I didn't hear a single word in class.Mrs. Holloway was talking about something—history, maybe, or literature. The words washed over me like water, meaningless sounds that couldn't penetrate the noise in my head.The last time I loved someone, she died.Lucas's words kept repeating in my mind.I stared at the board, but the writing blurred in front of me. I tried to focus on the lesson. I really did.It didn't work.For weeks, I had been asking myself why Lucas kept pulling away whenever we got close. Why he looked at me like he wanted to say something and then swallowed the words. Why he seemed terrified whenever I mentioned getting closer to him.Now I finally understood.The distance. The walls. The way he pushed me away and pulled me back like he couldn't decide which was safer.It wasn't rejection.It was protection.He wasn't keeping me out.He was keeping himself in.I thought about Mara.I didn't know her. I had never met her. Yet somehow, her death had become a shadow between
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