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791 Words
Chapter 10 – In the Space Between
Kaira
She didn’t expect Andre to wait by her locker.
But there he was—tall, quiet, a little out of place in the sea of morning rush—leaning with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets like he was trying not to look too obvious.
“Hey,” he said, when their eyes met.
Kaira hesitated. “Hey.”
“I figured you might need coffee.” He held up a paper cup with a sheepish grin. “You look like someone who didn’t sleep.”
She hadn’t. Not really. Not after Zion’s words the day before—blunt, bruising, real.
What happens if you do like me?
The question had echoed in her skull all night.
Kaira took the coffee. “Thanks.”
Andre smiled, easy. “You free later? There's this poetry open mic thing. Nothing serious. Thought maybe you’d come.”
Her instinct was to say no. Politely, kindly. But then she saw Zion walk past in the distance, earbuds in, not sparing her a glance. Her stomach tightened.
So instead, she said, “Maybe.”
Andre brightened. “Cool. No pressure.”
She didn’t hate the way he smiled at her. She didn’t hate how he listened when she spoke or how he never tried to guess what she was thinking. He wasn’t trying to decode her like Zion did.
But he also didn’t set her pulse on fire.
That was the truth she buried as she walked beside Andre toward homeroom, his laughter soft against the hallway noise.
---
Andre
He liked the way she said his name.
It wasn’t dramatic or sugary. Just… soft. Natural. Like it belonged in her mouth.
Andre wasn’t naive. He saw the way she watched Zion sometimes—like he was the center of some unsolvable equation. But he also saw the cracks in her armor. The way she tensed when Zion walked by and pretended it didn’t bother her.
Andre wasn’t trying to be a replacement. He just wanted a chance.
So he stayed close but not clingy. Made her laugh. Offered his presence like a calm tide, not a crashing wave.
And when she looked at him—really looked—he felt like maybe, just maybe, she wanted the tide to come in.
Even if her heart was still stuck on someone else’s shore.
---
Kaira
Later that afternoon, she sat in the courtyard with her sketchbook, pretending to draw while her thoughts raced. Zion hadn’t said a word to her all day.
Not even a glance during lunch.
She hated that it bothered her.
She hated that Andre’s steady kindness couldn’t smother the ache Zion left behind.
And she hated that the one person she wanted to talk to about it was the one she couldn’t.
A shadow crossed her page.
“Hey,” Zion said, voice low.
Her pencil stopped moving. She looked up, heart stalling.
“Hi.”
He sat beside her, not asking for permission.
“Can I ask you something?” His tone was quieter than usual.
Kaira didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow.
Zion stared ahead. “What happens if you do like me?”
She froze.
He kept going. “I’m not trying to mess things up. I just… I don’t like how we’ve been. This weird silence, this thing between us—it sucks.”
Kaira’s throat tightened.
“And if you’re jealous,” he added, “just say it. If you hate seeing me with someone else, just say it.”
She let out a shaky breath. “And if I did?”
Zion turned to her. “Then I’d say I hate it too.”
Kaira blinked.
He leaned back, staring at the sky. “I hate pretending like I don’t care when I do. I hate acting like I didn’t notice you pulling away when I did.”
She said nothing.
He looked at her again. “But I also get it if you’re not there yet.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then, softly, she said, “I don’t know what I feel.”
It wasn’t the full truth.
But it was what she could give.
walked in silence for a few seconds.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
She nodded, eyes distant. “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind.”
Andre didn’t push.
He never did.
That was what made her stay a little longer. That was what made her accept his offer to walk her home.
But the whole time, she couldn’t stop thinking of Zion’s voice in her head, still asking: What happens if you do like me?
And in that moment, she hated how close the answer felt to the surface.
- Writer
