The Things We Don't Say
1099 Words
By the time the break bell rang, Crestwood High had already decided.
The new teacher wasn’t just new—he was the topic.
It started in whispers between classes, spread through group chats before first period ended, and by break time, it had taken over the courtyard like wildfire.
“Have you seen him?”
“They said he went to Crestwood himself.”
“No way—seriously?”
“Yeah, like years ago. Top of his class or something.”
Crestwood loved its history—especially the kind that made ordinary people feel like legends.
Lila sat at her usual spot beneath the old jacaranda tree near the edge of the courtyard, its purple blossoms scattered across the ground like quiet confessions. She had her lunch in front of her, untouched, her notebook open but forgotten.
Her mind wasn’t there.
It kept drifting back to the classroom.
To that moment.
That glance.
It meant nothing, she told herself again.
But her heart hadn’t quite gotten the message.
“Lila.”
Ethan’s voice pulled her back.
She looked up, blinking slightly, as he sat down across from her. He had two juice boxes in his hand, sliding one toward her without a word.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
He nodded, watching her for a second longer than usual.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said.
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not like this.”
Lila hesitated, then shrugged lightly. “Just tired.”
It wasn’t a lie.
But it wasn’t the truth either.
Ethan leaned back slightly, exhaling. Around them, the courtyard buzzed with energy—students laughing, arguing, trading snacks, living in loud, careless moments.
But at their table, something felt… still.
Like the air was waiting.
“I was thinking,” Ethan started, his voice lower now, more serious.
Lila looked at him.
There was something different in his expression. Something she couldn’t immediately name.
“I—”
His words faltered for just a second, like they were heavier than he expected.
He tried again.
“I wanted to tell you something.”
Lila straightened slightly, giving him her full attention now. “What is it?”
Ethan hesitated.
Not because he didn’t know what to say—he had gone over it a hundred times in his head. Maybe more.
But saying it out loud?
That was different.
Because once it was said, it would be real.
And things would change.
“I think I—”
A ripple moved through the courtyard.
Not loud, not sudden—but noticeable.
Voices shifted. Heads turned.
And without meaning to—
Lila turned too.
Near the far end of the courtyard, walking along the shaded path that led toward the staff building, was Mr. Blake.
He wasn’t doing anything remarkable.
Just walking. Talking briefly to another teacher. One hand in his pocket, sleeves slightly rolled, sunlight catching just enough to make him stand out without trying.
But still—
People noticed.
And so did Lila.
Her attention slipped, just for a second too long.
Ethan saw it.
He didn’t need to follow her gaze to understand.
He just… knew.
The words he had been holding onto so tightly suddenly felt pointless.
Like trying to compete with something that wasn’t even real—and somehow still winning.
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Never mind,” he said quietly.
Lila blinked, turning back to him. “What?”
“It’s nothing,” Ethan added quickly, forcing a small shrug. “Wasn’t important.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing.”
“It is,” he said, this time a little firmer.
Too firm.
The moment had slipped.
And neither of them quite knew how to bring it back.
Ethan stood up before the silence could stretch any further.
“I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Ethan”
But he was already stepping away.
Not fast enough to make it obvious.
But not slow enough to stay.
Lila watched him go, confusion settling in her chest.
What just happened?
“Okay—don’t even try to act normal right now.”
Lila didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
Rosa Martinez dropped into the seat beside her like she owned it, eyes bright with curiosity and mischief.
“You saw him, didn’t you?” Rosa grinned.
Lila sighed softly. “Rosa…”
“Don’t ‘Rosa’ me,” she said, leaning in. “The new teacher? Mr. Blake? Tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Lila.”
“That’s his name,” she added, avoiding her gaze. “And he teaches literature.”
Rosa stared at her for a second.
Then—
“Oh my God,” she whispered dramatically. “You do like him.”
Lila’s head snapped toward her. “What? No—I don’t like him.”
“Please,” Rosa scoffed. “I saw your face in class. You were gone.”
“I was not.”
“You so were.”
Lila groaned softly, dropping her gaze to the table. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?”
She hesitated.
Because she didn’t have a perfect answer.
“It’s just…” she started slowly, searching for the right words. “He’s different.”
Rosa raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”
Lila glanced toward the staff building again, though he was no longer there.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The way he talks. The way he looks at people… it’s like he actually sees them.”
Rosa’s expression softened slightly, though the teasing didn’t completely leave her eyes.
“So you admire him.”
Lila nodded quietly.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think I do.”
Rosa leaned back, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. “Mm-hmm. That’s how it starts.”
“It’s not starting anything,” Lila insisted, though her voice lacked conviction.
“Sure,” Rosa said lightly. “And I’m failing math on purpose.”
Lila huffed a small laugh despite herself.
But as the moment settled, her gaze drifted again—
Not to the courtyard.
Not to the crowd.
But to the space Ethan had left behind.
Something about the way he walked off didn’t sit right.
It lingered.
Quiet. Unresolved.
And for the first time that day—
Lila felt it.
That subtle, uncomfortable pull between what she was noticing…
And what she might be overlooking.
Because while her attention had been somewhere else
Ethan had been right in front of her.
And this time—
He walked away.
- Writer
