QUIETLY YOURS

Lena Brooks hated mornings. Not in the dramatic way people talked about hating mornings, like it was some shared joke. She hated them quietly, deeply, the way you hate something you can’t avoid but wish you could. Mornings were loud before they were ready to be. They demanded energy she didn’t have yet. Her alarm went off at 6:20 a.m., buzzing on the small wooden table beside her bed. She let it ring longer than she should have, staring at the ceiling while rain tapped lightly against her window. It rained a lot in Ridgeway. People joked that the town only had two moods, wet and waiting to be wet. She reached over and shut the alarm off, then stayed still. Her room was small but familiar. Posters she’d put up years ago still hung crooked on the wall. A bookshelf leaned slightly to one side, filled with old paperbacks and notebooks she never showed anyone. Her backpack rested against the door, half-zipped, like it was already tired of school. Eventually, she sat up. Her phone buzzed with a notification. A group chat she wasn’t active in. Someone complaining about a math test. Someone else sending a blurry selfie. Lena didn’t open it. She rarely did. Downstairs, her mom was already moving around, coffee mug in hand, keys clinking as she searched for them. “Lena!” her mom called. “You’re going to miss the bus!” “I’m up,” Lena said, though she wasn’t sure it was true yet. She got dressed quickly jeans, a hoodie, sneakers still damp from yesterday’s rain. She tied her hair back without looking in the mirror. She didn’t need to see herself to know what she looked like: ordinary enough to forget. Breakfast was rushed. A piece of toast she barely tasted. Her mom talking about work. The weather. A neighbor’s dog. Lena nodded in the right places. By the time she stepped outside, the rain had slowed to a mist. The air smelled like wet pavement and pine trees. The bus arrived late, like always, and she climbed on, taking her usual seat near the middle. She put her headphones in but didn’t play anything. The bus ride to Ridgeway High took about fifteen minutes. Long enough to watch the town wake up. Coffee shops opening. People jogging with their hoods up. Students hunched over their phones. Ridgeway High appeared at the end of the street, brick and glass and banners advertising the football team’s last win. Lena got off the bus with the rest of them and blended into the flow of students heading inside. That was her skill. Blending. ********* English class was her second period, which usually meant she was just awake enough to focus. Mrs. Dalton liked to talk. She liked discussions, debates, group work. All the things Lena preferred to avoid. Lena slipped into her seat three rows from the window and took out her notebook. She wrote the date at the top of the page, neat but not fancy. Outside, the sky was gray again. Mrs. Dalton clapped her hands lightly. “Okay, everyone. Today we’re starting something new.” Groans spread through the room. “Don’t act like that,” Mrs. Dalton said, smiling. “You’ll survive.” Lena lowered her head slightly, already bracing herself. “This is a paired project,” Mrs. Dalton continued. “Two people. You’ll analyze a short story, write a paper together, and present.” That word, "present"made Lena’s stomach tighten. “I’ll assign partners,” Mrs. Dalton said quickly, as if she knew protests were coming. Lena stared at the corner of her desk. “Lena Brooks.” Her name sounded louder than it should have. She looked up automatically. “Evan Carter.” The room shifted in that subtle way it did when people noticed something interesting. Lena turned slowly, following the direction of Mrs. Dalton’s gaze. Evan Carter sat near the back. She’d seen him before, obviously. Everyone had. But noticing someone and seeing them weren’t the same thing. He was tall, a little slouched, like he was trying to make himself smaller. Dark hair that never looked styled but never looked messy either. He wore the same gray hoodie most days. When he looked up, their eyes met. He didn’t smile. He didn’t look away. He just looked at her. Lena felt something uncomfortable flicker in her chest. Not fear. Not excitement. Something quieter. Something she couldn’t name. Mrs. Dalton kept assigning names, but Lena barely heard them. Her mind felt stuck on that one moment of eye contact. When the bell rang, chairs scraped back and voices filled the room. Lena stayed seated longer than usual, pretending to organize her things. Evan stood, hesitated, then walked toward her