Distance between us
1129 Words
Lately, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything.
The words on the page blurred when I tried to read, and even when I pretended to listen in class, my mind wandered back to the library, the way Noah’s voice had sounded when he said my name, the quiet between us that always felt like it meant something.
It was ridiculous. I knew that. But knowing didn’t stop me from feeling it.
At home, Dad noticed first. Of course he did.
He’d been sitting at the dining table, reading the newspaper like always. When I walked in with my books, he looked up, his expression sharp.
“You’ve been slipping,” he said.
My stomach sank. “Slipping?”
“In your work. Your grades, your focus, everything. You used to be disciplined, Bella. What happened?”
“I’m just tired, Dad,” I muttered.
“Tired isn’t an excuse.” His tone was calm, but there was steel underneath. “You have responsibilities. You’re the eldest, I expect more from you.”
There it was again. That word. Eldest. Like it was supposed to mean perfect. Like it meant I wasn’t allowed to feel lost.
I forced a smile. “I’ll do better.”
He looked at me for a moment longer, then went back to his paper, like the conversation was already over.
But I couldn’t breathe right. The air in the room felt too heavy, thick with things I could never say.
The next morning, I got to school early. Maybe too early. I needed space to think, or not think at all.
I sat on the steps near the courtyard, the morning light spilling across the pavement, watching people move in groups laughing, talking, alive in a way I didn’t feel.
Then I saw him.
Noah.
He was standing near the school gate and he wasn’t alone.
A group of guys surrounded him, older-looking, loud, the kind that drew attention wherever they went. One of them had a scar above his eyebrow; another had his hands shoved in his pockets, leaning in close to Noah as they laughed about something.
I froze.
Noah was laughing too not the quiet half-smile I was used to, but a full, open laugh that looked… different from him. Like he was someone else entirely.
For some reason, the sight made my chest tighten.
Maybe I’d just never seen him like that before. Or maybe I didn’t like seeing him like that.
Why does it bother me? I thought. He can have friends. He can laugh. It doesn’t mean anything.
But the longer I watched, the worse it felt.
He looked comfortable with them. Too comfortable. And that scared me, because I realized I didn’t really know Noah at all.
When he noticed me across the courtyard, his laughter stopped for a second. His eyes met mine,unreadable. Then one of the guys clapped him on the shoulder, and he looked away, the moment gone.
“Earth to Bella!”
I blinked and turned. Mia was waving a hand in front of my face.
“What?”
“You’ve been staring into space for, like, ten minutes. You okay?”
I hesitated. “I saw Noah.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Ohhh. That explains it.”
“It’s not like that,” I said quickly.
“Sure.” She smirked. “So what’s the big deal?”
I glanced toward the gate again, but they were gone. “He was with some guys. I’ve never seen him with anyone before. They didn’t look like his usual crowd.”
Mia tilted her head. “What kind of guys?”
“The kind that… I don’t know.” I struggled to find the right word. “They didn’t look friendly. One of them had a scar. They were loud, rough, like they didn’t belong here.”
Mia’s smirk faded. “Wait. Was one of them tall? Dark jacket? Kind of looks like he’d rather punch someone than talk?”
I frowned. “Yeah, actually.”
She sighed, lowering her voice. “That’s Caleb. He’s bad news. His group’s always in trouble — fights, skipping classes, rumors about stuff they do outside school. If Noah’s hanging out with them…” She trailed off.
“What?” I pressed.
“Then maybe he’s not as quiet and perfect as everyone thinks.”
The words stung more than they should have.
“Noah’s not like that,” I said.
Mia gave me a look, gentle but serious. “You like him, don’t you?”
“I—no,” I said too fast. “I just… I don’t think he’s that kind of person.”
“Maybe. But people aren’t always who we think they are, Bella.”
Her voice lingered long after she left for class.
That day, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Noah laughing with them.
It shouldn’t matter but it did.
During literature, I barely wrote a word. Mr. Haynes kept asking questions about the novel, and my answers were clipped, automatic. Noah sat a few rows ahead, silent, focused, completely unreadable again.
When the bell rang, he turned just slightly and caught my gaze.
It was only a second, but something flickered in his eyes. Not guilt, not surprise, something darker.
I wanted to ask him. I wanted to walk right up and say, Who are they? What are you hiding?
But my voice stayed trapped in my throat.
After school, I found Mia again.
“You said Caleb and his group got into trouble,” I started. “What kind of trouble?”
Mia sighed. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“People say they run errands for older guys, not school stuff. Real-world stuff. I don’t know if it’s true, but… it’s not something you want to get mixed in.”
My stomach twisted. “And Noah?”
She shrugged. “No one knows. He’s quiet, but maybe that’s part of it. Some people hide better than others.”
I didn’t like that answer. Not one bit.
That night, I tried to focus on my homework, but every time I picked up my pen, I saw his face again the way he’d laughed, the way he’d looked at me after.
Who are you really, Noah?
The thought wouldn’t let me rest.
When my phone buzzed, I grabbed it too fast, hoping it was Mia. But it wasn’t.
It was an unknown number.
“You shouldn’t be asking about Noah.”
My breath caught.
Before I could reply, another message appeared.
“Some things are better left alone.”
The screen went dark.
And just like that, the room felt smaller the quiet pressing in from every side.
- Writer
