Before Him, After Him

Episode Three-- Warnings and Whispers

The next morning came too quickly, sunlight slicing through my blinds like it was out to punish me for staying awake so late. My body ached with exhaustion, but my brain wouldn't slow down. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him--the curve of his jaw in the half-light, the smoke curling from his lips, the words he left with me:

The kind that'll make you regret ever knowing me.

I couldn't scrub them from my head.

Dragging myself, downstairs, I found mom already in her usual place at the kitchen table, coffee steaming, latop open, glasses perched on her nose. She looked up when she heard me, eyebrows lifting in that sharp, motherly way.

"You're up late," she said.

I pulled a granola bar from the cabinet. "Couldn't sleep."

"Your light was on past midnight. Don't tell me you were on t****k again."

I forced a small laugh. "Homework."

Her expression softened only slightly. "You've got to take care of yourself, Em. Senior year isn't the time to burn out. College applications are coming."

The word "college" hung between us, heavy and suffocating. I just nodded, shoved the granola bar into my backpack, and slipped out before she could dig deeper.

By the time I got to school, the halls were already buzzing with whispers.

I didn't even have to ask who they were about.

"He broke a guy's nose at Ridgeview."

"No, he brought a knife to school. That's why he got expelled."

"I heard he spent a night in juvie. My cousin swears it's true."

The voices swirled around me like static, following me all the way to my locker. I slammed it shut harder than I meant to, and the noise drew Tessa over instantly, slipping from her ridiculous neon pink water bottle.

"Morning, sunshine," she chirped. "So, have you heard the latest? Apparently Asher Hale is some kind of mafia prince." She rolled her eyes. "People really need new hobbies."

I tried to laugh, but it came out thin. "That's... dramatic."

"Please. This school invents drama when it gets bored. Remember when everyone thought Mr.Keller was having an affair with the cafeteria lady?" She giggled. "Spoiler he wasn't. She just made him free cookies."

I shook my head, smiling despite the unease knotting in my stomach. Tessa could laugh it off, but everywhere I went, the whispers crawled under my skin.

In the bathroom, two cheerleaders leaned over the sink, lip gloss wands flashing.

"He's hot, sure. But danger hot."

"Yeah. Trouble in leather. Not my type."

Their laughter echoed, sharp against the tiles, and I ducked out before they noticed me.

But the worst came later, right at my locker between classes. Jason Miller, with his smug grin and too-strong cologne, leaned against the metal door beside mine.

"James," he drawled, like we were old friends. "Friendly advice: stay away from Hale."

I froze, tightening my grip on the steap of my backpack. "Excuse me?"

Jason smirked like he was doing me some kind of favor. "Guys like him don't care who they hurt. Don't waste your time."

Heat crawled up my neck. "And since when is my time your buisness?"

He held up his hands, pretneding innocence. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Then he walked off, leaving me standing there, face burning, heart thudding with anger I didn't know what to do with.

They didn't know him. None of them did.

But... neither did I.

The libarary was supposed to be safe. Quiet. Predictable.

Rows of books that never changed, the faint hum of the old fluroescent lights, the smell of dust and paper that wrapped round me like a blanket. It was the one place at school where the noise of everyone else's lives couldn't swallow me whole.

Except today, it wasn't quiet.

Today, he was there.

Asher sat at a corner table near the back, leaning over a notebook with his hood pulled halfway down his face. His pencil moved fast, almost angry, like he was carving secrets into the page. No one else was near him--the empty chairs around him forming a kind of invisible barrier.

I should have walked past. Found my usual seat near the windows. Pretended I didn't notice him.

But my feet betrayed me.

I slipped into the chair across from him before I even realized what I was doing. The scratch of his pencil stopped, and he looked up slowly, dark eyes meeting mine.

My throat went dry.

"Hi," I said, barely audible.

His gaze lingered on me like he was trying to decide if I was real or just another interruption. Finally, he said, "You're brave."

I blinked. "What?"

"Everyone else..." His hand lifted slightly, gesturing to the empty seats around us. "They avoid me. Like I've got a disease."

Something in my chest tightened. "maybe they just don't know you."

His mouth twitched--not quite a smile, not quiet a frown. "And you do?"

"No," I admitted, fingers twisting in my lap. "But I... want to."

For a long moment, he didn't answer. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until I thought I'd made a huge mistake. Then finally, he closed the notebook, sliding it aside.

"Careful, Emery."

The way he said my name made my pulse stutter.

"Careful of what?" I asked, though my voice shook.

H eleaned back, studying me like I was some puzzle he wasn't sure he wanted to solve. "Getting close. People don't usually like what they find."

The words should have scared me. SHould have made me pack up my things and leave him to his shadows.

But instead, all I could think was how tired he sounded, like he was warning me to protect me... not himself.

And against every bit of logic I had, I whispered, "Maybe I'm not like other people."

