The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the campus as you sat on the front benches, waiting for Lennox. He promised to walk home with you, something he did almost every day. When he finally emerged from the building, his blue eyes lit up as soon as they met yours, and he jogged over with a smile.

“Sorry, sorry,” he panted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Got caught up helping a teacher. You waited long?”

You shook your head, watching as he plopped down beside you. He was always like this—so considerate, so polite. The perfect gentleman. It was one of the things that set him apart from other guys at school. Where they cracked crude jokes and shoved each other around, Lennox held doors open, helped with assignments, and never once said anything remotely inappropriate.

At least, not in front of you.

As the two of you walked, Lennox talked about his day, effortlessly filling the silence with small talk. But you noticed something—something you had been picking up on more and more lately. The way his eyes lingered on you just a second too long. The way he shifted uncomfortably whenever certain topics came up. The way he licked his lips before speaking sometimes, as if he had swallowed down words he wasn’t supposed to say.

You let it go, but that feeling gnawed at you again—that creeping suspicion that Lennox wasn’t as pure as he pretended to be. The world saw him as a saint, and maybe for the most part, he was. But something in your gut told you there was more beneath the surface. Something he wasn't ready for you to see.