Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Four: Unseen Strings

The next morning, Amara spent more time in front of the mirror than usual.

She had never been one for makeup. She still wasn’t. But she adjusted her curls more carefully, chose a newer hoodie instead of her usual oversized sweaters, and hesitated longer than necessary before picking a pair of jeans.

It bothered her.

She shook her head and reached for her bag before she could overthink it. It wasn’t about Malik. At least, that was what she told herself. Still, something inside her felt different, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that change.

The campus buzzed with its usual noise as Amara arrived. She moved through the crowd quietly until she stopped short at her locker.

A small chocolate bar and a folded note were tucked neatly inside.

Since today might be rough too.

Hmmmm

Her heart skipped. She glanced around, but Malik was nowhere in sight.

Moments later, Tasha appeared beside her.

“What’s that?” she asked, reaching for the note before Amara could hide it.

Amara shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Nothing. Just a joke.”

Tasha raised an eyebrow. “You? Getting notes?”

Amara stayed quiet.

Tasha smiled knowingly. “It’s Malik, isn’t it?”

“Don’t start,” Amara muttered.

“I’m not,” Tasha said, her tone softening. “Just be careful. He’s… complicated.”

The words stayed with Amara long after they parted. She could not tell whether it was concern, jealousy, or something else entirely.

Later that afternoon, Malik was waiting near the walkway again, just as calm and unbothered as before.

“Did the chocolate help?” he asked.

She smiled despite herself. “A little.”

He held out a small paper bag. “I figured we could skip the cafeteria today. Just for a bit.”

She hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing strange,” he said lightly. “Just a walk. Somewhere quieter.”

Against her better judgment, she agreed.

They sat on the far end of the bleachers, away from the noise. Malik asked about her old school, her favorite books, and what she hoped to do someday. He listened carefully, not interrupting, not rushing her.

For the first time in a long while, Amara felt heard.

Then she noticed someone watching.

Across the field stood a girl, her gaze sharp and unreadable.

Tasha.

Their eyes met. Tasha froze for a moment, then turned and walked away quickly.

Amara’s chest tightened.

The warmth she had felt moments earlier faded into unease.

Something was wrong.

She could feel it.