Notes on an Unsaid Love

Chapter 4

“Sorry, Phoebe! Just look at me, will you?”

I rolled my eyes at Lennox’s dramatic whining. He was acting like a five-year-old denied candy. I was seriously losing my mind over this guy. He didn’t even care that people were already staring at us in the hallway—he just kept following me around like an oversized puppy.

My eyes widened when I saw the principal walking in our direction.

Without thinking, I grabbed Lennox by the wrist and pulled him away from the classroom.

“Hey—Phoebe—!”

I didn’t stop until we reached one of the abandoned rooms at the far end of the building. It was dim inside, dust floating in the air like suspended secrets. I pushed the window open to let some light in.

The afternoon sun streamed through, cutting across his face.

“What are we doing here?” he asked innocently.

I turned to him and shot him a glare sharp enough to slice through steel. He didn’t even have to hear me speak to know I was annoyed. He avoided my eyes immediately.

Scaredy-cat.

“Have you not noticed that people are staring at us, Lennox?” I demanded, crossing my arms.

“You’re the one ignoring me like I’m invisible,” he muttered with a pout. He looked down, fiddling with his fingers like a child being scolded. “You won’t even tell me what I did wrong. I’m so confused.” He looked up at me with exaggerated puppy eyes. “Are you just going to let your best friend go crazy?”

I let out a long, frustrated sigh.

“Lennox,” I said firmly, hands on my hips, “the world does not revolve around you.”

He blinked. “I never said it did.”

“No, but you act like I’m obligated to pay attention to you all the time. I have my own life. It doesn’t just orbit around you.”

He fell silent.

And this time, the confusion on his face wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t playful.

It was real.

“I just… miss you,” he said quietly.

Something tugged painfully at my chest.

“We see each other every day,” I replied quickly, trying not to let my voice soften.

“That’s not what I mean.” He shook his head. “It’s different now.”

I blinked. “Different how?”

“Before, no matter how much I annoyed you, you’d laugh. Now it feels like you’re always mad at me.”

I didn’t know whether to be irritated or guilty.

“I’m not mad,” I said, though my voice came out softer than I intended. “I’m just… trying to sort myself out.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked again, almost afraid of the answer.

I let out a small, helpless laugh. “You’re so stubborn.”

He stepped closer—not too close, but enough for me to feel the warmth of him in the dim room.

“Phoebe,” he said seriously, “if I did something, tell me. I can change.”

That was when I froze.

You’re not the one who needs to change.

It’s me.

I’m the one who doesn’t know how to control my own heart.

But I didn’t say that.

Instead, I took a steady breath and met his eyes.

“No one needs to change,” I said carefully. “Sometimes… two people just aren’t thinking the same thing.”

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Phoebe—”

“Don’t push it,” I cut him off gently. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than the dust in the air.

After a few seconds, he gave me a small smile. Forced—but sincere.

“Okay,” he said. “I won’t push.”

I blinked, surprised.

“But I won’t stop either.”

“What?”

“Being your friend,” he clarified. “Even if you drag me into abandoned rooms every day.”

I couldn’t stop the tiny smile that escaped me.

“You’re impossible.”

“Only with you,” he replied instantly.

My heart betrayed me again.

I flicked his forehead, making him yelp.

“Watch your mouth. Someone might hear you and think I’m your girlfriend.”

He laughed. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

My pulse spiked.

“I’m not into love right now,” he added casually.

“Oh, really?” I tried to sound indifferent.

Before I could say anything else, a group of students from another section rushed toward us. Their class president was with them.

“Lennox! Come sing for our stage! You’re performing for Group Eleven!”

He glanced at me.

“Why are you looking at me? Go,” I said, pretending to be unimpressed.

He grinned.

“Make sure you watch me sing. I’ll sulk if I find out you didn’t.”

Before I could respond, his classmates dragged him away.

⸻

I stood at the edge of the crowd in front of the stage.

I could have gone home.

I didn’t need to be here.

But I was.

For him.

The stage lights hit his face as he adjusted the microphone. The crowd cheered wildly. Some girls were already screaming his name.

He closed his eyes for a second before the music started.

When he opened them, he searched the sea of faces—

Until his gaze found mine.

And stayed.

The song began.

His voice was smooth, warm, effortlessly filling the open space. The kind of voice that didn’t need to try too hard. The kind that wrapped around you without permission.

The crowd swayed. Some recorded him. Others screamed compliments.

But in the middle of all that noise—

It felt like he was singing to one person.

Me.

I swallowed.

Why does he look at me like that?

I’m not into love right now.

His earlier words echoed in my mind.

So why did his gaze feel like a confession?

A girl behind me sighed. “He’s going to make someone so lucky someday.”

Lucky.

Right.

I forced a smile.

That someone isn’t me.

