You’ve made a habit of it.
If she answers in class? You cut in with, “Wow, she speaks.”
If she walks by your table? You say something just loud enough.
If someone compliments her work? You smirk and say, “Guess she’s good at something.”
You tell yourself it’s harmless.
But it’s not.
You notice who she sits beside. When she leaves. Who laughs at her dry one-liners. How she never actually looks rattled.
That’s what bothers you.
She just watches you back.
And she waits.
⸻
It happens at a crowded house party.
Music loud. People drunk. Your element.
You’re in the middle of a group when she walks in — quieter than everyone else, dressed simple, hands in her pockets.
Someone nudges you. “Isn’t that your favorite victim?”
You grin.
You call out to her.
“Hey! You make it past your bedtime?”
Laughter erupts around you.
She slowly looks at you.
You tilt your head mockingly. “Careful guys, she might stare us to death.”
More laughter.
She doesn’t respond.
And that lack of reaction annoys you more than anything.
Later — much later — the party thins out. People scatter. You’re in the kitchen grabbing water when you realize you’re not alone anymore.
She’s there.
Leaning against the counter.
Watching you.
Just you and her and the low hum of the refrigerator.
You roll your eyes. “What? You here to finally say something clever?”
She pushes off the counter.
Takes one slow step toward you.
“You’re brave when you’re surrounded,” she says calmly.
You scoff. “I don’t need people to say that to your face.”
“Good.”
She closes the distance faster than you expect.
Suddenly your lower back hits the kitchen island.
Her hand lands beside you — not touching you yet — just claiming space.
Your breath stutters.
She leans in slightly.
“You think I don’t notice?” she murmurs.
“Notice what?” You force a smirk.
“That you only speak when you have an audience.” Her gaze glides over you in a way that feels..degrading.
Her other hand comes to the counter on your opposite side.
You’re boxed in now.
“Go on,” she says. “Say it again.”
“Say what?” Your voice is sharper now — but thinner.
“What you called me.”
You swallow.
“You’re acting dramatic.”
Her jaw tightens slightly.
“Say it.”