For the first time, something shifted in his expression. A c***k in the armor. His eyes softened--just for a second--before the mask slipped back into place.

He looked away, back at his notebook, and murmured, "You have no idea what you're saying."

But I did. Or at least, I wanted to.

The silence pressed down again, thicker than before, His pencil tapped against the table, sharp and uneven, like a heartbeat that didn't know whether to slow down or speed up.

I folded my hands tightly to keep from fidgeting. "What were you writing."

His head tilted slightly, dark hair falling over one eye. "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't," I blurtted, too fast. Then, softer, "I just... wondered."

He studied me for so long I thought he might actually answer. But instead, he slid the notebook closer to himself, fingers resting protectively over the cover.

"Not for you," he said.

The word stung, even though I knew they weren't meant to. "Right. Sorry."

His brow furrowed--like he hadn't expected me to apologize, liek the idea of someone shrinking back from him wasn't what he wanted.

"You don't need to do that," he muttered.

"Do what?"

"Apologize for breathing."

My face heated. "I wasn't--"

"You were." His voice was low, certain. Then he leaned forward, elbows braced on the table, his gaze pinning me in place. "You don't get it, Emery. People like you--quiet, careful, good--you don't belong anywhere near people like me."

I should have left. That was the logical response.

But instead, I whispered, "Maybe I don't like belong anywhere else either."

His expression faltered. A c***k. His jaw worked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. He sat back slowly, dragging a hand over his face.

"Dangerous thing to say."

I didn't reply. Couldn't. Because every word he spoke only pulled me in deeper.

The libarian's voice broke the tension. "Five minutes 'til close!"

I jumped, shoving my books into my bag. Asher didn't move, just flicked his pencil back open and bent over his notebook again.

"Goodnight," I murmured, standing.

He didn't answer. But as I walked away, I swore I heard him whisper something under his breath. My name.

AFTER SCHOOL

The air outside was cooler, dusk creeping in with streaks of purple across the sky. Tessa was already waiting by the bike racks, scrolling on her phone.

"Finally!" she groaned. "What took you so long? I've been dying out here."

"Library," I said quickly, pulling my jacket tighter.

She narrowed her eyes. "Library? Em, you don't stay late unless you're hiding from me."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not hiding."

She tucked her phone away, giving me a look sharp enough to cut through every excuse I hadn't said yet. "This is about him, isn't it?"

I felt my face burn. "You're imagining things."

"Emery James," she said, using my full name like a threat. "I've known you since kindergarten. You don't glance at anyone unless they matter."

I couldn't argue with that.

We started walking, the crunch of gravel under our shoes filling the silence I didn't know how to break. Finally, Tessa sighed.

"Just... be careful, okay? I've heard things about him."

My chest tighetened. "What kind of things?"

"Fights. Suspension. Someone said he almost got arrested." Her voice dropped lower, like the words themselves were dangerous. "Guys like that? They don't change, Em. They break hearts, and worse."

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile I didn't feel. "It's not like that."

"Good." She looped her arm through mine, smiling back. "Because you deserve someone who actually deserves you."

Her words should have settled me. Should have made me believe she was right.

But all I could think about was the way Asher had said my name in the library, quiet and almost like a confession.

The house was quiet when I got home, the kind of quiet that presses against your ears until you can hear your own heartbeat. Mom had already gone to bed, her stack of graded papers left neatly on the counter.

I tiptoed past, apple in hand, and slipped into my room.

The ceiling greeted me like alays--cracked lines that I used to trace with my eyes when I couldn't sleep. Tonight, they looked different. Like they'd shifted somehow. Or maybe it was just me.

I pulled my journal from the nightstand and flipped to a blank page. My pen hovered for a long time before I finally wrote:

He said I should be careful.

I stared at the words. They looked to small for the weight they carried.

Careful of what?

I taped the pen against the page. My brain spun, replaying the scene in the library--his eyes locked on mine, the warning in his voice, the way my name sounded when he said it.

No one had ever said my name like that.

I pressed the pen harder against the paper, the ink bleeding.

He's hiding something. I know it. And I should stay away.

A pause.

But I don't want to.

I slammed the journal shut before I coul write anything else.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, lighting up the dark room. I frowned, reaching for it. Tessa? No--it was too late for her.

The number was unknown.

One message.

Unknown: You shouldn't look at me the way you do.

My breath caught in my throat.

I stared at the screen, my fingers frozen above the keyboard. A hundred questions screamed in my head. Who was this? How did they get my number? But deep down, I already knew.

I typed back slowly.

Me: Asher?

The reply came almost instantly.

Unknown: Don't text back.

And then, nothing.

The screen stayed dark, my reflection staring back at me. My chest ached with too many things at once--fear, curiousity, a pull I didn't know how to fight.

I curled up under the blanket, clutching the phone to my chest like it might explain itself.

But it didn't.

And as sleep finally dragged me under, one truth echoed in my head, louder than anything else:

There was no going back.