CHAPTER 8: THE SPACE BETWEEN
1184 Words
Monday arrives gray and cold.
The kind of morning where the sky looks unfinished.
I spend most of first period staring out the classroom window instead of paying attention to the lesson. Outside, the trees that line the edge of the parking lot sway beneath the wind, their leaves turning shades of gold and rust.
Autumn is settling deeper into Seabrook. Everything is changing. I wish that thought didn’t feel so personal.
“Amielle.”
I blink.
Mrs. Harper is looking at me expectantly from the front of the room.
The rest of the class turns too.
Heat rushes into my face.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
A few students laugh.
Thankfully, Mrs. Harper moves on before I have to embarrass myself further.
When the bell finally rings, I gather my books as quickly as possible and head into the hallway.
I nearly collide with Nikolai.
“Whoa.”
His hand catches my arm automatically.
The familiar gesture sends an uncomfortable ache through my chest.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
“You seem distracted lately.”
I freeze.
Only for a second.
But Nikolai notices everything when it comes to me.
At least, he notices some things.
“I’m just tired,” I say.
His expression doesn’t change.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
A pause settles between us.
The kind that never used to happen.
For years, conversations with Nikolai have felt effortless. We could talk about anything or nothing. We could sit in silence without it feeling strange.
Now every interaction feels slightly off balance.
Like we’re both standing on shifting sand.
Before either of us can say anything else, Vivienne appears beside him.
“Hi.”
Her smile is warm as always.
Natural.
Easy.
The knot in my chest tightens immediately. I hate that it does.
Vivienne hasn’t done anything wrong.
That somehow makes everything worse.
“Hey,” I say.
Nikolai glances between us. Then toward the hallway clock.
“I have practice after school,” he says. “You coming to Harbor Lights later?”
The question catches me off guard.
Harbor Lights Café has always been one of our places. The way some traditions happen without anyone planning them.
“I don’t know,” I answer.
Nikolai looks surprised.
“You don’t know?”
I force a smile.
“I have homework.”
“Since when has that stopped you?”
Before I can answer, the warning bell rings. Students begin moving around us. Vivienne lightly touches Nikolai’s sleeve.
“We should go.”
He hesitates. Then nods.
“Text me later?”
“Sure.”
The word feels smaller than it should.
Nikolai studies my face for a second longer before walking away. I watch him go.
Then immediately hate myself for doing it.
⸻
Lunch is loud.
Sofia is telling a story about accidentally sending a text message to the wrong person. The story somehow gets more dramatic every time she tells it.
“You’re changing details.”
“I’m improving details.”
“That’s called lying.”
“It’s called storytelling.”
Across the table, Vivienne laughs. Even Nikolai smiles.
I should be enjoying this. Instead, I feel strangely detached from it. Like I’m sitting behind glass.
Present.
But distant.
At some point, I realize Iñigo is watching me. When our eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow.
You okay?
The question is silent.
I look away first.
⸻
After school, the sky threatens rain.
I decide to walk home instead of taking the bus. Halfway there, I hear footsteps behind me. I don’t need to turn around.
Somehow, I already know.
“You’re developing a habit.”
I smile despite myself.
“I could say the same thing about you.”
Iñigo falls into step beside me.
For a while, neither of us speaks. The silence isn’t uncomfortable.
It never is.
That might be the strange thing. Most people rush to fill quiet moments.
Iñigo doesn’t. He lets them exist.
Eventually he glances toward me.
“You and Nikolai had a weird conversation earlier.”
I nearly trip.
“Excuse me?”
He laughs.
“I said weird.”
“I heard you.”
“Then why are you acting surprised?”
Because I don’t like how observant you are. I keep that thought to myself.
“It wasn’t weird.”
“It was a little weird.”
I sigh.
“You’re annoying.”
“So I’ve been told.”
The smile that follows feels genuine. One of the first real smiles I’ve had all day.
Iñigo notices that too.
Of course he does.
“See?”
“What?”
“You smile when you’re distracted.”
I stare at him.
“That sentence makes no sense.”
“It does to me.”
“That’s concerning.”
He laughs.
The sound drifts into the cool afternoon air. For some reason, it makes everything feel lighter.
⸻
That evening, I end up at Harbor Lights Café after all. The place smells like coffee and cinnamon. Soft music plays through hidden speakers. Most of the tables are occupied by students pretending to study. I find an empty booth near the window.
Ten minutes later, Nikolai arrives.
“You came.”
The relief in his voice surprises me.
“Apparently.”
He slides into the seat across from me. For a while, things feel normal again.
We talk about classes.
Teachers.
Football.
The upcoming history project.
Easy subjects.
Safe subjects.
Then Nikolai grows quiet.
I immediately become suspicious.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re thinking.”
“That’s rude.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
He laughs.
Then the smile fades slightly.
“Did I do something?”
The question catches me completely off guard.
“What?”
“You’ve been distant lately.”
I stare at him.
The café suddenly feels too warm.
Too small.
“Distant?”
“Yeah.”
His voice softens.
“You have.”
For a moment, panic flashes through me. Not because he’s wrong. Because he’s right.
And I don’t know how to explain it.
How do I tell him that being near him hurts sometimes?
How do I tell him that every smile feels both wonderful and terrible?
How do I tell him that I’ve spent years loving him in silence?
I can’t.
So I don’t.
“You’re imagining things.”
The words leave my mouth too quickly. Nikolai’s expression shifts.
Not hurt.
Just unconvinced.
For a second, neither of us speaks. Then he sighs.
“Okay.”
The conversation moves on after that. But something feels unfinished.
Like we both know it.
⸻
When I finally leave Harbor Lights, the sky has darkened completely. The streets of Seabrook glow beneath scattered streetlights.
I walk toward home with my hands tucked into my jacket pockets. My phone vibrates. A text message.
From Iñigo.
Did you survive your study session?
I stare at the screen.
Then laugh softly.
Barely.
The reply arrives almost immediately. For the first time all day, smiling feels easy.
- Writer
