Chapter 3: It Shouldn’t Matter 🔥
1092 Words
Chyell didn’t notice it at first. The way Charlie looked at her.
Not directly. Never directly. But always somehow there. It showed up in small moments.
When she laughed with Rosé and felt, for a split second, like someone else was watching, she turned suddenly and found him already looking away.
The silence sitting between them was not empty, but filled with something she couldn’t quite understand.
Still, if you asked her, she would’ve said the same thing.
Charlie didn’t like her.
“Chyell!” Rosé’s voice cut through the morning noise as she dropped into the seat in front of her, full of energy as always. “I have news.”
Chyell smiled. “That sounds dangerous.”
“It is. For you.”
“… That sounds worse.”
Rosé leaned closer, lowering her voice dramatically. “You’re joining our study group.”
Chyell blinked. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“You don’t need to. I have already decided.”
Chyell laughed softly. “Who’s ‘our’?”
Rosé casually pointed behind her.
“Me, you, Tom… and a few others.”
Chyell hesitated — Tom.
She remembered the way he looked at her yesterday, calm, observant, a little too focused.
“I don’t know…” she said slowly. “I might just study alone.”
Rosé gasped. “Absolutely not. You’re not escaping me that easily.”
“I don’t want to bother anyone.”
“You’re not bothering anyone,” Rosé said firmly. “And Tom’s group is actually useful. He’s annoyingly organized.”
From the seat beside her, Charlie’s pen stopped just for a second, then continued.
“…Fine,” Chyell said. “I’ll try.”
“Good,” Rosé grinned. “After school.”
Charlie didn’t mean to listen.
But he heard everything.
Study group. Tom. After school.
The words settled somewhere uncomfortable, unnecessary.
It doesn’t matter.
He pressed his pen harder against the page.
Why would it?
She could talk to whoever she wanted, laugh with whoever she wanted.
It had nothing to do with him.
So why—Why did it feel like it did?
After school, the classroom grew quieter. Chyell packed her things slowly, glancing at the clock. She wasn’t sure why she felt slightly nervous.
“Ready?” Rosé appeared beside her.
“As I’ll ever be.”
They walked toward the door together — “Hey, Chyell.”
She turned. Tom stood there.
“I’ll walk you to the library,” he said. “The others are already there.”
“Oh… okay.”
They left side by side. And for some reason, Charlie looked up, just in time to see them disappear.
The library felt calm.
Soft light. Quiet air. Rows of books.
“I like it here,” Chyell said.
Tom glanced at her. “It suits you.”
She blinked. “What does that mean?”
“You’re quieter than most people,” he said. “But not in a bad way.”
Chyell smiled slightly. “I’ve heard that before.”
They sat down. The study session started normally with notes, explanations, questions.
Tom leaned slightly closer as he pointed at her notebook.
“You missed this part.”
“Oh… I didn’t catch that.”
“I’ll show you.”
His chair moved closer, not too much. But enough.
Chyell didn’t think anything of it.
But someone else would have.
Charlie shouldn’t have been there. He told himself he had work to do, that stopping by the library meant nothing.
But somehow, he ended up standing outside.
Looking in, he saw her immediately.
Chyell. Sitting beside Tom. Listening. Smiling.
And Tom—Too close, leaning in like he belonged there.
Charlie’s jaw tightened. It doesn’t matter. He could leave. He should leave.
But he didn’t.
“Thanks,” Chyell said, closing her notebook. “That helped a lot.”
Tom nodded. “You learn fast.”
“Only when someone explains it well.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “You were already close.”
She smiled, slightly embarrassed. “Still… thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t mind helping you.”
Something about the way he said made her pause.
“You’re blocking the aisle.”
The voice suddenly cut through the moment.
Cold. Sharp. Familiar.
Chyell turned. Charlie!!!
Standing there. Expression is unreadable.
“Oh—you’re still here?” she asked, surprised.
He didn’t answer her. His eyes were on Tom.
“Move.”
Tom straightened slightly. “There’s space.”
“Not enough.”
The air shifted.
Tense.
“Charlie, it’s fine...” Chyell started.
“It’s not.”
Too fast. Too harsh. Silence fell. Tom leaned back slightly, but didn’t break eye contact.
“If you needed to pass, you could’ve just said so.”
“I did.”
“That wasn’t asking.”
Charlie’s grip tightened.
“I’m not asking.”
Chyell frowned.
“… Why are you being like this?”
For the first time, Charlie looked at her.
“Like what?”
“Rude,” she said quietly. “For no reason.”
Something in his expression changed.
“There is a reason.”
“Then say it.”
A pause. Too long. Too heavy.
“I don’t need to explain.”
That was enough.
“Right,” Chyell said softly. “Because you never do.”
He didn’t respond.
“Maybe if you didn’t act like this all the time,” she stopped, exhaling. “You know what? Never mind.”
She stood up. Closed her notebook.
“I’m going home.”
“Chyell—” Rosé started.
“I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t. She walked past Charlie without looking at him.
Outside, the evening air felt heavier than it should. Chyell slowed her steps slightly.
“… I didn’t do anything.”
And yet, it still hurts.
Back in the library, Charlie didn’t move. Not immediately.
The empty chair beside him felt louder than anything else.
Rude.
For no reason.
His jaw tightened. There was a reason. He just couldn’t say it.
Because if he did, it would mean something. And that was exactly what he was trying to avoid.
Slowly, he sat down in her seat. Her notebook was still there. Open.
He looked at her handwriting. Then reached out and closed it carefully.
Like it mattered. Like she mattered.
Even if he didn’t know how to say it.
- Writer
