Episode 1:THE LOOK THAT LINGERS
590 Words
Amina had mastered the art of disappearing in plain sight.
She sat in the back row of the lecture hall, notebook open, pen moving, eyes focused anywhere but on the people around her. That was how she survived—quiet, observant, unnoticed. College was loud, expressive, full of people who knew exactly who they were and weren’t afraid to show it. Amina wasn’t one of them.
She never had been.
The lecture droned on about theories she barely absorbed, her mind wandering the way it always did when she was tired of pretending. She adjusted the strap of her bag against her shoulder and exhaled slowly, counting her breaths like she always did when the room felt too full.
Then she felt it.
That strange, unsettling awareness—like someone was looking at her.
Amina lifted her eyes without thinking.
Across the aisle, two rows ahead, sat a girl she had never seen before.
She was leaning back casually, one arm draped over the chair beside her, her posture relaxed in a way that immediately drew attention. Her locs were pulled back loosely, a few strands escaping around her face. She wasn’t pretending to listen to the lecture at all. Instead, her gaze was locked on Amina.
Not staring. Not rude.
Just… intentional.
Amina’s breath caught.
The girl’s lips curved slightly, not quite a smile, more like she knew something Amina didn’t. Then, as if the moment had lasted long enough, she looked away—smooth, unbothered—like she hadn’t just turned Amina’s chest upside down.
Heat crept up Amina’s neck.
Get it together, she scolded herself, dropping her gaze back to her notebook. But her handwriting faltered, her thoughts scattering.
She told herself it was nothing. Just a look. Just a stranger.
But something about that moment clung to her.
When the lecture finally ended, chairs scraped and students poured out of the hall in noisy clusters. Amina packed up quickly, eager to escape before the feeling followed her any further.
She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder—
—and nearly collided with someone.
“Whoa. Sorry.”
The voice was warm. Confident. Too close.
Amina froze.
It was her.
Up close, the girl was even more distracting. Sharp eyes. Easy confidence. A presence that filled the space without effort.
“It’s okay,” Amina said quickly, stepping back. Her voice was soft, almost swallowed by the noise around them.
The girl tilted her head slightly, studying her. “You always leave this fast?”
Amina blinked. “What?”
She smiled now—fully this time. “The lecture. You bolted.”
“Oh. I—” Amina hesitated, then shrugged. “Habit.”
“Hmm.” The girl hummed like she found that interesting. “I’m Zuri.”
There it was. A name. Suddenly this wasn’t just a moment anymore.
“Amina,” she replied, barely above a murmur.
Zuri repeated it, slow and deliberate. “Amina.”
Something about the way she said it made Amina’s stomach flip.
They stood there awkwardly, the flow of students breaking around them like water. Amina shifted her weight, unsure what to do with her hands, her thoughts, her heart that was suddenly beating too fast.
“Well,” Zuri said, stepping aside to let people pass, “maybe I’ll see you around.”
Maybe.
Amina nodded, unable to trust her voice.
As she walked away, she told herself not to look back.
She failed.
Zuri was watching her go.
And this time, she didn’t look away
- Writer
