(Sam's POV)
The third letter never showed up.
Not on Monday.Not on Tuesday.Not even by Wednesday, when I checked my locker three times like some obsessed idiot with a secret subscription.
Nothing.
Not even a hint of pink.
Just empty books, a half-dead pen, and that familiar hollow feeling I hadn't noticed before the letters ever arrived.
So I did something I'm not proud of.
I set a trap.
Not some dramatic, villain-in-a-lair situation. No lasers. No cameras. No glitter bombs.
Just… me.
Lingering.
I timed it perfectly.Last week, the second letter had been dropped between third and fourth period. That was the only real clue I had.
So I stayed near my locker after third. Pretended to search for something. Moved slowly. Opened and closed the zip on my bag like I was missing something important.
People passed by. A few waved. One guy asked if I had a spare pen. I didn't.
No one suspicious. No pink envelopes.
I gave it ten minutes. Then left.
Nothing.
I tried again the next day.
This time, I went full silent-mode.
I ducked into the hallway two minutes early. Slipped between rows of lockers, found a spot around the corner — just enough space to peek and stay hidden behind the announcement board.
It was stupid.It was extra.It was also the most invested I'd been in anything this week.
And then, it happened.
Light footsteps.Soft shuffle.The sound of fingers brushing cold metal.
I held my breath.
Ruby Jane.
She was looking over her shoulder. Casual, but too casual. Like someone trying not to look suspicious.
She reached into her hoodie pocket.
Pulled out something pink.
Tiny. Folded.
No. Freaking. Way.
My heart started racing.
It wasn't confirmation yet.Could've been anything. A note for someone else. A piece of gum in origami. I mean, sure, she was literally near my locker, holding a pink square the exact size of the first two letters but—
Okay. It was definitely a letter.
She slid it halfway into the slat of locker 212.
Mine.
Then paused.
Looked around again.
Our eyes almost met.
Almost.
She didn't see me. I ducked just in time, heart hammering like I was committing a crime.
When I peeked again, she was gone.Vanished around the corner.
No witnesses.
I waited another full minute before walking back to my locker.
There it was.
Tucked in, perfect and soft and unmistakable.
Pink envelope. Again.
My fingers shook as I pulled it out.
It felt warmer this time. Not literally — maybe just from how much I wanted it. Maybe from how much I now knew.
I didn't read it yet.
Not there.
Not in the hallway.
I needed to sit. To breathe.
To pretend I wasn't unraveling.
I ended up in the girls' bathroom, third floor.The one no one used because the light flickered and one of the faucets screeched.
It was quiet.
I locked the stall and sat on the lid of the toilet, envelope in hand like it was something holy.
Opened it slowly.
I wasn't going to write again.I told myself two was enough.That I was lucky you hadn't thrown them away.That anything more would be selfish.
But then I saw you pause at your locker.Like you were hoping for something.
And for a second, I thought — maybe you're waiting for me.
I know you're not.But hope is a reckless thing.
I don't expect anything back.But if you're still reading these, just know… I'm scared too.
Yours, still hiding.
By the time I finished reading, I couldn't feel my fingers.
Not from cold.
From the weight of it.
It was her.
It had to be.
Ruby.
Quiet. Barely-spoken. Always-there-but-never-loud Ruby.
She was writing these. To me.
And suddenly, everything felt louder — the echo of her boots in the hallway, the way she fiddled with her pen cap in class, the way she looked like she wanted to vanish every time someone raised their voice.
She had been watching me.
But not in a creepy way.
In a careful way.
In the way you watch someone who doesn't know they're loved.
I stared at the line again:
Maybe you're waiting for me.
I was.
I didn't know it until now.
But I had been.
Later that day, I passed Ruby in the stairwell.
She was walking with Becky, laughing at something Felix said. Her shoulders were tense, like always. But her face—her face held something else.
Like she was bracing for a storm she'd created.
She didn't look at me.
But for the first time, I looked at her.
Really looked.
And I wondered how I'd missed her all this time.
[End of Chapter 12]
I set the trap. She walked right into it. But somehow… I was the one caught.