CHAPTER THREE
1089 Words
Lena didn’t tell anyone about the note.
She folded it once, then again, until it was small enough to fit into the back pocket of her jeans. She carried it around all day like a weight she didn’t want to set down, afraid that if she did, it would disappear or prove it had never been real.
In English class, Mrs. Dalton announced that projects would continue as planned.
“If your partner is absent,” she said, glancing at her clipboard, “you’ll continue solo for now.”
Lena didn’t look up.
Solo.
The word landed heavier than it should have.
She stared at the empty desk where Evan should have been. It felt wrong that no one else seemed to notice. That the room didn’t pause or slow down to acknowledge his absence. The world had adjusted too quickly.
After class, Mrs. Dalton stopped her near the door.
“Lena, do you want to switch partners?” she asked gently.
Lena shook her head before she could think about it. “No. I’m okay.”
Mrs. Dalton studied her for a moment, like she wanted to say something else, then nodded. “Alright. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Lena walked out into the hallway, her chest tight.
She knew she wouldn’t.
***********
That afternoon, she skipped the bus again.
She didn’t head straight home this time. Instead, she turned down Maple Street, the long way around, passing quiet houses and parked cars slick with rain. Her shoes soaked through, but she didn’t care.
She stopped in front of a small blue house near the edge of the neighborhood.
She’d never been there before. She wasn’t even sure how she knew this was the right place.
But she’d overheard it once. Two students whispering. A joke made in poor taste.
Evan lives by the creek.
The house looked empty. Curtains drawn. No lights on.
Lena stood on the sidewalk for a long moment, heart pounding, feeling ridiculous and intrusive. She turned to leave...
Then the front door opened.
A woman stepped out, older than Lena’s mom, hair pulled back tightly, eyes tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep.
“Yes?” the woman asked.
“I...sorry,” Lena said quickly. “I think I have the wrong house.”
The woman studied her. “You’re from the school.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“You’re looking for Evan.”
Lena swallowed. “Is he okay?”
The woman’s expression shifted, something closing off behind her eyes.
“He’s not here,” she said. “And you shouldn’t be either.”
“I just wanted to..."
“I know,” the woman said. Her voice softened, just slightly. “But you should go home.”
Lena nodded, cheeks burning. “I’m sorry.”
She turned and walked away before the woman could change her mind.
She didn’t look back.
That night, Lena dreamed of water.
Not drowning. Just standing at the edge of something deep, watching ripples spread where someone had just disappeared beneath the surface.
She woke up before the dream finished.
Her phone buzzed on her bedside table.
She grabbed it immediately.
Unknown Number:
You went to my house.
Her breath caught.
She sat up, fingers trembling as she typed.
Lena:
How did you know?
The reply came faster than she expected.
Unknown Number:
Please don’t do that again.
Her chest tightened.
Lena:
Are you okay?
The typing bubble appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Unknown Number:
I don’t want to pull you into this.
She stared at the screen, anger and fear tangling together.
Lena:
You already did.
Several seconds passed.
Then:
Unknown Number:
Meet me tomorrow. After school. The old footbridge.
Her heart started racing.
Lena:
Why there?
The response came slower this time.
Unknown Number:
Because if I don’t tell you now, I never will.
Before she could reply, the conversation ended.
The number disconnected.
Lena sat in the dark, phone clutched in her hand, knowing two things at once.
She shouldn’t go.
And she would.
The footbridge was rotting.
That was the first thing she noticed when she got there the next afternoon. Wood warped by years of rain, railings covered in moss. The creek below moved slowly, deceptively calm.
She checked her phone. No messages.
She waited.
Every sound made her flinch. Birds. Wind through trees. A distant car.
Then footsteps.
Evan stepped out from between the trees on the opposite side of the bridge.
He looked thinner. Tired. Like someone who hadn’t slept in days.
They stopped a few feet apart, the creek murmuring beneath them.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.
“You asked me to come,” Lena replied.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration written across his face. “I didn’t think you actually would.”
“Well, I did.”
They stood in silence, rain threatening again.
“I’m not good at this,” Evan said finally.
“At what?”
“Explaining myself. Staying. Not running.”
Lena folded her arms tightly, more to steady herself than anything else. “Then don’t explain. Just tell me the truth.”
He looked at her then, really looked at her, like he was memorizing her face.
“I disappear when things matter,” he said. “That’s what I do.”
“Why?”
“Because last time I didn’t…” He stopped himself.
“Because last time you didn’t what?”
He took a step back.
“Lena, you don’t know me.”
“Then let me.”
The creek gurgled loudly beneath them, breaking the silence.
Evan’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
He froze.
His face drained of color.
“What?” Lena asked.
“I have to go.”
“What? You just got here.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”
“Evan...”
He backed away, panic sharp in his eyes now. “I’m sorry.”
Then he turned and ran.
“Evan!” she shouted.
He didn’t stop.
Lena stood on the bridge alone, heart pounding, staring at the spot where he’d been standing seconds before.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from the same unknown number.
Unknown Number:
If anyone asks, you didn’t see me.
She stared at the screen.
Then another message came through.
Unknown Number:
They’re closer than you think.
The creek surged louder beneath her feet.
And for the first time, Lena wondered if meeting Evan had put her in danger.
- Writer
