(Sam's POV)
I hadn't looked at Ruby Jane the same way since that day near the locker.
I'd seen her slip the pink envelope in like she was returning a library book she wasn't supposed to borrow. Head down. Shoulders tight. Fingers trembling just enough to make my heart stutter.
And ever since then, I couldn't stop seeing her.
It wasn't just about the letters anymore.It was how my body reacted before my brain caught up.
Like when I saw her walking down the corridor — my chest did this little panic-flip, like it didn't get the memo we weren't ready for this.
Or when I caught her laugh at something Felix said — and it was this short, surprised sound, like she didn't mean for it to escape.
It wasn't just a guess anymore.
It was her.
I knew it in my bones.
The scary part?
Knowing didn't calm me down.It made everything louder.
Alex tossed his gym bag into the grass beside mine and cracked open a juice box like a twelve-year-old. "You're staring at your locker again," he said.
"No, I'm not."
"You're standing in front of it with your arms crossed, whispering something to yourself."
"I'm thinking."
"You're muttering like you're trying to hex it."
I sighed. "I'm just… processing."
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You've been processing for like a week. Maybe just talk to whoever's writing these things. Mystery Pen Pal is clearly not going away."
I didn't answer.
He tilted his head. "You don't want to talk to them?"
I shook my head. "I don't know if I'm ready."
"Ready for what?"
I didn't say it out loud.I didn't tell him that maybe I wasn't just afraid of the who.Maybe I was afraid of the what.
Because deep down, I was starting to realize something—
If it really is Ruby… I don't think I'd be disappointed.
And that terrified me more than anything.
After practice, I left my hoodie in my locker and wandered toward the back stairwell — the one that smelled like old mop water and was always slightly colder than the rest of the building.
I didn't have a reason to go there.
But she was there.
Alone. Leaning against the railing, earphones in, scribbling in a small spiral notebook.
I didn't mean to stop.
But I did.
She didn't see me at first. Just sat cross-legged on the steps, head tilted, writing something like it hurt to hold it in.
I should've walked away.
But I took a step forward instead — and dropped my water bottle straight out of my hand.
The clatter echoed like a fire alarm.
She flinched. Looked up.
We made eye contact.
For the first time — not in passing. Not from a distance. Real eye contact.
She blinked like she was trying to remember how to be a person.
Then — quietly, cautiously — she stood and picked up my bottle.
I stepped forward to take it, and for half a second, our fingers brushed.
She looked at me.
And I swear, in that single glance, I could feel the letters.
"Thanks," I said. My voice came out softer than I intended.
She nodded. Didn't speak.
Didn't run either.
She looked like she was caught between fight, flight, and fold in on myself until I disappear.
"I've seen you around," I added, trying not to make it weird.
Stupid thing to say. Of course I'd seen her around. Everyone had.
But she just nodded again.
Still not speaking.
Something about the silence didn't feel awkward.
It felt... real.
Like a breath we'd both been holding too long.
I wanted to say something else.Ask something.Do something.
But I froze.
And she did too.
Then — like a switch — she stuffed the notebook into her bag, gave me a small nod, and walked past.
Not fast.
Just… carefully.
Like she didn't want to disturb the moment by moving too loud.
I stayed standing on the step for a long time after she left.
The water bottle still in my hand.My chest still doing that dumb fluttery thing.
That night, I lay in bed, wide awake, letter under my pillow.
The words were starting to blur now.I'd read them too many times.
But I wasn't reading for the words anymore.
I was reading for the voice behind them.
And that voice…?
I was starting to crave it.
[End of Chapter 14]
Maybe I wasn't afraid that it was Ruby. Maybe I was afraid of what that meant for me.