The cafeteria was alive with chaos—laughter bouncing off walls, trays clattering, people darting between tables with half-eaten pizza and gossip that spread faster than wildfire. Lynn usually sat with her group near the corner, where the noise felt a little less sharp. But today, she sat alone.
By choice.
Well, sort of.
She saw him the moment he walked in. Alex—hair a little messy, hoodie slightly too big, carrying his tray like he didn't care where he ended up. He scanned the room, clearly new enough that he hadn't found a pack yet. His eyes flicked past her table.
Then paused.
And landed.
She held his gaze.
A beat. Then two.
Then, just like that, he was walking toward her.
Lynn didn't blink. Didn't let her smile give anything away. But her heart? That traitor was doing backflips.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked, nodding toward the empty spot across from her.
"It is now," she said.
He smiled. "Smooth."
"You like smooth?"
"I like honest more."
Lynn tilted her head. "Then why did you hesitate before coming over?"
Alex blinked at her. Then grinned. "Caught that, huh?"
"I catch everything," she said. "Especially hesitation."
He sat down, unbothered. "Fair. I wasn't sure if I'd be welcome."
"You're not. But I'm bored."
He laughed, low and genuine. "You always this charming?"
"Only for people who say interesting things."
"Guess I better step up, then."
They started eating. For a moment, silence slipped in—not awkward, but full of weight. Alex poked at the mashed potatoes with his fork.
"So," he said, glancing up, "what's your deal?"
"My deal?" Lynn raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. You're not like the others here. You walk like the hall belongs to you. But you also sit alone, stare out windows, and challenge people you barely know."
Lynn smirked. "You've been watching me?"
"Of course," he said, without shame. "How else would I know your walk is different?"
She felt heat crawl up her neck but didn't let it show. "Maybe I like making people guess."
"Maybe I don't like guessing."
She put her fork down. "You really don't pull punches, do you?"
"I moved here to stop hiding," he said. "So no. I don't."
Lynn leaned in slightly, elbows on the table. "Then let's not hide, Alex. Tell me something real."
He stared at her. Not the casual stare guys do when they want to look cool. It was focused. Deep. Like he was reading between her words.
"I don't like small talk," he said.
"Good," she replied. "Neither do I."
"I miss my old life. But not the people."
Lynn nodded slowly. "Same."
"My dad moved us here because of a promotion. I didn't get a say. I had to leave someone behind."
There it was.
Lynn didn't flinch. "Someone?"
He exhaled. "Yeah. A friend. Maybe more. But it was ending anyway."
She didn't ask more. Not yet. "You still think about her?"
"Sometimes," he said. "But not when I'm around you."
Lynn's chest tightened.
She didn't know if he was just being bold, or if he meant it. And it scared her how much she wanted him to mean it.
"Well," she said, picking up her juice. "You're good at this."
"At what?"
"Saying things girls want to hear."
He shook his head. "I don't care what you want to hear. I say what I mean."
She took a long sip, then smiled. "Dangerous."
"You like danger?"
"I like real."
He leaned in now, eyes sharp. "Then here's real. I saw you on the first day and thought: She knows who she is. I want to know her too."
Lynn's throat went dry.
"That's a lot," she whispered.
"It's just enough," he said.
The bell rang, loud and jarring, like reality crashing through a perfect dream. Students stood, tables scraped, the moment threatened to disappear into the noise.
Alex stood first, but before he left, he looked down at her and said one more thing:
"I'll walk you to class tomorrow."
She nodded, heart thudding.
He walked away.
And for the first time, Lynn realized something terrifying and wonderful.
She wasn't just watching him anymore.
She was waiting for him.