When the song ended, the applause was deafening. He bowed slightly, thanking the audience.

Before stepping down from the stage, he looked at me again.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

Enough to make my heart race.

Enough to make doubt creep in.

Enough to make hope dangerous.

As he began walking toward my direction, I quickly fixed my expression.

I smiled.

The safe kind.

The friendly kind.

Because until he says it clearly—

until it’s real—

I refuse to assume.

I would rather be certain

than fall for something I only imagined.

But as he got closer, weaving through the crowd with that familiar grin—

I knew one thing.

What I felt for Lennox

was no longer just friendship.

I didn’t stay for the next song. I left the performance halfway and went straight home, barely thinking about anything. This is fine… I muttered to myself, tugging at my hair in frustration.

“You’re losing it, Phoebe! This isn’t okay! Hays!” I shouted at myself, pacing.

“You are losing it,” a voice said calmly. I froze and turned—and saw Kira standing there, watching me with a mixture of concern and exasperation.

I hadn’t even noticed her arrive. She had seen just how out of control I’d become.

“Kira! Huhu!” I rushed to hug her, letting my worries spill out.

I knew she felt it too—my unguarded heart, my helplessness. I knew that no one else would be hurt by my feelings the way I would be. Her hand gently stroked my back.

“Shhh… Phoebe. Everything will be okay,” she whispered. I pulled back slightly and looked at her, tearful.

“What do I do, Kira? I can’t control how I feel for him. I know this shouldn’t happen… but I love him already.”

“The more you try to fight it,” she said softly, smoothing my hair, “the stronger it becomes. Love always finds a way, and yes… sometimes it hurts. That’s just part of it.”

I looked at her, the weight of her words sinking in.

“Do you know how hard it is, Kira? I want to scream it to the world… but I can’t,” I admitted, my voice trembling, tears pooling at the corner of my eyes.

She inhaled deeply and smiled gently.

“Phoebe… sometimes, even when it hurts, you just have to accept your feelings. You can’t force your heart to stop loving someone. What matters is that you understand what’s right—for you, and for him.”

I exhaled, trying to steady myself.

“But… he’s just a friend, Kira. He can’t be mine.”

“That’s true,” she said, “but it’s okay to love him—in your heart. You don’t have to show him now. What’s important is that you’re honest with yourself. Let yourself feel everything, Phoebe.”

She looked at me directly.

“You don’t have to worry about right or wrong. Your heart guides you, and with each beat, you learn. You learn how strong you are… and how to love, even when it hurts.”

I smiled faintly.

“Thank you, Kira. I hope… I can do this.”

She stroked my hair again and smiled.

“You can, Phoebe. Everything your heart carries… you can handle it. And one day, you’ll understand how to face these feelings without fear.”

She stood, pulling me into a tight hug once more.

“Okay, Phoebe. Everything will be okay. Just remember—you’re never alone in this.”

We stood there, holding each other, when a sudden knock at the door made both of us freeze. My heart skipped. I knew it was him—Lennox. I was about to rise, but Kira placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I got this. You rest,” she whispered. I nodded, too drained to argue.

When she opened the door, we both froze. Lennox stood there, waving at me. His eyes caught mine, and then he glanced at Kira, who gave a tiny, secretive smile, teasing me without words.

“Phoebe! Why did you leave my performance so suddenly? I was looking for you,” he said, pouting slightly, as if offended.

“I’ll leave you two alone. She has something to tell you,” Kira said, stepping aside.

No matter how hard I tried to glare at her, she wouldn’t listen. She really wanted us to be alone.

“I don’t feel like it,” I muttered, looking away, unable to think straight when our eyes met.

I felt him sit beside me.

“Did I do something wrong, Phoebe?” he asked, concern in his voice.

I sighed, trying to control the erratic beating of my heart.

“It’s not you, Lennox,” I whispered. “I’m just… tired. I need to rest.”

He smiled faintly, though there was hesitation in his eyes.

“You’re not just tired, Phoebe. Something else is on your mind, isn’t it?”

I looked at him for a long moment, silence stretching between us. The warmth in his gaze mirrored my own nervousness and confusion.

“I… I don’t even know how to explain it,” I murmured. “Sometimes, when I look at you… I can’t control myself.”

He was quiet for a moment, choosing his next words carefully.

“Phoebe,” he said softly, taking my hand in his. “Then… that’s okay. I won’t force you. But please… don’t push me away. I’m here, always.”

A weak smile spread across my lips, but I felt the warmth of his presence deep in my chest.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Okay… but don’t misunderstand me.”

He smiled again, a small curve that always managed to lift my heart—even amidst the chaos inside me.

“Promise,” he said. And for a long moment, we sat there in silence, connected in a way that didn’t need words. I felt him, and even if he didn’t say it, I knew he understood… at least in part.