CHAPTER FOUR — PATTERNS DON’T LIE

I don’t mean to start watching him. That’s the part I tell myself matters. It’s not intentional. It’s not obsessive. It’s just… noticing. The same way I notice a pitcher’s tells. The way their wrist angles just slightly before a curve. The way their stance shifts when they’re nervous. Patterns. That’s all this is. Except…

It doesn’t feel like just that. By Monday morning, I already knew something’s changed. Not in a dramatic, everything-is-different kind of way. In a quiet way. The kind you only catch if you’re paying attention. And now… I am.

I’m at my locker, switching out books, when I feel it again. That awareness. Not heavy like the field. Not sharp like Lila’s room. Just… present. I don’t turn right away. I don’t need to. Instead, I count. One. Two. Three… I glance up. Kade Mercer is walking down the hallway. Right on time. My stomach tightens slightly. Because that’s new. Not him walking down the hallway. The timing. He passes this exact stretch between classes. Every day. At the same minute. And the same pace. Same expression. Like clockwork. I didn’t notice before. Or maybe I did… and I ignored it. He doesn’t look at me. Not directly. But I feel it anyway. Like something brushes the edge of my focus as he passes. Then he’s gone. And the feeling fades with him. I stare after him for a second too long. “Okay,” Lila says, appearing out of nowhere, “you are definitely staring now.” I snap my locker shut. “I am not.” “You are,” she insists. “And it’s getting worse.” “I’m observing.” She blinks. “That’s worse.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that.” “Then what is it like?” I hesitated. Because I don’t have a clean answer. “I think he has a routine,” I say finally. Lila frowns. “What?” “Kade,” I clarify. “He moves the same way. Same times. Same places.”

She stares at me like I just said something completely unhinged. “…You’re tracking my brother’s schedule?” I wince slightly. “That sounds worse when you say it like that.” “Because it is worse.” I shake my head. “No, listen. It’s not random. He’s… deliberate.” Lila crosses her arms. “He’s always been like that.” “Not like this.” She studies me for a second. Then her expression softens slightly. “You’re serious.” “I am.” She exhales. “Okay. Then why?” “I don’t know yet.” That’s the part I hate. Not knowing.

By lunch, I’ve confirmed three things. One: Kade always sits at the same table. Not with friends. Not with a group. Just at the far end of the cafeteria, where he can see everything without being in the middle of it. Two: He doesn’t eat much. A drink. Something small. Enough to look normal. Not enough to be distracted. Three… He watches exits. Not constantly.

Not obviously. But enough. Like he’s tracking movement. Like he’s waiting for something. Or making sure he sees it first. I shouldn’t be paying this much attention. I know that. But I can’t stop. Because the more I notice… The more it feels like I’m catching up to something he already understands. “Hope.” I blink. Lila is sitting across from me, waving a fry in front of my face. “You’ve been staring at the same corner for, like, five minutes.” I glance down. “Sorry.” “Don’t apologize,” she says. “Explain.” I hesitate. Then nod slightly toward the far end of the cafeteria. “Look at him.” Lila turns. Her eyes land on Kade. Then she sighs. “Okay, yeah, he’s sitting.” “Watch him.” She squints slightly. “He’s… still sitting.”

“Not that,” I say. “The way he’s positioned.” She looks again. Longer this time. Then… Her expression shifts. Slightly. “He’s facing the doors,” she says. “Yes.” “And the side exit.” “Yes.” “And…” She pauses. “He keeps checking the hallway.” I nod once. Lila leans back slowly. “Okay… that’s a little weird.” “A little?” I repeat. “Okay, fine, that’s very weird.” I exhale quietly. “See what I mean?” She glances back at him again.

Then back at me. “You think he’s doing it on purpose?” “Yes.” “Why?” “I don’t know.” That answer again. Lila taps her fingers against the table. “Maybe he’s just… paranoid?” “No,” I said immediately. She raises an eyebrow. “You sound very sure for someone who ‘doesn’t know.’” I hesitate. Because she’s right. “I don’t know why he’s doing it,” I clarify. “But I know it’s not random.”

Lila studies me for a second. Then glances back at her brother. Then back at me. “Okay,” she says slowly. “I officially don’t like this.” “Yeah,” I mutter. “Me neither.” After school, I test it. Not intentionally. That’s what I tell myself. But I linger by the exit. Just long enough to see. And sure enough.. There he is.

Leaning against the wall across the street. Same position as the fence. Same stillness. Same awareness. Waiting.

For what? For who? My chest tightens slightly. Because this one… This one I can’t pretend is a coincidence. I step outside. The air feels different again. Not heavy. Just… charged.

Like before something happens. Kade’s gaze lifts immediately. Find mine. Locks. Like he knew exactly when I’d walk out.

My pulse picks up. I walk toward him. Slow. Controlled. Every step is measured. Like I’m approaching something that could shift if I move too fast. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He just watches .

Always watching. I stop a few feet away. “Do you always wait here?” I ask. No greeting. No lead-in. Just the question. His head tilts slightly. “Do you always notice?” he counters. I cross my arms. “Answer the question.” A pause.

Then… “Yes.” My breath catches slightly. “Why?” Another pause. Longer this time. Like he’s deciding how much to say. “Because this is where things change,” he says. A chill runs down my spine. “That doesn’t mean anything.” “It will.” I shake my head slightly. “You keep saying things like that.” “And you keep asking.” “That’s because you’re not giving real answers.” His gaze sharpens slightly. “Maybe you’re not ready for them.” That hits harder than it should. “I’m ready,” I say. “Then stop pretending you don’t see it.” Silence. Because…. I do see it. The patterns. The shifts.

The way things feel slightly out of place.

I just don’t understand them yet. “What do you want from me?” I ask quietly. His expression changes. Not softer. Not harsher. Just… clearer. “I want you to pay attention,” he says. “I am paying attention.” “Not enough.” Frustration sparks in my chest. “Then tell me what I’m missing.” He steps closer. Not much.

Just enough to close the distance. “You’re looking at the patterns,” he says. My pulse jumps. “Yes.” “But you’re not asking why they’re there.” I frown. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” “No,” he says quietly. “You’re asking what they mean.” I open my mouth…. Pause. Because that’s… Not the same thing. The air shifts again. Subtle. But there. I feel it. Kade notices too. Of course he does. His gaze flicks past me for half a second. Then back. “Something’s coming,” he says. My stomach drops. “What does that mean?” “It means….” The world tilts. Just for a second. Just enough. My breath catches. “Did you…” I start.

“Yes.” His voice is sharper now. More alert. More certain. I look around. Everything looks normal. But it doesn’t feel normal. It feels like something just moved beneath the surface. Like a ripple I can’t see. I look back at him. “What was that?” Kade holds my gaze. And for the first time… There’s no hesitation. “No more waiting,” he says. My pulse spikes. “For what?” He steps back slightly. Like he’s bracing. “For you to catch up.” The air shifts again. Stronger this time. And suddenly… I understand something I didn’t before. This isn’t just about him watching me. Or me noticing him. This is something bigger. Something already in motion. And I’m not stepping into it anymore. I’m already in it.