The classroom emptied slowly. Voices fading into the hallway, chairs scraping, then—silence.
Jade stayed in her seat. Notebook open, untouched. Across from her, Blake hadn't moved either. Neither had spoken since the pairing. The silence between them felt heavier than it should, dense with everything unsaid.
Finally, Jade exhaled. Closed her notebook. "So… I guess we're stuck working together."
Blake leaned back slightly. "I guess we are."
She nodded once, still avoiding his eyes. "What's the project about again?"
"Local history. Research something about the town."
She rubbed her temple. "Great."
He watched her. "You didn't sleep." Not a question.
Quiet, humorless laugh. "Neither did you."
He didn't deny it.
Silence settled again—softer this time. Then she looked at him. "Did you ever go back there?"
He frowned. "Back where?"
She hesitated. "The park."
Understanding flickered. The park. The place that used to be theirs.
He looked down at the desk. "Once."
She waited.
"It felt…" He paused. "Different. Empty."
Her chest tightened. "Yeah."
She swallowed. "I went there too."
He looked up. "When?"
"The week after." Her voice softened. "I didn't believe them." A pause. "So I went." Her hands tightened in her lap. "I thought maybe…" She stopped. Forced the words. "You'd still show up."
Something in his chest twisted sharply.
"I waited," she said quietly. "For hours."
The air shifted.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I went there too."
She blinked. "What?"
"The night I got the message." Rough now. "I waited." A pause. "Three hours."
Her breath caught. "I would've been there."
He met her eyes. "I know."
And this time—he really did.
The anger between them faded slightly. Not gone. But quieter. Distant thunder instead of storm overhead.
He leaned forward. "Do you remember the swing set?"
Small laugh. "The one that squeaked?"
He nodded. "You thought it was haunted."
" It sounded haunted."
"You made me check behind it three times."
"You said you heard something!"
" I said it might've been a raccoon."
"You were trying to scare me."
Smirk—faint, almost real. "It worked."
For a moment, they laughed. And it felt… normal. The kind of normal they hadn't had in years.
Then the laughter faded. But the silence that followed wasn't as heavy. She glanced at the assignment sheet.
"We should probably start."
He nodded. "Yeah."
They moved closer. Not much. Just enough.
Their hands brushed once—and both pulled back too quickly. Not because they wanted to. Because they didn't know what it meant anymore. What permission they had.
After a while, she spoke again. "You know…"
He looked up.
She hesitated. Then: "I've missed you."
The words hung. Simple. Devastating.
He didn't answer immediately. Expression softening—just slightly.
"Yeah…" Quiet exhale. "I never stopped."