Episode 4
1382 Words
A STUDY IN CLOSE PROXIMITY
By Thursday, Eden felt the change ripple through the school like a rogue current. It wasn’t a loud announcement or a dramatic confrontation—it was whispers. Whispers in the halls. In the bathrooms. Between locker slams and lunch trays.
“Did you hear about Eden and Aiden?”
“No way. She's not even his type.”
“She must be tutoring him or something.”
Eden didn’t need anyone to confirm what she already suspected: Aiden Cross wasn’t a boy you got close to without the world noticing. And somehow, she had let herself drift closer.
That morning, as she pushed open her locker, Jade stood beside her with narrowed eyes and a set jaw.
“You and Aiden Cross?” she asked without greeting.
Eden blinked. “No.”
Jade crossed her arms. “Then why was he sitting next to you in the library? And again in the student lounge yesterday? Alone. With you.”
“We’re not a thing,” Eden said firmly, biting back her fluster. “He’s just... talking to me. Like a normal person.”
“Since when is Aiden Cross normal?” Jade muttered, slamming her locker shut.
Eden didn’t reply. She didn’t know how to explain it—not even to herself. Something about the way he looked at her now felt less like a dare and more like an invitation. But if she admitted that, if she so much as entertained it, then what?
She wasn’t the kind of girl Aiden went for. And she wasn’t about to become the school’s next social headline just for falling for a smile.
It happened during last period—Mr. Hall’s English Literature class.
Eden had been silently scribbling notes when the sound of paper ripping behind her broke her concentration. A few seconds later, a balled-up note bounced off her desk.
She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.
She opened it anyway.
“You’re awfully quiet today. Missing my attention already?”
She rolled her eyes and scribbled a response.
“Trying to pay attention to the lesson. You should try it sometime.”
She tossed it over her shoulder, not looking back. A minute later, the note landed again, now flatter, smoother, and much bolder.
“Meet me after school. Room 12B. Study session. Just us.”
Eden felt heat crawl up her neck. She tucked the note into her notebook quickly, but the movement caught Mr. Hall’s attention.
“Miss Granger,” he said, voice clipped. “Since you and Mr. Cross are so invested in written communication, perhaps you'd like to continue that in detention?”
A few chuckles followed.
Eden flushed. Aiden—still slouched in his seat—shot her a lopsided grin and raised his hands in mock surrender.
Eden stood in the doorway of Room 12B ten minutes after the final bell, still not sure if she should even be there. It wasn’t technically a classroom—more like a forgotten staff office turned storage space. But the door was unlocked, and the light was on.
Aiden sat on the teacher’s desk, swinging one leg and fiddling with a pen like he hadn’t a care in the world.
“You came,” he said, clearly pleased.
“I shouldn’t have,” Eden said, shutting the door behind her anyway.
“But you did,” he pointed out. “Which is progress, don’t you think?”
Eden crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “You got me detention.”
“You looked bored,” Aiden said innocently. “I thought I’d liven things up.”
She groaned. “You are unbelievable.”
Aiden tilted his head. “And yet, here we are.”
A thick silence fell over them, and for once, Eden didn’t know what to say. The tension wasn’t hostile—it was heavier, warmer. Like something unspoken had taken root and neither of them wanted to name it.
“You know,” Aiden said finally, “I used to think you were just... a know-it-all. Cold. Untouchable.”
“And now?”
“I still think you’re untouchable,” he admitted. “But not cold. Just guarded. And smart. Too smart to be wasting your time with someone like me.”
Eden looked at him then—really looked. Beneath the smugness, the sharp tongue, there was vulnerability. And that scared her more than anything.
“You're not a waste of time,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
His eyes locked with hers, startled.
Neither of them moved.
And then, slowly, cautiously, Aiden slid off the desk and stepped closer. He stopped when he was right in front of her, their shoes almost touching.
“You’re blushing,” he murmured.
Eden’s breath hitched. “Shut up.”
His smirk returned, softer now. “You make it hard.”
And just like that, the walls cracked a little more.
After that afternoon, something between them changed again—but this time, it wasn’t dramatic. It was quieter. Aiden still teased her, still hovered at the edge of her routine, but now it felt deliberate, intentional.
They sat together more often. Walked the same halls after class. Shared silence in the library.
But Eden hadn’t told her friends—not even Zoey. Not when the judgment from Jade still lingered in her ears.
She wasn’t ready to explain what this was. She wasn’t sure she even knew.
Then came Friday.
She was helping Mrs. Larson set up for the academic club’s weekend fair when she heard the familiar voice behind her.
“I thought you only volunteered for things that included books and no people.”
Eden turned to see Aiden leaning against the folding table, arms crossed.
“I have layers,” she replied coolly.
“You should let me see more of them.”
Her cheeks warmed again.
“I have to finish this,” she said, pointing at the box of flyers.
“I’ll help,” he offered.
Eden blinked. “You? Volunteer? Who are you and what did you do to Aiden Cross?”
“I’m complex,” he said, mock hurt.
They spent the next hour handing out flyers and arguing over the best poster designs. For a moment, it felt... normal. Sweet. Almost too good to be real.
And then, it wasn’t.
As they packed up, a teacher passed by. Mr. Browning, the psychology instructor. He paused and frowned at Aiden.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said. “Still trying to make up for last semester’s stunt?”
Aiden’s posture stiffened. “Just helping out.”
Mr. Browning didn’t seem convinced. “Right. Keep at it, Cross.”
He walked off.
Eden stared at Aiden. “What stunt?”
Aiden looked away. “Nothing. Just... I used to be kind of a mess. It’s not a big deal.”
She could feel the walls going back up.
“You don’t have to pretend with me,” she said.
He looked at her then. Really looked. “And you don’t have to save me, Eden.”
That night, she lay awake thinking about the boy with the charming smirk and the broken edges he kept trying to hide.
Saturday came too quickly, bringing with it the club fair and a sea of students Eden barely recognized. She worked the booth with Zoey, trying to keep her head down. But every so often, her eyes searched the crowd.
He showed up halfway through the day, holding two sodas and wearing a jacket that made him look older, more like the college students who sometimes came back to visit.
“Brought you something,” he said, handing her a drink.
Eden blinked. “Thanks.”
“You're blushing again.”
She glared. “It’s warm out.”
He leaned closer. “You know what your blushes do to me?”
Her mouth went dry.
“I’ll stop,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “But only because I’m trying to be a better person.”
Eden smiled, a little. Just a little. And he smiled back.
It was dangerous.
It was wonderful.
And it was the beginning of something she wasn’t sure she could control.
- Writer
