuffled out slowly, some acting like they didn't even hear it. Scarlet hung back, packing her books, when Kiki slid over next to her.
"You know he likes you, right?
Scarlet blinked. "Who?
Kiki raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"
Scarlet didn't reply. Kiki grinned.
"Look, I'm not saying you should pick, but maybe don't take too long. Before things get complicated."
"I'm not picking anyone," Scarlet muttered.
"That's what they all say."
Kiki twirled away dramatically.
That evening, prep felt odd.
Rudd wasn't sitting in his usual spot. His chair was empty. His bag, untouched. Scarlet tried not to notice. But of course, she noticed.
It wasn't until lights-out that she overheard the whispers about what had gone down.
"I heard he fought Gabriel," someone said in the hostel corridor.
"He didn't fight back," another one corrected. "Gab cornered him. He didn't even fight."
Scarlet froze.
Rudd?
The next morning, it was confirmed. Rudd's lip was split, and his collar was slightly torn. But he walked into class as if nothing had happened. Sat down. Took out his notes.
Silence.
Scarlet didn't wait.
She dropped her pen and stood up.
Everyone's eyes followed her as she walked across the classroom and stopped next to Rudd.
"You're not going to tell anyone?" she asked—not too loud, but loud enough.
He looked up. There was a weariness in his expression, not defeated, just... done.
"There's no point," he said.
"Gab beat you up, and you think there's no point?"
His gaze flicked toward the class. Some were still pretending not to pay attention, while others were clearly watching.
"Keep your voice down," he murmured.
"No."
It came out sharper than she intended.
Scarlet took a step back, arms crossed. "You can't keep letting people treat you like this. You're not invisible, Rudd."
He finally looked at her—really looked. A mix of hurt and something else—maybe anger, maybe pride.
"I never asked to be seen," he said quietly.
Scarlet stood there for a moment longer before turning back to her seat.
She didn't know it then, but her words would linger with him for days.
Gab didn't show up the next day.
Rumors spread that the school was investigating the fight. No one knew who reported it. Some said it was a teacher who overheard. Others pointed fingers at a senior who had it out for Gab.
Either way, the senior block felt... quieter.
But the school wasn't the only place where tension was building.
That night, Scarlet had a heated argument with her sister on the phone. It was quick and sharp—about money, of all things. Their parents were at it again, and her sister had called to vent but ended up snapping at Scarlet for "not doing enough."
Scarlet cried silently that night, facing the wall.
She didn't tell anyone.
Not even Amara.
Rudd didn't talk to anyone for two days
Until Scarlet found a folded note in her locker during break.
It wasn't signed, but the handwriting was unmistakable.
"Sometimes people disappear, not because they want to. But because they're tired of being chased only when they're fading."
She held onto the note for a long while.
And that evening, as the rain started again—soft and steady—she sat at her desk, staring out at the storm.
Rudd didn't draw that night.
But he looked at her twice.
And this time, she didn't look away.