By the time first period started, I had already decided one thing:
If Enzo was behind the messages, I wasn't going to confront him outright.
I wasn't that brave.
And honestly, I wasn't that stupid.
People who hid behind private numbers didn't like direct light. They liked shadows. They liked watching. Waiting. Slipping up only when they thought no one was paying attention.
So I would pay attention.
I slid into my seat quietly, my bag resting against my chair like a shield. The classroom buzzed with low conversations, chairs scraping against the floor, the usual Monday noise. Everything looked normal. Too normal.
Then Enzo walked in.
He took his seat two rows ahead of me, slightly to the side. Not close enough to feel obvious. Not far enough to feel distant. The kind of placement that let someone see without being seen.
You're overthinking, I told myself.
But my chest tightened anyway.
I felt Mia's eyes flick toward me from across the room. She didn't say anything she didn't need to. She knew. She had seen my hands shake when I showed her the messages. She had heard my voice crack when I told her about the "good night" text.
So now she watched. Quietly. Carefully.
Just like me.
Testing the Water
When the teacher began writing on the board, I leaned forward slightly and let my pen fall to the floor on purpose. It rolled just enough to stop near Enzo's desk.
"Sorry," I murmured, standing to pick it up.
Enzo was already there.
"Here," he said, handing it to me with a small smile. "You drop things a lot."
My stomach flipped.
I forced a light laugh. "Yeah. Guess I'm just clumsy."
He studied my face for half a second too long. Not in a creepy way. Not obviously. Just… observant.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked casually.
The question hit harder than it should have.
I kept my expression neutral. "Yeah. Why?"
"No reason," he said quickly. "You just looked tired."
Did I?
Or was he checking?
I nodded and returned to my seat, heart beating faster than before. I hated how normal he sounded. I hated how easily he blended into the day, like he hadn't possibly been the one sending messages that made my skin crawl.
Say something, I told myself.
Just a little thing. Test him.
When the class settled into quiet work time, I leaned forward again, lowering my voice just enough.
"Hey, Enzo."
He turned immediately. "Yeah?"
"I've been getting weird messages lately," I said, watching his face carefully. "From a private number."
There it was. The bait.
For a split second just a breath, just a blink something flickered across his eyes.
Surprise?
Curiosity?
Or guilt?
"That's… strange," he said slowly. "What kind of messages?"
Careful, I thought. Too careful.
I shrugged. "Nothing serious. Just… odd."
His brows furrowed. "You should be careful. People can be weird."
That was the problem.
He sounded sincere.
Too sincere.
I nodded, pretending to agree, while my thoughts raced. If he was the one texting me, he was good. Very good. Or maybe… maybe I was wrong.
When I leaned back, Mia's eyes widened slightly, silently asking, Well?
I shook my head just a little.
I don't know.
The Message
Second period hadn't even ended when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Once.
Then again.
My heart dropped.
I didn't check immediately. I couldn't. Not with the teacher pacing the room, not with people so close. But my skin buzzed like electricity had settled beneath it.
When the bell finally rang, I pulled my phone out with shaking fingers.
Private Number:
Did you sleep well?
My breath caught.
That was the exact question Enzo had asked.
I glanced up instinctively, scanning the hallway. Students poured out of classrooms, laughing, shouting, bumping into one another. Enzo stood a few steps away, laughing with someone from the math club.
He wasn't holding his phone.
But that meant nothing.
People didn't need to hold their phones to send messages anymore.
I typed slowly.
Me:
Who is this?
The reply came almost instantly.
Someone who notices you.
My throat went dry.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket like it burned and walked quickly toward the stairs. Mia caught up to me halfway down the hall.
"Aria," she whispered urgently. "What happened?"
"They texted again," I said under my breath.
Her face hardened. "Now?"
I nodded.
She grabbed my arm gently, steering me away from the crowd. "Okay. Breathe. Did you see who was on their phone?"
"No," I said. "That's the worst part."
Watching Eyes
The rest of the day dragged.
Every laugh sounded fake.
Every glance felt loaded.
Every shadow felt too close.
I started noticing things I'd never paid attention to before.
How Enzo always seemed to be nearby but never directly next to me.
How he left rooms a few seconds after I did.
How sometimes, when I turned suddenly, it felt like someone had just looked away.
At lunch, I didn't eat.
