The bell rang, but neither of us moved.
Fifth period was about to start. Algebra for me. Some kind of World History for Braxton.
But we both stood by the drinking fountain outside the library like statues… waiting. Watching. Caught in a current only we could feel.
“I don’t want to go to class,” he muttered.
“Me neither,” I whispered.
He reached for my hand without asking. Warm, rough and steady. “Come on.”
We slipped through the wide wooden doors of the library as a group of freshmen exited, laughing and clueless.
The librarian barely looked up from her desk. She was used to kids sneaking in to nap between shelves or do last-minute homework.
Not… this. Not like us who felt too much in the silence.
Braxton led me deep between the forgotten sections, past the damaged encyclopedia
