Chapter Four: The Confession
737 Words
The library was nearly empty.
Rain tapped softly against the tall windows.
Rows of books stretched into shadow.
At the center table sat Lyra Averell and Scarlett Sterling.
Three days ago, they would have been laughing.
Now they barely spoke.
Scarlett turned another page.
The silence was unbearable.
Across from her, Lyra filled an entire notebook with calculations.
No hesitation.
No mistakes.
Just line after line of impossible brilliance.
Scarlett watched her for a moment.
Then another.
Eventually she stopped pretending to read.
"Lyra."
No answer.
The silver pen continued moving.
"Lyra."
This time the pen stopped.
Slowly.
"What?"
The single word was enough to make Scarlett flinch.
Not because it was cruel.
Because it was cold.
"I just want to understand."
Lyra looked down at her notes again.
"Understand what?"
"Why you're doing this."
Silence.
The rain grew louder.
Scarlett swallowed.
"We used to tell each other everything."
The pen tightened in Lyra's hand.
"People change."
"Not overnight."
That finally got a reaction.
Lyra looked up.
Their eyes met.
For one dangerous second, Scarlett saw something beneath the ice.
Something raw.
Something hurt.
Then it disappeared.
The library doors opened.
Both girls looked away immediately.
A boy walked inside.
Thomas Harrington.
Tall.
Confident.
Popular.
The kind of boy mothers adored.
Unfortunately for him, he looked terrified.
Scarlett frowned.
"Thomas?"
His grip tightened around a small velvet box.
"Can I talk to you?"
Lyra's jaw clenched.
Thomas didn't even glance at her.
His entire world seemed focused on Scarlett.
"I'll be quick."
Scarlett looked confused.
"Okay?"
Thomas took a breath.
Then another.
Then finally
"I like you."
The words echoed through the quiet library.
Scarlett blinked.
Across the table, Lyra's pen stopped moving.
Thomas continued.
"I've liked you for years."
Scarlett opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
"You don't have to answer right now."
He laughed nervously.
"I just couldn't keep pretending anymore."
The silence that followed felt endless.
Lyra stared at the notebook in front of her.
The lines had blurred.
She couldn't read a single word.
Not anymore.
Because all she could hear was:
I've liked you for years.
Years.
At least Thomas got to say it.
Lyra stood abruptly.
The chair scraped across the floor.
Both of them looked up.
"Lyra?"
Scarlett sounded startled.
Lyra shoved her books into her bag.
"I'm leaving."
Scarlett stood.
"Wait"
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Too sharply.
Lyra swung the bag over her shoulder.
For a brief second, her eyes landed on Thomas.Then Scarlett.
Then away.
And that somehow hurts most of all.
Without another word, she walked out.
The library doors slammed shut behind her.
The sound echoed through the room.
Thomas looked awkward.
Scarlett barely noticed.
Her eyes remained fixed on the doorway.
Something about Lyra's reaction felt wrong.
Very wrong.
"Scarlett?"
Thomas's voice pulled her back.
She looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Handsome.
Kind.
Successful.
Exactly the sort of boy everyone expected her to date.
She felt absolutely nothing.
"I'm sorry."
His face fell.
"I don't feel that way."
A few minutes later, Scarlett found herself walking through the senior wing.
Not toward the car park.
Not toward home.
Toward Lyra.
She wasn't entirely sure why.
The corridors are almost empty now.
Rain light spilled across the stone floors.
Then she stopped.
A classroom door stood slightly open.
Inside, Lyra wasn't alone.
A younger girl stood beside her.
Pretty.
Dark-haired.
Laughing.
Scarlett couldn't hear the conversation.
But she saw enough.
The girl's hand rested on Lyra's arm.
Lyra didn't move away.
A second later, Lyra smiled.
A real smile.
The kind she hadn't given Scarlett in weeks.
Something twisted sharply inside Scarlett's chest.
She hated it.
The feeling.
The sight.
The fact that she couldn't look away.
The junior girl stepped closer.
Too close.
Scarlett turned immediately.
Her footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Fast.
Almost angry.
By the time she reached the staircase, she was breathing harder than she should have been.
Why?
Why did it matter?
Why did she care?
Back in the classroom, Lyra happened to glance toward the door.
Just in time to catch a glimpse of blonde hair disappearing around the corner.
Scarlett.
For a moment, Lyra frowned.
Then I looked back at the junior.
Then back toward the empty hallway.
A strange feeling settled in her stomach.
Because unless she was imagining things, Scarlett Sterling had looked jealous.
And that thought followed Lyra all the way home.
- Writer
