Luna sat on the bench at the edge of the atrium where the east and west wings met, her phone angled just enough to justify her gaze while the last wave of students thinned into corridors and the space exhaled into a brief, hollow quiet.
The red blazer sat on her shoulders like it belonged there because she'd decided it did, and the chipped black at the edges of her nails framed the screen as her thumb moved in a steady, meaningless rhythm.
The quiet settled in layers as lockers stopped slamming and voices pulled away, leaving only the low hum of the building and the faint echo of footsteps disappearing down the west corridor.
She didn't look up when someone crossed the far side of the atrium, didn't track movement unless it came close enough to matter, and even then, she let the phone take priority because it gave her somewhere else to be without leaving.
A couple of late students passed through, glancing once, twice and then not again, and she felt that familiar shift as they decided despite her appeal, she wasn't worth the effort of approaching.
Good. Keep it that way.
The space was settling, the echo pulling back into the high ceiling, leaving the kind of quiet that didn't last long but felt like it might if you didn't think about it too hard.
She leaned back slightly, one ankle hooked over the other, posture loose in a way that said she wasn't waiting even though she absolutely was.
This is stupid. Where even is she? Just want to get this over with.
Her thumb flicked the screen again, a smooth, practiced motion that didn't connect to anything she was actually reading.
The main doors stayed closed, and the corridor to the principal's office stayed empty, and that was the only part of the atrium she actually cared about.
She adjusted her grip on the phone without looking up.
Footsteps approached from the east wing, not rushed, not hesitant, just steady, and she didn't bother checking until they were close enough that ignoring them would've been obvious.
Ah fuck.
Adam dropped onto the bench beside her like he'd always been planning to.
"The fuck you want, man? Don't you have something better to do?" she said without looking at him.
He leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the bench, tie already loose like he'd given up on pretending it mattered.
"Wow. Good morning to you too."
She snorted softly, eyes still on her phone. "It was fine until about three seconds ago."
"well, i'm heading to the west wing anyways," he said. "Saw you sitting here looking like you were about to fight the building."
She flicked the screen again. "Tempting."
He didn't move to leave.
I can just get up. I can literally just stand up and walk away.
She didn't.
"You know you don't have to be here," she said, finally glancing at him, her tone flat and pointed.
"Yeah, I...," he replied with slight hesitation. "I kinda figured that part out."
She held his gaze for a second, then looked back down at her phone. "Congrats. Big achievement."
"Thank you. I worked really hard for it."
She huffed out a breath that wasn't quite a laugh.
They sat like that for a moment, the quiet pressing in around them instead of breaking.
He tilted his head slightly, watching her hand move.
"I know you're not actually reading that," he said.
Her thumb paused for a fraction of a second.
"What?" she snapped.
"You keep scrolling but your eyes aren't moving with it."
There was a beat where her brain didn't quite catch up.
Oh for—
The screen blurred slightly as her focus snapped back to it, thumb moving again on instinct, the motion suddenly louder than it had been a second ago.
How the hell did he—
It wasn't the being called out that hit first, it was the realization that he'd been watching closely enough to notice something that small.
Why is he paying that much attention?
Her jaw tightened.
"I am reading," she said, a little too quick.
He raised an eyebrow. "And the sky is green."
The words landed without weight, but it stuck anyway.
Shut up. Just drop it.
She kept scrolling, slower now, aware of the movement in a way she hadn't been before.
Great. Now I can't even fake-scroll without thinking about it.
The habit felt exposed, like something she hadn't meant to show anyone.
He shifted slightly beside her, not crowding, just present.
"You okay?" he asked.
She let out a short breath. "I look like I'm okay to you?"
"You look like you're waiting for something you don't want," he said.
Her thumb stopped again.
Yeah, no shit.
She locked her phone without thinking and dropped it into her lap.
"Wow," she muttered. "You're really on a roll today, huh?"
He shrugged. "Just saying what I see."
She turned her head, giving him a flat look. "Then maybe stop seeing."
"Not really how that works."
"Then figure it out," she shot back.
He didn't react the way most people did, didn't pull back or get defensive, just watched her with that same steady attention that had caught the scrolling.
"If you need help with whatever it is," he said, "I can try."
