Getting Closer
508 Words
After that morning, things between Kade and me quietly changed.
We didn’t suddenly become close or talk all the time. But we started sharing small moments—moments that felt important even though no one else noticed them.
Sometimes, we walked together after school. Not all the way home, just far enough to talk. Other times, we sat near each other in class. When our hands brushed, neither of us pulled away too quickly.
I started to see a side of Kade no one talked about.
He listened when I spoke. Really listened. He remembered small things—my favorite subject, the way I liked quiet places, how I hated crowded hallways. When I laughed, his eyes softened. When I was quiet, he didn’t push me to speak.
But the closer we got, the louder the rumors became.
Girls stared at me more often now. Some whispered when I passed. Others smiled at me in ways that didn’t feel kind.
One afternoon, a girl I barely knew stepped in front of me.
“You think you’re different?” she asked.
I froze. “Different from what?”
“From the others,” she said. “Kade doesn’t change. He just drags people down.”
Her words hurt more than I expected.
Later that day, I found Kade behind the school building, sitting alone. His shoulders were tense, like he was carrying something heavy.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He looked up, surprised. “I should be asking you that.”
I sat beside him, keeping a small distance.
“People are talking,” I said softly.
“They always do,” he replied.
“But it’s different now,” I said. “They talk about us.”
He went quiet.
“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me,” he said after a moment. “You don’t deserve that.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“You didn’t ask me to care,” I said. “I chose to.”
He looked at me, eyes full of emotion he wasn’t used to showing.
That day, I realized something important.
Kade wasn’t afraid of the rumors.
He was afraid of hurting me.
The next morning, something unexpected happened.
Kade didn’t sit near me.
He kept his distance. He didn’t look my way. When I tried to catch his eyes, he looked down instead.
It hurt more than the whispers ever did.
After school, I finally stopped him.
“Why are you pushing me away?” I asked.
He sighed. “Because I care.”
I swallowed hard. “Then stop protecting me from something I’m willing to face.”
He looked at me for a long moment, like he was deciding something important.
“Being close to me isn’t easy,” he said.
“I know,” I replied. “But I’m still here.”
For the first time, he smiled fully—slow and real.
And in that moment, I knew:
Getting closer to Kade wasn’t safe.
But walking away from him felt impossible.
- Writer
