When I reached school, I could already feel eyes on me. Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe word had spread. In small towns, it always does.
I walked faster, clutching my bag close to my chest, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor.
In class, I sat by the window with the same seat as always and pretended to care about whatever the teacher was saying. But every word slid right past me.
The air was too heavy.My chest hurt too much.
Halfway through the first period, the door opened.
He walked in.
Aiden.
The moment his name echoed in my mind, my heart stumbled.
He looked the same crisp uniform, steady walk, that calm confidence that made everyone's eyes follow him. But to me, he looked like someone I'd lost and somehow still loved.
He didn't look my way.Not once.
He took his seat two rows ahead, dropped his bag quietly, and opened his notebook. His hand moved, writing something I couldn't see.
And I just stared.
For a moment, I almost convinced myself yesterday hadn't happened. That maybe I'd dreamed it. That maybe he'd turn around, look at me, and smile like he used to like I still mattered.
But he didn't.
The silence between us was louder than any sound I'd ever known.
When the bell rang for lunch,
By the time lunch break came, I had almost convinced myself I was fine.Almost.
The morning had passed in a blur the teacher's words melted into a soft, distant hum, my pen moved without thought, and every time I looked out the window, I hoped I wouldn't see him.
But fate doesn't care what you hope for.
When the bell rang, the hallways filled with laughter and footsteps. My friends, Maren and Livia, waved at me from the canteen door. "Come on, Elara! You look like a ghost!"
I forced a smile, small and fragile. "I'm coming."
We sat by the window, our usual spot sunlight spilling across the table, the smell of warm bread drifting through the air. I tried to laugh when Maren told a joke, tried to eat, tried to be normal.
And for a few minutes, I was.
Until I heard it.
That laugh.
His laugh.
Soft, familiar, effortless. The kind that used to make everything in me light up.
My fingers froze around the glass of water. Slowly, I turned my head — and there he was.
Aiden.
Sitting just a few tables away.His head was tilted slightly, his smile bright, his eyes full of warmth.
But it wasn't for me.
It was for her.
A girl I'd never seen before. She had honey-brown hair and a voice that carried easily over the noise. She was laughing no, shining as if the world belonged to her. And Aiden was looking at her like she was the only thing that existed.
The way he used to look at me.
Something inside me cracked.
I leaned closer to Maren, trying to sound casual. "Who's ...who's that girl with Aiden?"
Maren glanced over, then back at me. "Oh, her? That's Isla. Aiden's best friend. They've been hanging out a lot lately."
Best friend.
The words felt like broken glass in my chest.
I nodded, but my hand was trembling. The glass of water in my grip slipped slightly, the rim hitting the table with a sharp sound. Maren looked up. "Elara? Are you okay?"
I wasn't.I wasn't okay at all.
The next moment, the glass shattered a clean, sudden break that sent shards flying across the table.
A thin line of red bloomed across my palm.
"Oh my god, Elara!" Maren gasped, rushing to grab napkins. "You're bleeding!"
I stared at the blood, bright and alive against my pale skin. For a heartbeat, I didn't even feel the pain. It was like my body had gone numb before my heart could.
"It's fine," I whispered, but my voice shook.
"No, it's not," Maren said firmly. "Come on. You need to see the nurse."
I let her lead me out of the cafeteria, away from the noise, away from them.I didn't look back, but I could still feel Aiden's presence behind me and the sound of his laughter, echoing in my ears like a cruel reminder.
The nurse was kind, her voice calm as she dabbed antiseptic on my hand. "That must've hurt," she murmured.
I wanted to say, not as much as he did.
Instead, I just stared at the window while she worked, the sting of alcohol grounding me in a world that suddenly felt too sharp.
When she wrapped the bandage around my palm, it almost looked like a secret I couldn't hide a small, silent proof of how easily something can break.
"You should rest a bit before heading back," she said softly.
I nodded and murmured, "Thank you."
But I didn't rest. I couldn't.
I sat there in the quiet room, tracing the edge of the bandage with my thumb. Each heartbeat echoed through the cut, through my chest, through every part of me that still refused to stop caring.
When I finally walked back to class, the halls were empty. Lunch was almost over.The noise had faded but the silence was worse.
The day crawled by.Teachers spoke, pages turned, laughter filled the air again but I heard none of it.
When the bell rang, I didn't wait for Maren or Livia. I just walked out.
The sky was fading to a soft gold as I stepped through the gates, the air cool and quiet. My bandaged hand stung when I brushed it against my skirt. It felt like the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
I was halfway down the street when I heard someone call my name.
"Elara!"
I turned, startled.It was Ethan the boy who sat two rows behind me in class. The one who always had ink on his fingers and a soft smile.
He jogged up to me, slightly out of breath. "You're walking alone again."
I nodded. "I like walking."
He grinned. "No, you don't. You look like you're trying to disappear."
I almost laughed almost. "Maybe I am."
He looked at the bandage on my hand and frowned. "What happened?"
"Glass broke," I said simply.
He nodded slowly, not asking for more. "Well, then you shouldn't walk alone. Come on, I'll walk with you."
I opened my mouth to refuse, but he was already matching his steps with mine. For a few minutes, we just walked in silence. The sound of our shoes against the pavement was oddly comforting.
Then he started talking about class, about how awful the cafeteria food was, about a stray cat he'd been feeding near the library. His voice was light, easy, almost musical.
I found myself smiling.A real, small smile.
When he cracked another joke, I laughed. It surprised me the sound of my own laughter after so long.
For the first time that day, the ache in my chest softened just a little.
And as the wind brushed against my face and the city lights began to flicker awake, I realized something.
Silence doesn't last forever.Sometimes, even after the loudest heartbreak, life finds a way to hum again quietly, gently, through the cracks.