Casey
There was something about the end of a school day that always felt heavier than the beginning. Mornings were loud, rushed, crowded with expectations. But afternoons carried everything you hadn't said, everything you'd noticed and tried not to. By the time the final bell rang, my head felt full in a way I didn't know how to explain.
Emily and Preeti walked beside me as we stepped out through the gates, our bags slung low on our shoulders, the noise of students thinning into smaller clusters. Emily was talking about something trivial—a teacher's accent, a quiz she hadn't studied for, while Preeti hummed softly, her curls bouncing with every step. They were my constants. I didn't need to look at them to know they were there.
Still, my attention drifted.
I didn't mean for it to. I wasn't looking for anything. But I felt it—that familiar, unsettling awareness like someone else was sharing the same stretch of air as me.
Edward.
I didn't turn around. I didn't need to. I had learned his presence the way you learn a shadow—not by sight, but by instinct. He walked a little behind, not close enough to be obvious, not far enough to disappear. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit, not because he'd done anything, but because he hadn't. Silence could be louder than words.
"Are you okay?" Emily asked suddenly, nudging my arm. "Yeah," I said too quickly. "Just tired."
She didn't push. Preeti glanced at me once, her grey eyes sharp but gentle, like she knew better than to ask in the middle of the road.
We walked the familiar path home, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. Somewhere behind us, footsteps matched our pace. I told myself it was nothing. Just coincidence. Just another student heading the same way.
But my shoulders stayed tense.
Jack was there too, ahead of us, this time. I noticed him before I wanted to, tall and easy. He looked different than usual. Jack didn't laugh on the walk home. He looked tired, tense in a quiet way, like he was carrying something he didn't want to talk about. When he reached the corner where our paths usually overlapped, he slowed.
For a moment, I thought he'd turn around.
Instead, he took the other route.
It was subtle. Almost unnoticeable. But it felt deliberate. Emily didn't seem to register it, and Preeti was busy tying her hair back, but I saw it. I wondered if Edward had seen it too. Maybe he did? The thought unsettled me more than it should have.
Edward had made me uncomfortable before, couldn't deny that. The way he'd sat behind me in class, close enough that I could feel his presence without ever seeing his face. He hadn't spoken, hadn't touched me, hadn't done anything wrong. And yet, I'd spent the entire day hyper-aware of every small movement I made, every breath I took. And now, walking home, that same awareness returned.
I risked a glance over my shoulder.
He was there. Dark hair slightly disheveled, rectangular glasses catching the light, his expression unreadable as ever. His eyes lifted just as mine did, and for half a second, the world narrowed to that single moment.
Then I looked away.
My heart beat faster, irritated at itself for reacting at all. I didn't know him. I didn't owe him anything—not attention, not curiosity, not space in my thoughts. And yet, he had already taken it.
"What are you thinking about?" Preeti asked, her voice light but knowing. "Nothing," I lied, and hated how easily it came.
We reached Emily's house first. She waved, her bright smile lingering even after the door closed behind her. Preeti's place came next. When she turned to leave, she squeezed my hand briefly, grounding me in a way she always did.
"Text me," she said.
"I will."
When I was alone, the silence felt louder.
I walked the rest of the way slowly, aware, uncomfortably aware that Edward's footsteps faded somewhere behind me. I didn't know if he'd stopped, turned, or continued on another path. I didn't look back again.
But even after I reached home, even after I shut the door and dropped my bag, the feeling lingered.
That sense of being noticed.
And for reasons I didn't yet understand, it scared me almost as much as it intrigued me.