HURT ME

CHAPTER 4

I tried to convince myself that nothing had changed.

That Cidian’s words were just words. That I was overthinking. That I was still the same Larrah Araneta who could keep everything inside where it belonged.

But lies have a way of sounding less believable when you repeat them to yourself.

The next morning, I woke up even earlier than usual.

Not because I wanted peace.

Because I wanted distance.

From thoughts I didn’t ask for. From memories that didn’t leave me alone anymore.

From him.

The house was still quiet when I stepped out of my room. Mama was probably still asleep, or already awake but pretending not to care. Either way, I moved carefully, like noise itself could trigger something I wasn’t ready for.

Outside, the sky was soft gray.

School felt different when I arrived.

Not because anything had changed—but because I had.

I kept my head down as I walked through the gate, avoiding familiar faces, avoiding familiar patterns. I told myself I wouldn’t look for him.

And for a while, I succeeded.

Until I didn’t.

“Larrah.”

I stopped instantly.

Of course.

I turned slowly.

Cidian was standing near the stairs this time, hands in his pockets, expression calm like he had been waiting without effort.

“You’re early,” he said.

I frowned. “So are you.”

“I’m usually here.”

That didn’t help.

“Do you just hang around places I go now?” I asked, sharper than I intended.

His eyes flickered slightly, like he was considering whether to smile or not.

“I didn’t know your schedule,” he said. “Yet.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

There was something frustrating about how calm he always was. Like nothing could shake him, not even me trying to push him away.

I started walking again.

He followed beside me.

Not too close. Not too far.

Just enough to be there.

“You should stop doing that,” I said without looking at him.

“Doing what?”

“Following me.”

“I’m walking to class.”

“So am I.”

“Then we’re just walking in the same direction.”

I exhaled sharply. “You know what I mean.”

He didn’t respond right away.

When he did, his voice was quieter.

“I’m not trying to bother you, Larrah.”

That made me pause slightly.

Because it didn’t sound like a lie.

It sounded like something worse.

Something honest.

We reached the hallway where our paths usually split. I stopped there, expecting him to leave like he always did.

But he didn’t move immediately.

Instead, he looked at me.

Really looked.

Like he was trying to understand something that wasn’t visible on the surface.

“You always act like people are a problem,” he said.

“I don’t,” I replied quickly.

“Yes, you do.”

That made my chest tighten.

He continued before I could interrupt.

“You push them away before they even get close enough to hurt you.”

My jaw clenched. “You don’t know anything about me.”

A pause.

Then—

“I know you’re tired.”

That sentence hit harder than I expected.

I didn’t answer.

Because if I did, I wasn’t sure what would come out.

The bell rang, breaking whatever moment that was forming between us.

Cidian stepped back slightly.

“See you,” he said simply.

And then he left.

Just like that.

Like he hadn’t just said something that stayed stuck in my head the entire morning.

I should’ve been focused in class.

I wasn’t.

Every time I tried to listen, my mind replayed his voice.

“You’re tired.”

Like he knew.

Like he had permission to say it.

At lunch, Rina waved at me from across the table, but I barely responded. I sat down slowly, poking at my food again without really eating.

“You’re worse today,” she said.

“I’m fine.”

“That’s your second lie this week.”

I sighed. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

Rina leaned forward. “Is it him?”

I froze.

I didn’t need to ask who she meant.

“I told you, I don’t—”

But I stopped.

Because across the cafeteria, he was there again.

Same table.

Same quiet presence.

But this time, something was different.

There were papers in front of him.

And he wasn’t alone.

Two students were sitting with him.

Talking.

Laughing.

I didn’t like that I noticed.

I didn’t like even more that something inside me tightened for no reason.

“Okay,” Rina said slowly, watching me. “That face means something.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Larrah.”

I looked away quickly. “Stop.”

But even as I said it, my eyes went back again.

Cidian suddenly looked up.

And for a second—

Only a second—

The noise around me disappeared.

He saw me.

Again.

And instead of looking away like I wanted to, like I should have…

I didn’t.

After school, I stayed behind again.

This time, not because I wanted space.

But because I didn’t want to go home yet.

The classroom was emptying when I felt it again.

That presence.

I didn’t even need to turn.

“You’re avoiding me,” Cidian said from behind me.

I sighed. “You’re imagining things.”

“No,” he replied calmly. “I’m not.”

I turned this time.

He was closer than I expected.

Not invading. Just there.

Patient.

Waiting.

“I saw you at lunch,” he said.

I crossed my arms. “And?”

“And you looked like you wanted to leave.”

“That’s normal.”

“For you?”

That question made me pause.

He tilted his head slightly. “You don’t stay where you feel anything.”

My chest tightened again.

“That’s not true.”

He didn’t argue.

He didn’t need to.

Because the silence answered for me.

Cidian stepped back slightly, hands still in his pockets.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he said.

“I never said you were.”

“I know.”

Another pause.

Then softer—

“But I think you’re used to people leaving before they understand you.”

My throat felt tight.

I hated that he was right.

“I don’t need anyone to understand me,” I said quietly.

He nodded once.

“Then I’ll just stay until you change your mind.”

That made me look at him sharply.

“I won’t.”

He gave a small, almost invisible smile.

“We’ll see.”

And then he left again.

Leaving me with something I couldn’t name.

Not confusion.

Not anger.

Something worse.

Something that stayed.