When We Were Almost

THE UNSPOKEN TRUTH

SARAH

The days blurred into one another after that moment under the elm tree. The weight of Alvin’s presence was always there—around corners, through hallways, behind my thoughts—but still, he remained a mystery. The more I saw him, the more I felt like I was walking on the edge of something dangerous. Something I didn’t quite understand.

It wasn’t just the way he made me feel. It was the way he didn’t feel.

I watched him from the corners of classrooms, in the crowded cafeteria, and during those small, stolen moments when our eyes would meet but neither of us dared to say a word. The space between us was still thick with unspoken things—things we weren’t ready to face.

But even in silence, we were always connected.

It was Friday again, and as usual, I found myself drawn back to the tree. The old elm that had become more than just a place to sketch—it was where I found him, and it was where I went when I couldn’t get him out of my head. I arrived early, sitting against the trunk with my sketchbook open but not moving my pencil.

I was waiting for something. Maybe him. Maybe a sign.

I didn’t know what it was.

---

ALVIN

The bell rang.

But instead of heading to my next class, I found myself making my way toward the courtyard. It wasn’t like I had a plan. I just couldn’t sit still anymore. The last few days had been heavy—too heavy—and I knew I couldn’t keep running away from her. Not from Sarah.

The way she made everything feel like it had meaning.

She was already there, sitting beneath the tree again. Her sketchbook open. Her eyes focused on something invisible. She didn’t hear me approach, and for a moment, I stood there, watching her.

There was something about the way she always seemed to be on the verge of saying something but never did. Something that made me wonder if she could see past all the things I was hiding.

The silence stretched between us. Then, I stepped forward.

“Mind if I join you?” I asked quietly.

She glanced up, and for a brief second, the world seemed to pause. I could see it in her eyes—the hope that I was saying something real, not just filling the space with noise.

“Of course,” she said, her voice soft but steady.

I sat down next to her. Not too close, but not too far either. And once again, the silence fell around us like a protective shield.

But this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

---

SARAH

We sat together, but the distance between us was still wide. It wasn’t physical, but emotional. He was right there, yet I couldn’t reach him. It was like I was touching something delicate—something that would break if I tried to pull too hard.

“Do you always come here?” I asked, breaking the silence with something safe. Something simple.

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s where I can think. Or... forget.”

“Forget?” I repeated, unsure what he meant.

“Forget that everything feels like it’s about to fall apart,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier to sit in places where no one expects you to have it all figured out.”

I swallowed, the weight of his words sinking deep inside me. I couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say. The truth in his eyes mirrored my own.

---

ALVIN

I hadn’t meant to say it like that.

I hadn’t meant to show her the cracks. But the more I sat beside her, the more the silence between us filled with things I couldn’t hide anymore. I’d spent so long pretending I didn’t need anyone, pretending the weight of everything didn’t crush me, that I almost forgot what it was like to just... let go.

But with her, it felt different. Easier.

She didn’t ask for more than I was ready to give, but she still waited.

And somehow, that waiting made all the difference.

---

SARAH

It wasn’t a conversation that changed things. It wasn’t some grand revelation. It was the smallest of moments—just a look, just a breath—that made me realize how much he was already pulling me in.

I couldn’t keep pretending that this was just about friendship.

I wanted more.

I looked at him—really looked at him—and for the first time, I saw the boy beneath the walls he’d built. The vulnerability. The fear. The way he was never fully here, never fully with anyone.

“Alvin,” I said quietly, “What if... What if we didn’t have to hide anymore? From everyone else, from ourselves.”

He met my gaze, eyes filled with something that made my heart stutter. Something too big, too complicated for words. His lips parted, but nothing came out. He didn’t know how to respond.

And maybe, for once, I didn’t need him to.

---

ALVIN

I didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t know what to do with this feeling, this... connection. The one I’d spent my whole life running from.

But there was something about the way Sarah looked at me in that moment—like she wasn’t expecting me to be perfect, like she wasn’t even asking for answers. She was just... waiting for me to say something true.

I leaned in, just a little. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath in the space between us.

“Maybe we don’t have to hide,” I said, finally finding the words.

She smiled. Just a small one, but it lit up the whole world.

And for once, I didn’t feel like I was falling apart.

---

SARAH

The bell rang too soon, pulling us out of the moment we had barely begun to touch. But as we stood, our gazes met one last time. And in that look, something shifted. Something that felt like the first step toward something I couldn’t name yet.

Alvin’s eyes softened, a slow, careful smile spreading across his face.

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, as if he wasn’t sure if that was allowed, but it was what he wanted.

“I’ll be here,” I said.

And I meant it.

As I walked away, I didn’t look back.

But I knew I’d remember this moment forever.