06

Missy's point of View

The restaurant was warm dim lights, soft music, chatter bouncing off brick walls. But Missy felt cold.

Not because of the air.

Because of the eyes.

All of them.

Every single one of Alexander’s friends Nico, Enzo, Marco, and another she hadn’t met yet turned their heads the moment she walked in behind him.

She felt like a baby deer in a room full of wolves.

And Alexander? He just kept walking like he didn’t care, like he didn’t notice the tension swirling around them.

But she noticed.

She noticed the way Nico’s brows rose slightly, like really? She’s here again?

She noticed how Enzo rolled a toothpick between his fingers, watching her like she was a riddle.

She noticed the new guy tall, with a silver ring in his lip and hair that flopped over one eye ,eye her like he couldn’t decide if she was sweet or stupid.

She looked down at her hands.

“Sit,” Alexander said softly, and pulled out the chair beside his.

She hesitated. Only for a second.

Then sat.

No one said anything for a long, long moment.

Until Nico leaned forward, lips twitching. “Sunshine, huh?”

Missy blinked. “What?”

“That’s what he calls you?” Nico tilted his head toward Alexander.

She turned to Alexander, then back at Nico. “Um… I guess?”

The boys chuckled. Quietly. Like they couldn’t believe it.

Alexander didn’t laugh. He just placed his hand on the back of her chair barely touching it, barely touching her, but it felt like a claim.

Missy tried not to fidget.

Tried not to melt.

Enzo leaned forward, looking at her directly this time. “You always follow strangers into restaurants?”

Missy blinked. “Only if they have really intense eyes and scary tattoos.”

The boys froze.

Then Nico burst out laughing, slapping the table once.

Alexander tilted his head slowly, and for the first time since they walked in… he smiled.

A real one.

Missy caught it and smiled too. Just a little.

Then a plate was set in front of her, and she nearly jumped. She hadn’t even realized someone ordered for her.

“Chicken tenders,” Alexander said, voice calm. “And fries. You like simple.”

She blinked at him.

“...How did you know that?”

“You looked overwhelmed by the menu yesterday.”

“Oh.”

She stared at the plate, her heart doing that flippy thing again. No one had ever… paid attention like that.

The boys were still watching.

But she didn’t care as much now.

Because Alexander saw her.

And for once, that was enough.

She took another bite of the chicken tender, chewing slowly like it might help her nerves.

The fries were warm and crispy, but she barely tasted them. The silence was too loud.

Then Enzo leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing playfully.

“So, Sunshine,” he said, “why don’t you tell us something about yourself?”

Missy froze with her cup halfway to her lips.

Her eyes darted toward Nico, who was already watching her with a little crease between his brows.

“She doesn’t have to,” Nico said before she could respond, his voice low, but sharp.

Missy blinked. He sounded… protective. And he looked genuinely annoyed.

Enzo raised both hands in surrender. “Chill, man. I’m not asking for her credit card number.”

“You guys act like I wanna hurt her or something,” he added, mumbling the last part with a shrug.

Alexander said nothing, but his fingers tapped the table once. Once was enough.

Missy set her cup down carefully. Her fingers were a little shaky, but her voice was soft and brave.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I… I can answer.”

Everyone looked at her.

“My name is Missy,” she said, twisting her fingers under the table. “I’m nineteen. I love drawing and singing a lot. I don’t… have a boyfriend.”

She paused, as if expecting someone to laugh or scoff or roll their eyes.

No one did.

Even Enzo stayed quiet now.

“I live with my mom,” she finished. “Yeah. That’s… that’s it, I guess.”

Silence again.

Until the boy with the lip ring who hadn’t said a word until now leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Can you sing?” he asked quietly.

Missy looked up, startled.

“I mean,” he said, “you said you love singing. Just wondering if you’re good.”

Her cheeks burned.

“I—I don’t know. I think I’m okay,” she mumbled.

“She’s probably amazing,” her roommate said suddenly, sliding into the seat next to her out of nowhere.

