Chapter 5

Beckett

The next morning should feel normal.

That’s what I tell myself as I walk through the front doors of school.

Yesterday was one weird conversation.

One argument.

One moment.

That’s it.

People have arguments every day. It shouldn’t still be sitting in the back of my mind twenty-four hours later.

It definitely shouldn’t be the first thing I think about when I walk into the building.

And yet the first person I notice is Ella James.

She’s standing at her locker halfway down the hall, trying to balance three textbooks while working the combination lock. Nothing about her looks different. The same oversized sweater hangs past her wrists. Her dark hair falls forward, partly hiding her face. She looks exactly like she did last week.

Exactly like she did last month.

Exactly like she has for years.

But for some reason, I can’t stop looking.

“Yo.”

Sean bumps my shoulder.

“You good?”

I drag my attention away from Ella.

“Yeah.”

He gives me a look that says he doesn’t believe me.

Unfortunately, he’s probably right.

We start walking down the hallway with the rest of the guys. Around us, the school is waking up. Lockers slam. Someone shouts from across the hall. A couple freshmen nearly run into each other because neither of them is paying attention.

Normal.

Everything looks normal.

Except my brain keeps drifting back to yesterday.

To the way Ella looked standing in front of me.

To the way she didn’t back down.

To the way she looked disappointed when I stood there and did nothing.

That part bothers me more than I want it to.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

I didn’t do anything.

I never do.

For years, I’ve convinced myself that’s different from being involved.

I don’t throw the spitballs.

I don’t start most of the jokes.

I don’t go out of my way to make her life miserable.

But standing there while everyone else does?

That’s not exactly innocent either.

I know that.

I just don’t like thinking about it.

Ahead of us, Ella closes her locker.

She adjusts her backpack and takes a breath.

A small breath.

Most people wouldn’t notice it.

I do.

And suddenly I understand what felt different yesterday.

It’s not her appearance.

It’s not her clothes.

It’s not even her attitude.

It’s that she’s expecting something now.

Bracing for it.

Like she’s already waiting for the first insult of the day.

Something about that realization settles heavily in my chest.

“Hey, James!”

I close my eyes.

Sean.

Of course.

The guys around us laugh automatically.

Not because the joke is funny.

Because this routine is familiar.

Everybody knows their role.

Sean says something stupid.

Ella gets embarrassed.

People laugh.

The day continues.

That’s how it’s always worked.

That’s how I’ve allowed it to work.

Ella stops walking.

For a second, I think she’s going to ignore him.

Part of me hopes she does.

Not because it’s fair.

Because it’s easier.

Then she turns around.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

And looks right at us.

Not at the floor.

Not at the lockers.

At us.

At him.

At me.

“This again?”

Her voice isn’t loud.

That’s what makes it interesting.

She sounds annoyed.

Like she’s already tired of the conversation before it’s started.

Like Sean is inconveniencing her instead of intimidating her.

A few students nearby glance over.

Sean grins.

“Oh, she talks now.”

Normally that would’ve gotten a bigger reaction.

Today it doesn’t.

People are watching.

Waiting.

Trying to figure out what happens next.

“So that’s your thing?” Ella asks.

Sean frowns slightly.

“What?”

She shrugs.

“Repeating the same three jokes over and over until someone laughs?”

A surprised laugh comes from somewhere behind me.

Sean’s grin slips.

Only for a second.

But I see it.

Ella sees it too.

Interesting.

For years, she’s been the one reacting.

Now she’s making him react.

“Careful, James,” Sean says. “You’re starting to sound confident.”

Ella tilts her head.

“No.”

The corner of her mouth lifts slightly.

“I’m starting to sound bored.”

This time the laughter is louder.

Not from everyone.

Not even from most people.

But enough.

Enough that Sean notices.

Enough that I notice.

And suddenly the dynamic shifts.

Just a little.

For years, everybody expected Ella to play a certain role.

The quiet girl.

The easy target.

The one who never pushes back.

Today she refuses.

And nobody knows what to do with that.

Including me.

Sean takes a step forward.

Not threatening.

Not exactly.

But testing.

Trying to get control of the moment back.

The hallway seems to tighten around us.

Students slow down.

People stop pretending they aren’t watching.

Everybody loves a spectacle.

Especially when it involves someone breaking character.

“You getting brave now?” Sean asks.

The question hangs there.

Waiting.

I could stop this.

The thought hits me immediately.

One sentence.

That’s all it would take.

Leave it alone, Sean.

Done.

Over.

Instead, I stand there.

Exactly where I’ve always stood.

Not helping.

Not participating.

Not stopping it.

The safe position.

The coward’s position.

Ella’s eyes find mine.

Just for a second.

But it’s enough.

Because I see recognition there.

Not surprise.

Not hope.

Not disappointment.

Recognition.

Like she already knows exactly what choice I’m going to make.

Like she never expected anything different.

That shouldn’t bother me.

It does.

A lot.

“You done?” she asks, looking back at Sean.

Her voice is steady.

Calm.

Completely under control.

“Or do you need another minute?”

A few people laugh.

This time they’re definitely laughing at Sean.

His expression tightens.

For the first time all morning, he looks uncomfortable.

Good.

The thought comes so fast it catches me off guard.

Good.

Sean looks around, realizes the crowd isn’t completely on his side anymore, and immediately loses interest.

“Whatever.”

He waves a hand dismissively.

“Not worth it.”

And just like that, it’s over.

No dramatic ending.

No shouting.

No scene.

Ella doesn’t celebrate.

Doesn’t smile.

Doesn’t even look satisfied.

She simply turns around and walks away.

Calm.

Unhurried.

Like none of us matter enough to ruin her day.

I watch her go.

I shouldn’t.

But I do.

Because something keeps nagging at me.

For years, I thought Ella was quiet because that was who she was.

Now I’m starting to wonder if she was quiet because nobody ever gave her a reason not to be.

“Yo.”

Sean nudges my shoulder.

“You were weirdly quiet.”

I tear my gaze away.

“So were you.”

He scoffs.

“Please. I let her have that.”

I almost laugh.

Not because it’s funny.

Because it’s complete bullshit.

He knows it.

I know it.

The reason he backed off wasn’t because he let her win.

It’s because she didn’t lose.

And suddenly those aren’t the same thing.

The bell rings overhead.

The crowd begins moving again.

Conversations restart.

People continue with their day.

The moment disappears for everyone else.

But not for me.

Because one thought follows me all the way to first period.

I could’ve stopped it.

Not just today.

Any day.

Last week.

Last year.

The hundred other times it happened.

I could’ve said something.

Done something.

Been better than this.

And I didn’t.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t like what that says about me.

What’s worse?

I think Ella figured that out long before I did.