(Sam's POV)
It wasn't subtle anymore.
Not the letters.
Not the way I felt every time I saw her.
And definitely not the way her name hovered just beneath my breath now — like a word I wasn't ready to say out loud but couldn't unthink either.
Ruby Jane.
Quiet girl.Always with her hoodie sleeves pulled too long.Always sitting third seat from the back near the window.Always chewing the edge of her pen during announcements like she's trying to swallow her nerves.
I used to walk past her without noticing.
Now, I saw her everywhere.
The day after the third letter, I noticed how she stood near the vending machine — hesitating for three whole minutes before choosing plain water. Like even that choice felt too loud.
I noticed how she gave Becky the last bite of her lunch, even though she clearly still wanted it.
I noticed how she whispered something kind to a junior in the hallway when they dropped their books. Soft. Quick. Gone in a blink.
She didn't speak much. But she acted in lowercase tenderness.
And now, every time I caught her doing something gentle and hidden, all I could think was—
She's been doing this all along.
The thing is, I didn't know what to do with this awareness.
I wasn't ready to confront her.
But I also wasn't ready to stop reading.
The fourth letter came two days later.
I wasn't even at my locker when I found it.Becky handed it to me, confused.
"Hey," she said, "someone must've slipped this in. It was kinda half-stuck in your locker hinge."
I took it slowly, trying not to react.
"Oh… thanks," I said, casual. Too casual.
She gave me a look. "Pink envelope. Again?"
I nodded.
She didn't ask more. Just smirked a little and walked off, leaving me with the heat of suspicion and something dangerously close to hope.
This letter was shorter than the others.
But heavier somehow.
I saw you smile today.And I looked away too quickly.
I keep thinking maybe you'll catch me one day. And maybe you won't hate me for it.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I sat beside you during lunch. Just once.Would you move? Would you stay?
I think I'd panic either way.
I sat in the empty stairwell and re-read it twice.
My stomach felt like it was learning how to fall.
Not because I was scared.But because I understood that panic.
I'd felt it too — the what if I stay, what if I don't spiral.
But until now, I hadn't realized that she was feeling it at the same time.
That afternoon, I found myself walking toward the cafeteria slower than usual.
Ruby was sitting near the corner table with Felix and Becky, picking at the edge of a sandwich like her head was elsewhere.
I wanted to walk over.
Just once.
Say hey.
Sit down.
Ask what's your favorite song, or do you write other things, or was it really you?
But I didn't.
I just kept walking.
Because some part of me still wasn't ready to make it real.
Not yet.
Instead, I started watching her like I used to get watched.
Carefully. From the edges.
The way she bit her lip when she was overthinking.
The way she tucked her hair behind her ear in nervous loops, even when no one was looking.
The way her eyes flicked toward me sometimes in the hallway — fast, then away, like a guilty glance she wasn't allowed to hold.
I'd missed all of this before.
But now?
Now it was like my eyes finally adjusted.
And she was everywhere.
That night, I stared at my phone for a long time.
I didn't text Alex. Didn't scroll through anything.
Just opened my Notes app and started a new list:
RUBY
– writes like she's bleeding– notices everything– stays in the background but never stops watching– probably thinks I haven't seen her– I see her now
It felt too much.Too intimate.Too honest.
So I deleted it.
But not before rereading it three times.
The next day at practice, I missed two shots I'd normally make with my eyes closed.
Coach whistled. "Head in the game, Walker."
"Sorry," I muttered.
It wasn't about the game.
It hadn't been for a while.
After practice, I saw her again. Ruby. Leaving late from the library.
She was walking fast, hoodie pulled tight, hands clutching her bag strap like it was a lifeline.
She didn't see me.
I wondered what would happen if I called her name.
Would she turn?
Would she smile?
Would she run?
Or worse — would she pretend nothing had ever happened?
I didn't try.
But I wanted to.
[End of Chapter 13]
The mystery was unraveling. But now, I wasn't chasing the answer anymore.I was chasing the feeling.