Collision course
608 Words
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Jude hated mornings.
He hated school even more.
It wasn’t just the lectures or the pity-filled glances. It was the pretending. Pretending like he cared, like he was a part of something, like he wasn’t on borrowed time.
He walked the halls of Willowridge High like a ghost. Hoodie up, eyes low, headphones in—even when they weren’t playing anything. It was easier that way. Invisible. Untouchable.
Until he turned the corner and slammed into her.
Books hit the floor. So did a pen, a folder, and what looked like a flash drive.
“Crap,” she muttered, dropping to her knees.
Jude froze for half a second before kneeling down automatically.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse from disuse.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t looking.”
He glanced up—and blinked.
It was her. The girl with the mismatched socks from next door. Today she wore black-rimmed glasses and a navy-blue uniform that actually looked ironed. She looked up at him and tilted her head.
“You’re my neighbor,” she said, matter-of-fact.
He nodded. “Guess I am.”
“I didn’t know you went here.”
“I don’t, really.”
She gave him a half-smile. “That sounds like something a rebel would say.”
He looked away, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Something like that.”
They stood together in the crowded hallway, students weaving around them like they didn’t exist. Jude was used to that. She didn’t seem to notice or care.
“You’re Jude, right?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
“You get called during roll call. You never answer.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“I’m Mira,” she added, holding out a hand. “We should officially not shake hands now that we’ve crashed into each other.”
He stared at her hand like it was some kind of alien offering, then—after a pause—shook it.
Her grip was warm. Steady. Confident.
Jude pulled away too quickly. “You, uh… new here?”
“Kind of. I transferred from Oakridge. Advanced placement.” She shrugged, like it meant nothing. “I’m just here to graduate and leave.”
He nodded slowly. She didn’t brag, but he could tell—she was sharp. Her eyes were the kind that missed nothing.
“You in a rush?” she asked.
Jude raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because you knocked my USB into oblivion,” she said, smirking. “And I kind of need it. It has my physics presentation on it.”
They both dropped to their knees again, scanning the floor. Finally, Jude found the flash drive wedged under a locker. He handed it to her, brushing a layer of dust off the edge.
She smiled, wide and genuine. “Thanks, Hoodie.”
He frowned. “Hoodie?”
“Well, you never take it off. It’s kind of your thing, right?”
He opened his mouth to fire back some sarcastic comment, but her eyes weren’t mocking. She was just… noticing.
And somehow, that was worse.
Before he could say anything else, the bell rang.
Mira stood, adjusted her bag, and gave a quick two-finger wave. “See you around, neighbor.”
Then she disappeared into the crowd.
Jude stood there for a moment longer than he needed to, flash drive dust still on his fingertips.
Something about her stayed in his head all day.
Not her face. Not her words.
Just the fact that she didn’t look at him like he was dying.
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- Writer
