I saw him before he saw me.
Damian. Standing by my locker like he belonged there. Like he wasn’t the reason my pulse had been unsteady since morning. Like the entire world wasn’t tilting too far in his direction every time I even thought about him.
He was leaning against the metal door, one ankle crossed over the other, arms folded, head tilted slightly down as if he were reading something on his phone. Except he wasn’t. His screen was off. His eyes weren’t really focused on anything.
He was waiting.
For me.
My steps slowed without permission, my backpack suddenly heavier on my shoulders. There was no reason for my stomach to twist like it was wringing itself out. No reason for the small breath that caught in my throat. It was just Damian. Just the boy who confused me, frustrated me,
