Nathan
The chair scrapes softly as Anna stands.
I look up just in time to see the chemistry teacher at the door, speaking in a hushed, shy voice, eyes darting once toward Mr. Choi before settling on her. Anna nods, already gathering her notebook, ever composed—even when she's being stolen mid-lesson.
I watch her walk out of the classroom after her, my mouth opening on instinct. The door closes behind her with a final click, and something in my chest tightens sharply.
I should tell her.
I exhale through my nose and lean back, pressing my fingers into my temple. The dull ache has returned there—constant, pulsing and familiar.
The thought comes fully formed, immediate. Not a question. Not a debate. I should tell Anna about the nightmare. About waking up gasping like I'd been dragged out of deep water. About the pain that had exploded behind my eyes so suddenly it'd stolen my breath. About the fear that had settled in my bones and refused to leave.
About the call with Aria.
I picture her listening, brow furrowed, mind already sorting through solutions. Grounded. Certain. Steady in the way I've leaned on for years without ever thinking twice.
Trust, simple and unshaken.
After class, I tell myself.
I'll tell her everything then.
The chalk taps against the board, pulling the room back into motion. Equations bloom and blur. The teacher's voice drones on, steady and precise, but my thoughts refuse to follow.
They drift. Without warning, my gaze shifts.
And lands on Aria.
She's sitting a few rows ahead, head tilted slightly as she doodles in the margins of her notebook, pen moving in lazy curves like her mind is somewhere else entirely.
I don't realize I'm staring until I realize I haven't looked away.
There's something about her today. Not different exactly. Just—present. Like she's carrying a quiet weight I can't see but somehow feel from here.
Then she turns. And our eyes meet.
It's barely a second. A fraction of one.
But it's enough.
Something loosens in my chest before I can stop it, before I can think better of it. My mouth curves upward on its own, the smile slipping out like a reflex I forgot I had.
Her lips part slightly. Surprise flickers across her face. And then she looks away.
Heat rushes through me all at once, unwarranted and confusing. I blink, suddenly aware of the ache in my head fading to a distant hum. Shit!
I don't remember deciding to smile. But I smiled anyway!
The surprising thing is that for that brief second—
The noise in my mind went quiet.
And when I finally look back at the board, the equations still don't make sense. But somehow, I feel steadier than I have all morning.
***
Physics is a nightmare disguised as a subject.
Mr. Verma stands at the board like a war general, chalk in hand, equations spreading across the green surface in sharp, aggressive strokes. Symbols pile on symbols. Arrows. Forces. Variables I'm fairly sure were invented solely to ruin teenage lives.
"Now," he says, turning abruptly, eyes sweeping the room, "tell me, what happens when force is applied at an angle θ with respect to displacement?"
Silence. No single hand raises up to answer. Everyone is terrified of this demon disguised as a teacher.
I stare at the board like it might suddenly translate itself. It doesn't. My brain offers absolutely nothing helpful in return.
Mr. Verma sighs dramatically. "A class full of donkeys," he declares, disappointed but not surprised. "Complete donkeys."
I groan inwardly and drop my head back against the chair.
Where is Anna when you need her?
She would've had her hand up already. Would've answered calmly. Saved all of us from public humiliation. But no, chemistry kidnapped her, and now we're doomed.
This man resumes writing. "According to Newton's laws of motion—"
Sam leans closer to me, eyes fixed on the board. "You know," he says, "it would've been better if the whole tree had fallen on Newton's head instead of just the apple."
I turn to him. No, Sam! Don't!
"I mean," He continues thoughtfully, "then at least we wouldn't be suffering like this."
His voice is not a whisper. It is very much not a whisper!
The room freezes.
Every head turns. Every. Single. One.
Sam finally realizes what he's done and goes rigid beside me, eyes wide, mouth half-open like he might still be able to pull the words back.
Mr. Verma turns slowly. Too slowly. His calm smile is the kind that belongs in horror movies.
"Oh?" he says mildly. "If great Sir Isaac Newton had died that day—" he slams the chalk onto the ledge, "—then who, pray tell, would have invented these methods to solve such problems?"
He takes a dramatic pause.
"You?!" he shouts suddenly. "You, Sam Williams?!"
That's it… I lose it.
A sharp burst of laughter escapes me before I can stop it. I clap a hand over my mouth instantly, shoulders jerking as I try and fail to contain the laugh inside of me.
