He invaded my dreams before he ever stepped into my life.
At first, he was a ghost—a presence without a name or a voice. He was the feeling of sunlight on a cold morning, strangely familiar yet entirely out of reach. I tried to ignore it; I told myself that dreams were just the brain's way of tidying up messy thoughts.
Then came the day of the celebration.
I hadn't planned on noticing him. But there he was: **Kai**. He stood in the center of the crowd, dressed in crisp traditional clothes that made him look like he owned the very air he breathed. While everyone else laughed and clamored for his attention, I found myself paralyzed. My heart didn't just beat; it stuttered.
That night, he returned to my sleep. By the next morning, his image lingered in my mind like an unfinished sentence.
"You dreamed about *who*?" **Gia** shrieked, her voice echoing off the hallway lockers.
"Shhh!" I hissed, pulling my books tighter against my chest. "It was nothing. Just a dream."
Gia's eyes sparkled with that chaotic energy I had come to fear. "Nothing? Ayla, this is fate! I'm already planning the wedding."
I groaned. I didn't need Gia's brand of drama, but the universe seemed to disagree. Later that afternoon, she shouted my name across the crowded hall. I froze, my stomach doing a slow somersault.
And then I saw him. Kai was looking right at me. He wasn't giving me one of those bored, polite smiles he gave the girls who confessed to him. This was real—warm, teasing, and utterly devastating.
For one fleeting second, I let myself wonder: *Could he actually see me?*
Summoning a spark of courage I didn't know I possessed, I tried to sit near him during the next period. But Kai didn't stay. Instead, he called **Leo** over to take the seat beside me, moving away with a calculated distance.
The heat rushed to my cheeks. The sting of embarrassment was sharp, a knot forming in my gut. *Fine,* I thought, staring at my notebook until the ink blurred. *I'm done.* No more dreams. No more looking.
But later that day, as I glanced up by accident, I caught him mid-sentence. He was talking to Leo, but his eyes were locked on mine.
"She saw me... yaaay," he said, his voice a playful drawl.
Leo laughed, but I felt like I was disappearing. I told **Clara** later, hoping for logic. She just whispered, "He likes you, Ayla. Believe me."
I didn't believe her. I was tired of the games. But then, in the final hour of school, I looked up from my desk. He wasn't smiling anymore. He was just... staring. It wasn't a joke or a tease. It was a look that felt like it was reaching for something deep inside me.
My benchmate, **Daisy**, leaned in and whispered, "Is he looking at us or the wall?"
"I don't know," I lied, my voice trembling.