Casey
As soon as the hallway noise swallowed Jack's last words, I turned and walked away, fast enough that my legs almost tripped over themselves. My chest felt tight, like I had breathed in too sharply and forgotten how to let it out. I didn't look back. I didn't want to see his face again, not right then.
My friends were near the lockers by the stairs. They saw my expression before I even opened my mouth. "Casey?" one of them asked. "What happened?"
I shook my head at first, then laughed under my breath because it came out wrong. Too brittle. Too sharp. I leaned back against the lockers, crossing my arms like that would keep me from shaking. "We argued," I said. "I don't even know how it started."
They exchanged looks. "You and Jack?" Emily asked softly. I nodded. I told them pieces of it. Not everything. Just enough.
One of them swore under her breath. Another sighed. "That doesn't sound like him," Preeti said. "That's what scares me," I replied.
The bell rang before the conversation could stretch any further.
Break time. Twelve to one. Normally my favorite hour of the day. That thought almost made me laugh again.
"I'm going to the roof," I said suddenly. They hesitated. One of them opened her mouth, probably to ask if I was okay. "I just need air," I added, already moving away.
The rooftop door creaked when I pushed it open. The sound echoed briefly, then disappeared into the open space. The breeze hit my face immediately, cool and steady, carrying the faint smell of dust and spring. The sky was changing. Clouds were rolling in slowly, not threatening rain, just dimming the light.
I walked to the edge and stopped, gripping the railing lightly.
Spring was giving up its warmth slowly. The breeze was cooler now, brushing past my face and slipping through my hair, carrying the faint smell of dust and leaves. A few dry leaves skidded across the concrete, scraping softly before falling still.
From here, the city stretched out below the hill, traffic moving like thin lines of light and metal, distant horns blending into a dull hum. The sky was pale, clouds gathering lazily, as if they hadn't decided whether to stay or leave.
I leaned against the railing, fingers cold against the metal, and stared ahead. The wind kept moving, constant, grounding. It was easier to breathe up here.
Somewhere between the noise of the city and the rustle of leaves, Edward crossed my mind. I hadn't meant to think of him, but the thought came anyway. The way he had looked earlier. The way his presence lingered, quiet but unmistakable. I wondered why that unsettled me more than it should have.
"Casey," he said quietly.
I turned toward him, surprise flickering across my face.
"What are you doing here? Skipping lunch?" He asked.
His voice came from behind me, low, careful.
I turned slightly. Edward stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, glasses catching a soft glint of light. He didn't come closer, didn't push into my space.
I hadn't answered yet.
Edward shifted his weight slightly, eyes moving past me to the city before returning to my face.
"What are you doing up here?" he pushed gently.
"I needed air," I said. "Somewhere quiet." He nodded once, as if that made sense. After a moment, he asked more softly, "How are you… feeling?"
The question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. "I don't know," I admitted. "Confused, I guess." He hesitated, then asked the next question carefully, "What happened between you and Jack?"
I let out a slow breath, hesitant. "It just… happened. Suddenly. One moment everything was normal, and the next it wasn't. I don't even know why it escalated like that." My fingers tightened around the railing. "I didn't mean for it to turn into a fight."
Edward didn't interrupt. He just listened. "I keep replaying it," I continued, words spilling out now. "What I said, what he said. And the more I think about it, the more restless I feel. Like something's wrong and I can't fix it." My voice wavered despite my effort to keep it steady.
"Hey," he said quietly. Before I could react, he reached out and took my hands, gentle but firm. His palms were warm, grounding. "Breathe," he said. "You're spiraling."
I looked up at him.
For a moment, neither of us moved. The wind brushed past us, tugging at our clothes, but everything else felt still. His eyes held mine longer than necessary, longer than safe. There was something unspoken there, something charged, humming just beneath the surface.
Then reality rushed back in.
I pulled my hands away, stepping back half a pace. He did the same, clearing his throat. The space between us suddenly felt too noticeable.
"Sorry," I said at the same time he said, "I didn't mean—"
We both stopped.
Awkwardness settled in, thick and undeniable. Not uncomfortable enough to push us apart, but enough to make us painfully aware of each other.
Edward glanced away, then back at me. "You don't have to figure everything out right now," he said. "Just… don't let it consume you." I nodded. "I'll try."
Silence returned, but it wasn't empty this time. It was loaded, expectant, like something had shifted without either of us saying it out loud. And when we started talking again, it was slower, a little careful, like we were both aware that whatever had just happened couldn't be undone.