Mr. Verma's head snaps toward the sound. "WHO LAUGHED?" he roars.
I squeeze my lips together, eyes watering, body shaking. Around us, the class stares very intently at their notebooks like they've never seen paper before.
He glares at all of us. "A stable full of donkeys!" he mutters, turning back to the board. "Absolute disgrace!"
He resumes solving the equation with violent chalk strokes, temper visibly on flames.
Sam nudges me, barely holding back a grin. "Have a plan to expel all of us?"
I shake silently, laughter bubbling up again. I bit my knuckle to keep it in.
For the first time all day—
I don't even mind physics.
###
Ariana
Anna still hasn't come back.
The thought circles my mind for the fifth time as I turn another page of my novel, though I haven't really absorbed a single word in the last ten minutes. The classroom hums softly around me.
Usually, Anna would be here by now. Sitting beside me. Whispering sarcastic comments under her breath. Tapping her pen when she gets bored.
I glance at the door again.
Nothing.
A faint unease settles in my stomach. I sigh quietly and lower my eyes back to the book, fingers tightening slightly around the pages as if that might ground me.
That's when the shadow falls across my desk.
I don't need to look up to know who it is.
"Still pretending to be invisible?" Susy's voice drips with amusement.
My shoulders stiffen. I raise my head slowly. Susy stands there with Tiara just behind her, arms crossed, lips curled in that familiar cruel half-smile. They look bored. Which somehow makes it worse.
"I'm reading," I say softly. "Can you—"
Susy laughs. "She thinks we care."
Tiara snickers.
I close the book carefully, heart starting to pound. Around us, the class continues as if nothing is happening. As if this is normal. As if I'm not suddenly very aware of how alone I am without Anna.
Susy's eyes flick down to my neck. To the pendant.
Her smile sharpens.
"Oh wow," she says, leaning in slightly. "You still wear that ugly thing?"
Instinctively, my hand comes up, fingers brushing the small pendant resting against my collarbone.
"Don't touch it." I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
No.. that was the wrong thing to say.
Susy's hand shoots out. In one swift motion, she yanks the chain from my neck.
I gasp, the sound sharp and helpless as the pendant snaps free. "Susy—!"
She doesn't listen. Her body turns, arm swinging back casually, and she throws it.
Clink… Shatter
The pendant hits the wall with a crack. Then a smaller, final sound. Broken.
My breath leaves me. For a second, I can't move. I can't think. The world narrows down to that spot on the floor where something precious now lies in pieces.
"No—" The word falls out of me as I push my chair back and drop to my knees. I scramble forward, hands shaking as I gather the broken fragments. The chain, the cracked center, my grandfather's gift.
My chest tightens painfully.
He gave it to me with a smile. Told me to keep it close. Told me it would protect me.
Tears blur my vision before I can stop them. Behind me, I hear Susy laugh. "Oops." Something hot and sharp breaks inside my chest.
Bang!
A sharp noise of breaking something heavier follows behind me. I flinch and turn around.
Nathan stands behind Susy. So close she almost collides with him when she turns. He doesn't say a word. His face is terrifyingly calm but his eyes are on fire. Pure, burning fury.
Susy freezes. Her phone is lying on the floor, screen shattered, pieces skidding across the tiles.
I stare. My heart stops at the realization that he broke it!
Nathan doesn't even look down at what he did. And for the first time since I've known her, Susy looks afraid.
"You," he says quietly. Just one word. But it's enough.
The room has gone completely silent.
Susy swallows. "I-It was just a joke—"
"Apologize," Nathan says. He's not loud. Not even angry. Just… deadly.
Susy's lips tremble. She looks around, her eyes desperate. Then looks back at him. Behind her, Tiara is staring at Nathan without wide eyes.
"I'm sorry," Susy blurts out, not even looking at me.
Nathan doesn't respond. Instead, his gaze shifts. To me, who's still crouched on the floor, clutching the broken pendant like it might fix itself if I hold any longer. My gaze meets his and something in his expression changes—the anger softens. Not completely, but enough to make my chest ache.
He steps past Susy. Kneels slightly. And reaches for my hand. I feel the steady and real warmth as his fingers wrap around mine.
"Come on," he says gently.
Before I can think. Before I can protest. Before I can even wipe my tears—
He pulls me up. And without letting go, without looking back, without saying another word,
Nathan takes me out of the classroom.
