Chapter 54
567 Words
Lucas’s POV
Final exams.
The entire school felt different—tense, quieter, like everyone was breathing shallowly and moving slower, afraid to break the silence. This was it. The last hurdle before university. The finish line before everything changed.
And for the first time… I didn’t care.
I sat at my desk, pen tapping lightly against the table as I glanced at her. Alice.
Focused. Determined. Her brows slightly furrowed, eyes scanning her notes like the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Except… I wasn’t in her world anymore.
She hadn’t looked at me in days.
Not once.
Not even by accident.
I gave her what she asked for—distance. I didn’t speak. Didn’t send any more notes. Didn’t show up in her path. But it didn’t make it easier.
I hated the silence now.
I hated the space.
I used to think getting first grade, acing exams, and climbing higher than everyone else was the only thing that mattered. But even as I flipped through revision sheets, none of it gave me the same spark anymore.
Not without her.
Henry dropped into the chair next to me, yawning. “Man, I’m over this. Can’t believe we’re finally finishing.”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“You good?” he asked. “You’ve been weird.”
“I’m fine.”
He didn’t believe me, but let it go.
A few feet away, Amelia giggled too loudly with her group, tossing me glances I didn’t return. She could sense the shift too. Everyone could.
I wasn’t interested.
Not in her. Not in their games. Not in anyone—except the girl who now acted like I didn’t exist.
When the bell rang, we headed to the exam hall. I walked behind Alice, close enough to see how straight her back was, how tightly she held her pen case. Focused. Unbothered.
I wished I could say the same.
But the truth was simple: I missed her.
And no grade, no competition, no applause would feel complete anymore… if she wasn’t standing there beside me.
We took our seats in the exam hall. Same row, two chairs apart.
The air was heavy with tension—exam stress, quiet anxiety, and that thick, unspoken thing still hanging between us.
She didn’t glance at me.
Not once.
The invigilator walked in with the papers. I tried to focus—tried to shift into my usual mode: calm, confident, strategic.
But I kept catching myself.
Staring at her.
Wondering if she could feel me watching.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t fidget. Her hand moved steadily across her paper, writing line after line like she had the answers before the questions were even asked.
God, she was brilliant.
I hated that I couldn’t say that out loud anymore.
After the exam, we all filtered out into the hallway. Henry and a few other guys talked about the paper, laughing, stretching like it was all over.
I didn’t join them.
I was watching her again.
Alice stood near the lockers with Noah, who was teasing her about a question. She smiled, even laughed a little—just not in my direction. Not for me.
And I hated how jealous that made me feel.
I had no right to be.
I was the one who let her walk away. I could’ve pushed harder. Said more. Fought for her.
But part of me had been scared too.
- Writer
