Shadow Between Us
1170 Words
Monday mornings were always miserable, but this one felt like stepping into a trap she didn’t know was set.
Ava dragged herself into the classroom, tired from back-to-back shifts and emotionally worn. Her backpack was heavy, but not as heavy as the growing silence between her and Ethan.
And then—she froze.
Jordan.
He stood near the window, surrounded by a small group of girls laughing at something he said, his hoodie half-zipped, his crooked grin as confident as ever.
“Jordan?” Ava muttered, blinking like he might disappear.
He looked over, casually smiling. “Guess I forgot to mention I transferred.”
She stared in disbelief. “You go here now?”
He walked over and pulled the empty seat beside her. “Looks like I do. And we’re seatmates.”
Ava blinked, her thoughts racing. It felt... surreal. He was her safe space at work. Now he was here too?
But she could feel it—someone was watching.
Across the room, Ethan sat rigid in his seat, eyes locked on Jordan and Ava. He looked confused, then tense… then something colder: jealousy.
During lunch, Ava’s locker refused to open. She tugged at the lock, annoyed, when she noticed something sticking out from the vent.
A folded note.
She pulled it out, eyebrows furrowing. The handwriting was sloppy, like it was written in a rush. Her heart stopped as she read:
“Stay away from me, Ava. You’re a burden. You ruined everything. – Ethan”
Her fingers trembled. Her breath caught in her throat.
Behind her, a cruel giggle.
She turned. Madison leaned against a locker nearby, arms crossed, smirking like a cat who’d just eaten the canary. Her lips curled upward, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
“You think people like him want girls like you?” she said in a whisper. “Stay in your lane.”
Before Ava could react, Jordan appeared, sensing something was wrong.
“What happened?”
Ava silently handed him the note, her jaw tight.
He read it and looked up. “Wait—you think Ethan actually wrote this?”
Ava’s nostrils flared. “Who else would?”
“I don’t know… but maybe you should—”
But she was already marching away, fists clenched, vision blurry with fury. Jordan followed quickly, calling her name.
They found Ethan near the vending machines. He looked up just in time to see Ava and Jordan approaching, Ava’s face thunderous.
Ethan stood straighter, eyes narrowing at the sight of them together.
“What’s going on?” he asked, confused.
Ava shoved the note toward him. “You tell me. Did you think I wouldn’t find it?”
He looked at the paper, eyebrows drawn. “What is this?”
“You really think I’m ruining your life? That I’m a burden?”
“I didn’t write this,” Ethan said firmly.
Jordan stepped in. “Maybe we should all just take a breath.”
“No,” Ava snapped. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice how cold you’ve become. And now this? A note telling me to stay away like I’m dirt on your shoes?”
Ethan’s gaze dropped to the note again. “That’s not my handwriting, Ava.”
“You didn’t even ask how I was after Madison embarrassed me in front of the whole class last week.”
“Ava, I—”
“You let people hurt me! And now you want to gaslight me into thinking this wasn’t you?”
Jordan touched her arm gently. “Ava, let’s not do this here.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked to Jordan’s hand on her. His fists clenched.
“I didn’t write the damn note!” Ethan snapped. “But clearly you believe some stupid paper over me.”
“I believe what I see!” Ava shouted.
“Yeah?” Ethan’s voice dropped cold. “Well, enjoy your new best friend.”
Ava’s mouth opened to respond, but she stopped. Her throat tightened. She turned on her heel and walked off with Jordan silently beside her.
Ethan was left alone in the hallway, pulse pounding, rage and jealousy twisting inside him.
Later that day, football practice turned brutal.
Coach Thompson paced the sidelines like a wolf in a cage, barking at players with sharp commands.
“Ethan! You’re running like you’ve got weights tied to your legs! AGAIN!”
Ethan clenched his jaw and pushed harder, sprinting across the field, sweat flying.
The team watched in silence as Coach zeroed in on him.
“You think your mommy’s watching you from heaven with pride?” he barked. “She’d be ashamed to see you play like this!”
The words struck harder than a punch.
Ethan stopped in his tracks.
“What did you just say?” he asked, his voice shaking.
Coach crossed his arms. “You heard me. She wasted all her love on a mistake.”
The field went silent.
“Don’t talk about her,” Ethan said.
“She believed you’d be something. But all I see is a soft, whiny mess.”
Ethan walked up to him, chest heaving. “You didn’t even show up at her funeral until the casket was closed.”
Coach didn’t flinch. “She was the only thing that made you worth something.”
Ethan’s rage exploded. He threw his helmet to the ground, hard. “And you’re the reason she cried herself to sleep every night!”
The entire team froze.
Ethan turned and stormed off the field, his vision blurry—not just from sweat, but tears. He didn’t care who saw.
Let them talk.
Let them stare.
He was done pretending.
That night, Ava sat curled on her bed, the note still on her desk like a wound that hadn’t scabbed over. She hadn't eaten. The silence was unbearable.
A knock came.
Her mom entered, holding a cup of tea. “Rough day?”
Ava nodded, lips trembling. “You have no idea.”
She poured her heart out—about Ethan, about Madison, about the fake letter. Her mother listened quietly, running her fingers through Ava’s hair.
“Sweetheart,” she whispered. “People who lie and hurt others do so because they’re scared of something you have.”
“And what’s that?” Ava asked bitterly.
“Realness. Heart. You’re becoming stronger than you think.”
“But it hurts.”
“Then let it hurt. But don’t shut the door on someone just because others are trying to slam it.”
Ava hugged her mom tight, burying her face in her shoulder. For the first time in a while, she let herself cry.
Later that night, her phone buzzed.
Jordan:
If you ever need someone to talk to… I’m here. Always.
She read the message three times.
But despite everything, despite Jordan’s kindness, despite the pain…
It was still Ethan’s name that echoed in her heart.
The shadows between them were growing.But sometimes, shadows only exist where there’s still light.
- Writer
