I Know What You Are
1179 Words
As Christina drove them toward the ceremony, Danielle stared out the window, watching the town pass by. The streets looked the same as they always had, but everything felt different—like she was supposed to feel something profound, some grand sense of an ending. But all she felt was the dull weight of obligation.
Christina, on the other hand, was buzzing with energy. “I can’t believe it’s actually here,” she said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “Twelve years, and now we’re just... done.”
Danielle hummed in response, not sure what to say. It didn’t feel like much of an ending to her—just another thing happening, another thing to move past.
When they arrived, Christina’s parents were already there, waving from the crowd. Danielle followed Christina to their seats on the field, adjusting the stiff graduation cap as they sat down. The air was thick and heavy, the sun beating down relentlessly. Within minutes, a trickle of sweat slid down her spine, sticking the cheap polyester gown to her skin.
From the stage, the school band struck up a painfully off-key rendition of Pomp and Circumstance. Danielle winced as the brass section fumbled a note, but no one else seemed to care. Parents beamed with pride, students whispered and fidgeted, and the principal droned on with the usual speech about bright futures and limitless potential.
Danielle barely listened. She was too busy resisting the urge to tug at her collar, too busy counting down the minutes until she could take this stupid gown off—until she felt it.
A presence.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. There were people all around her, sure, but this felt different. Too close.
Then, just as she shifted in her seat, a voice brushed against her ear. Low, quiet. Almost like a breath.
"I know what you are."
Danielle froze.
Her grip tightened on the edges of her chair, her stomach twisting into knots. Slowly, she turned her head just enough to glance behind her.
Seth.
He sat directly behind her, his expression unreadable, his striking blue eyes locked onto hers. He didn’t look smug or teasing like yesterday. Just... certain.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
What did he mean?
The first, most obvious thought crashed through her mind—he knew she was homeless. That she had no real address, no parents, no future lined up like everyone else. Had he figured it out somehow? Did she look that out of place?
Heat crept up her neck, but she forced herself to turn away, pretending she hadn’t heard him.
She faced forward, fixing her eyes on the stage, trying to focus on the monotonous speech. But she couldn’t. The words I know what you are echoed in her head, over and over again.
And behind her, she could still feel Seth’s gaze, watching her.
Danielle clenched her jaw, staring straight ahead as the principal’s voice blurred into meaningless noise.
Her heart pounded—not from excitement, not from anticipation, but from something cold and ugly curling in her stomach.
He wasn’t looking at me because he liked me.
The thought hit harder than it should have.
Christina had teased her, insisted that Seth was watching her because he was interested, that maybe, for once, someone had noticed her in a good way. But that wasn’t it at all, was it?
He wasn’t looking at her because she was pretty. Or funny. Or smart. Or any of the things Christina always said.
He was judging her.
Somehow, in some way, he had figured out the truth—that she wasn’t like everyone else sitting here in their stiff, uncomfortable gowns, eager to toss their caps in the air and rush off to college or some picture-perfect future.
She was different. A stray. A girl with no parents, no real home, no plans beyond surviving.
Her throat tightened, and suddenly, she felt sick.
Why did it bother her so much?
She barely knew Seth. He wasn’t her friend. She didn’t like him.
So why did it sting?
The crowd erupted into applause as the first name was called, but Danielle barely heard it. She sat rigid in her seat, staring straight ahead, forcing herself to breathe evenly.
She didn’t care what he thought.
She didn’t.
But behind her, she could still feel his eyes on her, and no matter how much she told herself otherwise, it mattered. It mattered too much.
Eventually, her name was called, and for a solid three seconds, she just… sat there. Unable to move.
People looked at her.
Christina nudged her—not gently—whispering, “Danielle, go.”
Only then had she jolted to her feet, cheeks burning as she hurried across the stage. The principal gave her a weird look as he handed over the diploma, and she could feel the murmurs behind her as she walked back to her seat.
The whole time, she swore she could feel him staring.
Why had she gotten so caught up in what he’d said? In what he thought about her? It was eating at her in a way she couldn't explain. She never let anyone get to her like this. Why did she care about him?
As soon as the ceremony ended, Danielle ripped off her cap, letting the warm breeze hit her face. Everyone around her was throwing their caps in the air, but hers hung from her fingers by her side. The air still felt thick, though—too heavy, too charged. She needed to say something. To do something.
Christina was already gushing about the party as they weaved through the crowd toward the parking lot, her gown billowing behind her. Danielle tried to listen, but her mind was stuck on him.
The way he’d whispered in her ear, the way his words clung to her skin like a bad omen.
"I know what you are."
She shivered.
“Hey, um…” Danielle hesitated, glancing toward Christina. “About the party—”
Christina turned to her with a wide grin. “It’s gonna be great, right? I just know it! Oh, and Seth said he’ll be there.”
Danielle's stomach twisted. “Actually, I was thinking…” But she stopped herself.
What was she going to say? Uninvite him because he weirds me out? Because he said something cryptic that’s probably nothing? It would sound ridiculous. Worse, it would make her look like she cared. And she didn’t. Did she?
She shook her head lightly to clear it.
“Thinking what?” Christina pressed.
Danielle forced a shrug. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Christina just rolled her eyes, linking their arms together as they made their way to the car. “You are so weird sometimes.”
Danielle huffed out a breath, but the unease didn’t fade. She should have told Christina. She should have said something. But it was too late now. Seth was coming, whether she liked it or not. And she had no idea what that meant.
- Writer
