Me and Sarah have been best friends since before we could tie our shoes — practically raised in each other’s houses. Her room was my room. Her family, like mine.

Except for Rafe.

Her brother. Older. Always annoyed. Always shutting doors in our faces.

“Don’t touch that.” “Keep your voice down.” “Why is she always here?”

He never joked with us. Never joined in. He just existed — cold and distant — like we were background noise he couldn’t mute.

But even when he was at his coldest… he always noticed.

Like the time we wandered too far on the beach and got caught in the rain — he showed up in his car, wet and furious.

“Next time you want to drown, don’t drag my sister with you.”

Or when Sarah snuck out once and I tagged along — we didn’t even get to the end of the block before Rafe pulled up, windows down, expression flat.

“Get in. Now.”

He never said why he was there. Never said how he knew.

But he always showed up.

⸻

So when we walked into that party, and Sarah grabbed my arm with a gasp — “Is that Rafe?” — I wasn’t shocked. Just… confused.

There he was. Standing by the wall in all black, arms crossed, face blank.

He didn’t belong there. Didn’t look like he wanted to be there.

And he didn’t look at us either. Not once.

“Did he follow us?” Sarah muttered.

I shrugged. “He’s not exactly the party type.”

But I knew. Deep down, I knew.

He was there because we were.

⸻

Later, Sarah vanished into the crowd. Typical.

I found myself watching him. Again.

And I knew I shouldn’t, but I walked over anyway.

“Didn’t think this kind of chaos was your thing,” I said.

He didn’t look. Just sipped his drink, eyes scanning the room.

“It’s not.”

“Let me guess. You’re here to babysit.”

“You’d think I get paid for this.”

I scoffed. “No one asked you to come.”

He finally glanced at me.

“That’s the problem.”

There was something in the way he looked at me — tired, maybe. Annoyed, definitely. But underneath?

Something else. Something I couldn’t name.

“You can relax,” I said. “We’re not stupid.”

“You’re students. Same thing.”

I rolled my eyes. “So why watch at all?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked back at the crowd, jaw tense.

“Because I know what guys are like at these things.”

My heart did something it shouldn’t.

But I shoved it down. “Not all guys.”

“No. Just the ones who look at you like that.”

I froze. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer.

And before I could say anything else, he pushed off the wall, brushing past me like I wasn’t even there.

But he didn’t leave.

He stayed. In the shadows. Always watching.

And no matter how loud the music got, or how many people danced around me—

I only felt him.

Like gravity. Cold and distant.

But always there.