ANMELDENDerek’s POVThere is a specific kind of silence that doesn’t behave like silence at all, the kind that lingers in the air like it has something to prove, stretching itself into moments that used to feel easy and now feel like walking through something invisible but heavy, and I would genuinely prefer being yelled at, insulted, or even publicly embarrassed again if it meant not dealing with whatever this is.Because Lena isn’t ignoring me.That would have been simple…but it's really not.No… she sees me, acknowledges me, responds when necessary, and then gives me absolutely nothing else, which somehow feels worse, like being politely erased from existence while still standing in the room.It’s impressive.Deeply annoying… but impressive.I lean against the kitchen counter, arms crossed loosely like I’m relaxed even though I’m very much not, watching her move around like I’m just another object that came with the house, useful but not worth attention, and the worst part is that she’s no
Lena's POVIgnoring someone is easier when they don’t notice, when the absence of your voice blends into everything else and no one stops to question it, but Derek notices in the worst possible way, not directly, just in the small pauses that stretch a little too long when I don’t respond the way I used to, and that makes it harder than it should be, because now it feels intentional even when I don’t say anything at all.I don’t speak to him unless I have to, and even then it’s reduced to the bare minimum, short responses that answer the question without opening anything else, polite in a way that creates distance instead of closing it, and he hasn’t said anything about it yet, which somehow makes it more noticeable, because the silence between us doesn’t feel empty anymore, it feels like something that’s being observed.In the kitchen, I move around him like space naturally exists between us, not avoiding, not rushing, just adjusting without thinking too much about it, and when he sa
Derek's POVI don’t go after her, not because the thought doesn’t cross my mind but because there are still too many people around and I’m not interested in turning whatever just happened into something bigger than it already is, especially when I don’t have a clear explanation for why it felt different in the first place.Vanessa slips right back into conversation like the entire scene was nothing more than a brief interruption, her voice steady, her expression untouched, and I stay where I am longer than necessary, half-listening while my attention keeps dragging me back to the exact moment Lena stood up.“She really didn’t say anything,” Vanessa says at some point, almost amused, like she’s replaying it for her own entertainment, and I glance at her briefly before looking away again, because I already know that part.What I don’t say is that it’s exactly what makes it sit wrong, the lack of reaction, the way Lena didn’t give anyone what they were waiting for, which somehow made the
Lena's POVBy the time I step into the cafeteria, I already know I’ve made a mistake, not the kind that can be fixed by turning around and pretending I forgot something, but the kind that settles in the air before anything actually happens, like the room has already decided I’m the reason it feels more interesting today, and as I walk past tables filled with people who suddenly seem very aware of where I am, the noise doesn’t drop the way it usually does, it stretches instead, bending just enough to include me without saying my name out loud.Somewhere to my left, a phone lights up, angled just enough for two people to see, and even though I don’t look directly, I catch it again, that same image, my face caught in a moment I didn’t know was being watched, paired with a caption I didn’t agree to, and the reaction it’s getting seems to have given everyone permission to behave like they’ve been waiting for this exact kind of entertainment.I make it to the table I usually sit at, the one
Lena's POVI know something is wrong before I even understand what it is, not because anyone says anything directly but because the hallway feels different in a way that doesn’t match the usual background noise of people talking about things that don’t matter, and as I walk past a group near the lockers, the conversation doesn’t stop, it bends, just slightly, like I’ve been added to it without being introduced.A phone turns in someone’s hand, angled just enough to share whatever is on the screen with the person beside them, and I don’t look directly, don’t slow down enough to make it obvious, but I catch it anyway, the brief flicker of an image that feels familiar in a way I don’t have time to process before it disappears.“…he actually posted her.”The words follow me a few steps further, not whispered enough to be private, and I keep walking because stopping would mean acknowledging something I don’t understand yet, and I’m not sure I want to.By the time I reach my locker, the fe
Derek's povThere are very few things in my life that don’t make sense, mostly because I don’t allow them to, and yet somehow Lena Carter has managed to exist in a space that refuses to stay organized, like every time I think I’ve figured her out she does something that doesn’t fit, and now I’m standing outside the library longer than necessary pretending I’m here for something else when I already know exactly why I haven’t walked away.She’s sitting at the far end, exactly where she always is, surrounded by books she probably doesn’t need, her head slightly tilted as she reads, one hand resting against the page like she’s holding it in place even though there’s no reason to, and there’s something about the way she exists in that space that feels… deliberate, even when she’s not trying.It shouldn’t matter.None of this should matter.I step inside anyway, my presence enough to shift the room without effort, a few people glancing up before going back to whatever they were doing, and s