desk. “Hey,” he said. His voice was low, steady. “Hi,” she replied. There was a pause. “I guess we’re partners,” he said. “I guess so.” He nodded once, like that confirmed something. “We should probably talk about when to work on it,” he said. “Yeah.” Another pause. It wasn’t awkward, exactly. It was just unfamiliar. Like two people trying to read each other without the instructions. “After school tomorrow?” Evan suggested. “Library?” “That works.” He pulled out his phone. “Can I get your number?” She gave it to him, watching as he typed it in carefully. “Lena,” he said, confirming. “Evan,” she replied. He looked at her for a moment longer than necessary, then nodded and stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Okay.” He walked away. Lena sat there for a few seconds after he left, her heart beating faster than it should have been. She told herself it was nothing. Just a project. Just a boy she barely knew. But something about the way he’d looked at her stayed with her. **************** The rest of the day passed in pieces. Math. Lunch. History. Lena sat with her usual group at lunch people she knew well enough to sit with but not well enough to matter. They talked about teachers, tests, a party someone wasn’t sure they were invited to. Lena listened more than she spoke. Across the cafeteria, she spotted Evan sitting alone at a table near the wall. He wasn’t on his phone. He wasn’t talking. He was just eating, staring at nothing in particular. She looked away quickly, surprised she’d been looking at all. On the bus ride home, she stared out the window and replayed the conversation from English class. The pauses. The way he hadn’t rushed to fill them. That night, she opened one of her notebooks. She wrote about school. About rain. About how some days felt exactly the same as the ones before them. She didn’t write Evan’s name. She didn’t need to. *********** The next afternoon, the rain was heavier. Lena arrived at the library early, choosing a table near the back where the shelves felt like walls. She set her backpack down and pulled out her notebook, flipping through pages she already knew by heart. When Evan walked in, she noticed immediately. He shook rain from his jacket and scanned the room before spotting her. He walked over slowly. “Hey,” he said again. “Hey.” They sat across from each other. For a few minutes, they focused on the assignment. Notes. Instructions. Quiet page-turning. “You’re really good at this,” Evan said eventually. “At what?” “Understanding things,” he said. “The way you explain them.” Lena blinked. Compliments always caught her off guard. “Thanks,” she said. He nodded, then went quiet again. They worked like that for over an hour. Comfortable silence. Shared focus. At some point, Lena noticed the scar on his wrist. He caught her looking and pulled his sleeve down quickly. “Sorry,” she said without thinking. He shook his head. “It’s fine.” They didn’t talk about it. When the library announced it was closing, Lena packed her things slowly. “Same time tomorrow?” Evan asked. “Yeah.” They walked out together into the rain. At the bus stop, they stood side by side, not touching. “See you tomorrow,” he said. “See you.” The bus arrived. Lena got on and took her seat. As it pulled away, she looked back. Evan was still standing there, watching the bus disappear into the rain. ********** That night, Lena couldn’t sleep. Not because she was excited. Not because she was anxious. Because something felt off. Her phone buzzed at 11:47 p.m. A message from an unknown number. Evan Carter: Are you awake? She stared at the screen. After a moment, she typed back. Lena: Yeah. There was a pause. Then another message appeared. Evan: I need to ask you something. But if I do, things might get complicated. Her heart started beating faster. She stared at the phone, rain tapping against her window again. Lena: What kind of complicated? The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Then finally, a message came through. Evan: Have you ever felt like something bad would happen if you let someone get too close? Lena sat up in bed. Her fingers hovered over the screen. Before she could reply, another message arrived. Evan: Because I think you should know why I keep my distance. And then Her phone went dark. The screen shut off completely. No battery warning. No explanation. Just black. Lena pressed the power button again. Nothing. Outside, thunder rolled low and distant. And for the first time since she met Evan Carter, Lena felt afraid.