“Missy can make a love song out of a phone ringtone.”

The table chuckled softly.

Missy looked up and gave a shy smile.

Alexander, though, hadn’t moved.

He was still staring at her not with judgment or even amusement but something quiet. Something unreadable.

Like he was listening, even when she wasn’t talking.

The table had finally relaxed.

Laughter mixed with the smell of fries and the low hum of conversations. Even Missy had smiled a few times genuine, bashful, small.

Sienna leaned in close, nudging her shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered, grinning. “We have Intro to Creative Arts together tomorrow. 8 AM. You better not ditch me.”

Missy laughed softly. “I won’t. I love that class.”

“And,” her roommate dragged the word out dramatically, “there’s a party tomorrow night. You’re coming with me.”

Missy blinked. “Party?”

“Yeah, like college parties, booze, bad decisions, mystery stains on the walls classic experience.” She said it like it was supposed to be exciting.

Missy felt her stomach twist.

From across the table, Nico added casually, “Everyone’s going. It’s at Ryder’s place.”

The boy with the lip ring the quiet one lifted his brow. “Big crowd. Loud music. Bad DJ.”

“Sounds fun,” Enzo muttered, already checking his phone.

Even Alexander leaned back slightly, arms crossed, like he had already claimed his corner of the party.

Missy shook her head once. Her hands were suddenly cold again.

The word party didn’t mean what it meant for them.

In her head, it meant something else.

Loud music blended with screams.

People running.

Her brother’s voice yelling at her “Run, Missy! Run far away!”

Gunshots.

The burn of gravel under her knees.

Blood.

She blinked fast.

“No thanks,” Missy said quickly, her voice a little too high.

She stood up before anyone could ask questions. Leaned over and kissed Sienna on the cheek.

“Have fun, guys,” she called out with a faint smile, backing away before they saw her tremble.

The bell above the restaurant door jingled as she stepped outside into the dark, cool air.

She didn’t run.

But she wanted to.

Because deep down, she could still hear the echo of that night.

And she wasn’t ready to dance with ghosts.

I feel like they hate me now.

That was the only thought echoing in her mind as she sat on the chair near her dorm window.

Her arms were wrapped around her knees, chin resting on them. Outside, birds flew past in pairs, so free, so weightless. Unlike her.

This is the second time I’ve walked out of that restaurant like that, she thought bitterly.

She reached for her phone without thinking.

The screen lit up with a soft glow, revealing the lock screen she never changed.

A photo of her twin brother smiling, goofy, holding a milkshake in one hand and throwing up peace signs with the other.

Missy stared at it, her throat tightening.

He died because of her father.

Because of the life their dad refused to leave.

Because of the world she was still running from.

Her mom had packed everything in one night and brought her here to this state, this college, this fake new life.

Pretending they were normal.

Pretending ghosts didn’t follow them.

Her fingers grazed the edge of the photo.

Good thing I know how to shoot.

And fight a bit, she thought.

Her brother made sure of that.

Before he.

She didn’t finish the thought.

Instead, she blinked fast and turned her face toward the window again, watching the clouds drift slowly in the evening light.

Then another thought slipped in uninvited but oddly calming.

Why was Alexander so chill around me?

He didn’t say much.

He stared too much.

But it wasn’t the kind of staring that made her skin crawl.

It was intense, but quiet.

Sharp, but not threatening.

He looked at her like he knew something. Like he recognized something in her.

Still.

He was fine though.

She smiled at that, a small, warm curve of her lips as she leaned her cheek against the windowpane.

With a soft sigh, she finally pushed herself away from the chair and padded over to her bed.

The room was quiet, save for the faint sounds of dorm chatter in the hallway.

She pulled her worn book from under the pillow one she always read when her head felt too loud.

It smelled like old pages and safety.

Climbing into bed, she flipped it open and whispered to herself, “Just read ‘til I fall asleep.”

Because for now, books were safer than boys.

Even boys with deep voices and eyes that watched like they’d already memorized her.