She stared at him for a second, something sharp rising before she could stop it.
"I didn't ask," she said. "And even if I did, no offense, but what exactly are you gonna do about it?"
The words came out clean, automatic, hitting harder than she'd aimed for.
He blinked once, the expression shifting just slightly, not hurt exactly but not nothing either.
Shit.
The reaction landed in her chest in a way she didn't like.
That wasn't what I—
She looked away, jaw tightening again.
There was a small pause, not awkward, just there.
He nodded once. "Fair."
He didn't push.
He didn't argue.
He didn't make it into anything bigger than what it was.
That somehow made it worse.
Great. Awesome. Love that.
She thought to herself sarcastically.
She exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through her hair before dropping it back to her lap.
"Look, I'm not—" she started, then cut herself off. "Whatever. I'm just stressed. Don't make it into something."
It wasn't an apology.
It was the closest thing she was going to give.
He glanced at her, then nodded again. "Got it."
Another beat passed, quieter than before.
She stared straight ahead, eyes on the corridor leading to the principal's office.
Just say it. Get it out so he stops looking at you like that.
"My mom's showing up," she said.
The words came out flat, almost bored.
"That's it. That's the whole thing." she added.
He went still beside her, the shift subtle but there.
"Oh," he said.
Yeah. Oh is right.
She shrugged one shoulder, like it didn't matter. "You can't fix it, I can't fix it, so just—yeah."
He didn't jump in, didn't start offering solutions or asking questions.
He just sat with it for a second.
"That explains the vibe," he said quietly.
She snorted. "The vibe?"
"Yeah," he said. "The whole 'I might bite someone' thing you've got going on."
She glanced at him, unimpressed. "Might?"
"Fair point, please don't bite my face off."
Silence again, but it wasn't the same kind.
She shifted slightly on the bench, foot tapping once before she forced it still.
"You don't need to say anything," she said. "Seriously. Just go do whatever you were doing."
He hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"I mean it," she added, sharper now. "I'll handle it."
He studied her face, like he was deciding whether to argue.
He didn't.
"Okay," he said. "I've got a student council meeting anyway. I'm already late."
"Shocking."
"I know, right?"
He stood, straightening his blazer out of habit more than necessity.
"I hope it goes okay," he said.
She looked back at the corridor, not at him. "Yeah. Me too."
He lingered for half a second longer.
"I'll find you later," he added.
She shook her head immediately. "There's no 'find you later.' Go to your meeting."
He frowned slightly. "Luna—"
"I'm serious," she cut in. "Just go."
The tone left no room for negotiation.
He held her gaze for a moment, then nodded.
"Alright," he said. "See you around."
He turned and headed toward the west wing, footsteps fading into the corridor like everyone else's had earlier.
She didn't watch him go.
She picked her phone back up instead, unlocking it without looking at the screen.
Her thumb moved again, the same motion as before, the same meaningless scrolling.
The atrium settled back into itself around her, the quiet returning in layers as the last of the between-period movement disappeared.
It was the same bench.
The same light spilling in from the high windows.
The same distant hum of the building breathing through its walls.
Her phone screen reflected faintly in her eyes, numbers and images sliding past without sticking.
Okay. Fine. Back to waiting.
She adjusted her grip again, the edge of the case pressing into her palm.
The space felt bigger now, or maybe just emptier, the air stretching a little too wide around the spot where he'd been sitting.
She shifted slightly on the bench, not enough to move closer to the space, just enough to notice it.
Her foot tapped once, then stopped.
The quiet held, but it didn't sit the same way it had before, like something had been there to break it and now wasn't.
She stared at the screen without seeing it, thumb slowing, then stopping completely.
The reflection looked back at her, still and unhelpful.
She locked the phone again, letting it rest in her hands.
The atrium stayed quiet.
Not the same quiet.
Close enough that anyone else would've called it identical.
Not close enough for her to ignore it.
She leaned back against the bench, eyes drifting once toward the corridor she'd been watching since she got there.
Nothing.
Any minute now.
She looked forward again, the empty space settling around her, holding in a way that didn't quite fit anymore.
She stayed where she was.
Waiting.
And for the first time in a long time, she felt kind of....
Lonely.