I told Mia I wasn't hungry, but the truth was I was afraid. Afraid to sit still. Afraid to be predictable. Afraid that somewhere someone was watching and smiling.
My phone buzzed again.
I didn't open it.
Then again.
Mia watched my face pale. "Aria. You can't let this person control you."
"I know," I whispered. "But what if I'm wrong about Enzo?"
"Then we keep watching," she said firmly. "We don't accuse. We don't panic. We gather."
I nodded, grateful for her calm.
Still, my chest felt tight.
Because deep down, I knew something else.
Whoever this was…
They weren't rushing.
They weren't careless.
They were enjoying this.
A Smile That Didn't Reach the Eyes
As school ended, Enzo caught up to me again near the gate.
"Hey," he said. "You heading home?"
"Yeah," I replied, keeping my voice steady.
He hesitated, then smiled. "If those messages get worse, you should tell someone. Me, Mia… anyone."
I forced a smile back. "I will."
As he walked away, my phone vibrated one more time.
Private Number:
You shouldn't trust everyone who smiles at you.
My hands went cold.
I didn't know who was playing me.
But one thing was clear now
This wasn't just curiosity anymore.
It was a game.
And I had just stepped onto the board.
---
That night, Aria didn't turn on the lights immediately when she got home. She stood by the door for a moment longer than necessary, her fingers still wrapped around the handle as if letting go would invite something she wasn't ready for. The house was quiet, too quiet, and for a brief second she wondered if silence could be louder than noise.
She locked the door, then locked it again, before finally dropping her bag and switching on the light. Everything looked normal. Too normal. She walked to her room, shut the door, and sat on the edge of her bed, her phone heavy in her hand like it carried more than messages.
She hadn't checked the last text again, but she didn't need to. The words were already burned into her thoughts.
You shouldn't trust everyone who smiles at you.
She changed slowly, every little sound making her tense. The zip of fabric, the soft creak of the wardrobe, even her own breathing felt exaggerated. When she finally lay down, she placed her phone face‑down beside her, as if that could keep it quiet.
It buzzed.
Her heart jumped violently, and she grabbed it almost instantly.
A private number.
Why are you quiet now?
Her throat tightened. How did they know she was awake? How did they know she was holding her phone right now?
After several seconds of staring at the screen, she typed back.
You're scaring me.
The reply didn't come immediately, and that delay made her pulse race even faster. Then the screen lit up again.
That wasn't my intention.
She swallowed.
Then stop texting me.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
I can't.
Her chest felt tight. She locked her phone and turned away, pulling her blanket closer around herself. Sleep came late and when it did, it was shallow and restless. She kept waking up with the strange feeling that someone knew her too well.
Morning didn't make it better.
She woke up tired in a way sleep couldn't fix. The first thing she did was check her phone. No new messages. Relief should have followed, but instead, unease settled in deeper.
At school, she stayed close to Mia, barely speaking, barely reacting. The whispers around her hadn't stopped, but she didn't care. Her attention was split between every movement around her and the weight of her phone in her pocket.
Enzo greeted them near the lockers like he always did.
"Morning."
"Morning," Aria replied, forcing her voice to sound steady.
He walked away like nothing was wrong, like he hadn't done anything unusual. That almost bothered her more.
During class, her phone buzzed once.
She ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Mia glanced at her, concern flickering across her face, but Aria shook her head slightly. When the teacher turned away, she finally looked.
You look tired today.
Her breath caught. She hadn't said that to anyone.
How do you know that?
She typed quickly, her fingers trembling.
The reply took its time.
Because I pay attention.
Her heart pounded so hard she felt dizzy. She locked her phone and stared straight ahead, no longer hearing a word the teacher said. This wasn't random. Whoever this was, they were close. Close enough to see her, to observe her, to notice things she didn't even notice herself.
By the end of the day, fear had turned into something sharper. Determination.
She couldn't keep wondering. She couldn't keep running.
As she and Mia walked out of school together, her phone buzzed again.
You're thinking too much.
She stopped walking.
If you know me so well, then tell me something only I would notice.
This time, the pause before the reply felt unbearable.
Then her screen lit up.
You always touch your necklace when you're nervous.
Her fingers froze around the chain at her neck.
Slowly, Aria lifted her head and looked around. Students laughed, talked, passed by without a second glance. Everything looked ordinary.
But somewhere in that crowd, someone was watching her closely.
And for the first time, she knew one thing for sure.
This wasn't going to stop on its own.