Charlotte stepped out of her house just as the sky began to soften into evening. She almost missed him at first. Then she saw the bike parked beneath the streetlamp and Lucas standing beside it, one hand resting casually on the handlebar.
She stopped.
He wasn't supposed to be here. He hadn't said anything earlier. For a moment, she wondered if she had misunderstood, if this was meant for someone else.
"Why are you here?" she asked quietly, her fingers curling around the strap of her bag.
Lucas looked at her and smiled, calm as ever. "Get on."
She blinked, caught off guard. "I—" She hesitated, then tried again, softer. "You're not going to tell me why?"
"You don't need to know," he said, not unkindly.
Charlotte stood there for another second, her thoughts tangled with nerves. Then she nodded. Lucas swung onto the bike and turned the key. The engine came to life, its low hum filling the quiet street. He glanced back over his shoulder.
"Hop on."
She climbed on behind him, movements careful, unsure. As the bike rolled forward, she reached out instinctively and held onto his jacket. Her grip was light at first, then steadier. She stared at his back, at the familiar line of his shoulders, and felt something in her chest loosen. The wind brushed her face. Without realizing it, she smiled.
She didn't ask where they were going.
---
The annual science fair was mandatory for all students in the advanced science track, including Charlotte and Julian. Students were usually allowed to choose their own partners, which meant most people gravitated toward familiar faces. Left on their own, Charlotte would work alone, not out of arrogance but because she was deeply introverted, rarely speaking unless spoken to. Julian, though exceptionally intelligent, struggled even more. Social interaction left him stiff and uncertain, his words tangled before they ever reached his mouth.
Two students with talent with no bridge between them.
Lucas noticed long before anyone else did.
He approached Mr. Gable after class, choosing a moment when the room was quiet. "The guidelines say you can assign partners if necessary," he said. "Some students don't struggle academically. They struggle socially. Julian is excellent with observation and equipment. Charlotte understands theory and explains it clearly. Together, they'd balance each other."
He framed it as logistics, not concern. Mr. Gable considered the suggestion carefully.
"That pairing could work," he said at last. "I'll make the assignment."
Lucas thanked him and left. The outcome was exactly what he intended. The feeling that followed was familiar, settling heavy in his chest.
The next day, when the partnerships were announced, Charlotte looked up in surprise.
"Charlotte and Julian," Mr. Gable said. "Your topic will be the Perseid meteor shower."
Julian froze, his shoulders tensing. Charlotte's hands tightened in her lap. They barely knew each other. Trust did not come easily anymore. Then she saw Lucas across the room. He met her eyes and gave a small nod before returning to his book.
It steadied her.
Their first meeting took place in the astronomy club room. The silence was uncomfortable at first. Then Julian began talking about meteors. Once he started, the hesitation faded. He explained radiant points, comet debris, observation windows. His hands moved as he spoke, confidence replacing anxiety.
Charlotte listened closely. Then she spoke up, adding ideas about trajectory modeling and data analysis. Julian paused, surprised, then nodded eagerly. The conversation began to flow.
They lost track of time.
The project became a sanctuary. The dusty club room turned into a space where neither of them felt out of place. Julian grew more confident with each meeting. Charlotte found herself laughing quietly, her guarded nature easing. Working together felt natural, almost effortless.
Julia noticed.
Losing her social standing had left her bitter, and watching Charlotte recover made it worse. Direct confrontation had already failed. This time, she chose something quieter, something that would rot Charlotte's reputation from the inside.
She wrote a letter.
Pink stationery. A careful imitation of Charlotte's handwriting. The message was obsessive, humiliating, and deliberately uncomfortable. It was meant for Leo.
During lunch, Julia slipped the envelope into Charlotte's backpack, already imagining the fallout.
Lucas already knew.
He had seen the stationery. The handwriting practice. As students pushed through the crowded hallway, he staged a brief collision. In a single smooth motion, the envelope was gone.
Charlotte never noticed.
Lucas read the letter in an empty corridor. It confirmed everything. He folded it carefully and slipped it into his pocket.
This wasn't just about stopping Julia anymore.
It was about making sure she could never hurt Charlotte again.