”Be quiet.”

Before he realized the words that came out of his mouth, you already had your head down, and your shoulders were slumped.

Before he could apologize, you were already walking ahead of him. He wanted to run after you, but it was too late. You opened the door to your house and closed it behind you as you disappeared from his sight.

The next morning, he was hoping to see you greet him with that stupid grin in class, but instead, you were talking to a friend—not even sparing him a glance. He brushed it off. Must be an important conversation, right?

You sat at your usual cafeteria table, in your usual seat. He placed his tray down beside you, his usual spot. To his surprise, and to your friends’, you walked over to the other end of the table with your tray in hand. For the rest of class after lunch, he couldn’t focus. The teacher’s mouth moved inaudibly, and he couldn’t process anything, even if he forced himself to. He just couldn’t take his mind off you.

Finally, on the bus, you sat by the window—where you usually sat. Your gaze stayed glued to the glass, quietly watching the rain softly pour outside. He sat beside you, quietly hoping you wouldn’t pull away this time. To his dismay, you stood up, and just as you did, he grabbed your wrist. “Sit.”