And for the first time that day, I don't feel invisible anymore.
***
The garden is quieter than the corridors. Sunlight filters through the trees in soft patches, dappling the path beneath our feet. Birds chatter somewhere overhead, unaware that my chest still feels tight.
Nathan walks beside me. Not too close. But not far enough to feel alone.
I keep my eyes on the ground, the shattered pendant resting in my hand like something fragile and alive. The chain tangles around my fingers, cold and sharp where it broke.
"I—" My voice cracks before I finish. I swallow and try again. "That pendant… it was my grandfather's."
Nathan turns his head slightly, listening.
"He gave it to me before he passed away," I continued quietly. "He said it would keep me safe. I never take it off. Not ever. He loved me so much. It was the thing that made me feel like he was close to me."
The words spill out faster than I mean them to, like I've been holding them in too long.
I stop walking. Nathan stops too. For a moment, he just looks at me. Not with pity. Not with concern. Something steadier. Something that makes my chest ache in a different way.
Then he does something unexpected.
He stretches his hand out toward me, palm open. "Give it to me," he says simply.
I blink. "What?"
"The pendant," he repeats gently.
My fingers tighten around it on instinct. "Why?"
"I'll fix it."
I stare at him.
The world feels slightly off balance. "Are you serious? Don't joke with me right now." I try to look away.
His lips curve into a small smile. Not teasing. Not mocking. Real.
He lets out a quiet laugh and reaches forward, flicking my nose lightly with his finger. "I'm serious, Ari."
My breath stutters.
"I promise," he adds. "I'll fix it."
Something warm and sudden flutters in my stomach. My eyes burn before I realize what's happening. Slowly, hesitantly, I place the broken pendant into his palm.
He studies it carefully, turning the pieces over like they matter. Like they're important. Like they're not just broken glass and metal.
That's when it hits me. Tears well up all at once. Before I can stop myself, I step forward and bury my face against his chest. A soft sob slips out, then another. My shoulders shake as everything I've been holding back finally gives way.
Nathan freezes. I feel it instantly—for a heartbeat, he doesn't move at all. Then, slowly, awkwardly, his hand comes up and rests on my back. He pats once. Then again. Gentle. Careful.
"It's okay," he murmurs. "I've got it. I've got you."
I laugh weakly through my tears when he adds, "But please don't cry. It really doesn't suit your cute features."
I pull back slightly, sniffing. "Did you seriously just say that?"
He grins. "Absolutely."
Despite myself, I laugh. He laughs too. The sound feels light.
Then suddenly, his body stiffens. Concern creeps into me as he jerks back, one hand flying to his head as he bends forward. His breath hitching. His fingers dig into his hair as if something inside him just exploded.
"Nathan!" Panic spikes in my chest. "What happened?"
He doesn't answer immediately. He just stands there, gripping his head, jaw clenched tight as a sharp, invisible pain tears through him. His eyes roll back as if he's fighting a battle with his insights.
And without thinking, I hold both his hands. Desperately trying to calm him down. "H-hey!"
Nathan's eyes are tightly shut. Sweat has dampened the front of his hair.
I reach and take off his glasses and cup the side of his face with my other palm. Oh god! His face is burning hot!
***
Seconds that feel like eternity later, Nathan's face eases. The crease of lines on his forehead vanishes and he slowly opens his eyes. And looks at me.
For a moment, I feel like I should run away. Because his eyes look… terrifying. He looks like someone else entirely. When his eyes darken more, I get up from the kneeling posture with a sudden jerk.
Something flashes before his eyes and he looks at the surroundings. Then looks up, at me. That terrifying look has gone from his eyes. And this is the boy who just now promised me to fix my precious pendant.
"Nathan…" I whisper. Afraid, I might lose this boy again.
His eyes widen as he realizes I'm afraid. Afraid of him. And then he gets up and wraps his arms around me.
"I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't know what was happening.. I might've scared you.. I'm sorry! I'm sorry…" He says repeatedly.
I clutch his shirt. "... it's alright.. Nathan."
And as his name leaves my mouth, his grip tightens around me.
Why does it feel so assuring?
"Oh love-birds! Guess, the school is going to have a new tea!" A voice cuts through the pleasant silence of the garden and both of us jerk apart only to see Kathy standing a few feet away.