Chapter 6 — Where He Shouldn’t Be
1282 Words
I didn’t go looking for him.
That was the first thing I made clear to myself.
After what Amelia said, it would have been easy to turn it into something else. To make it feel like a warning I needed to test. Like something I had to understand immediately.
I didn’t do that.
I kept moving.
Class to class.
Building to building.
Letting the day settle back into something that felt structured again.
Normal.
At least, that’s what I tried to call it.
But the problem with being told to stay away from something…
is that it gives it weight.
It gives it shape.
And suddenly, it’s there—
even when it shouldn’t be.
By the time my last lecture ended, the campus had started to quiet down. Not empty, just slower. The kind of calm that comes when most people have somewhere else to be.
I didn’t.
Not yet.
So instead of heading straight home, I turned toward the library.
It wasn’t a decision I thought about.
Just something that felt easier.
Quieter.
The building stood a little apart from the others, tall windows reflecting the fading light. Inside, the air was cooler. Still. The kind of silence that wasn’t forced—just understood.
I liked that.
I walked past the front desk, nodding briefly to the librarian, then moved further in between the shelves.
Rows of books.
Soft footsteps.
Pages turning somewhere in the distance.
No noise.
No distractions.
Just space.
I let out a small breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and moved toward one of the tables near the back.
Away from everyone else.
That’s where I usually sit.
Or would have, if I had a usual place here yet.
I set my bag down, pulled out a notebook, and opened it without really looking at the page.
For a moment, I just sat there.
Letting the quiet settle.
Letting the day fade into something less sharp.
It worked.
For a while.
Until—
something shifted.
Not a sound.
Not movement I could point to.
Just that same feeling.
The one I was starting to recognize.
Awareness.
I didn’t look up immediately.
I didn’t want to.
Because I already knew.
Some things don’t need confirmation.
Still…
I looked.
And there he was.
Jace.
Standing at the end of the row, just beyond the shelves.
Not searching.
Not surprised.
Just… there.
Like he had always been part of the space.
Like the library had always included him.
Which didn’t make sense.
Because people like him don’t sit in places like this.
Not from what I had seen.
Not from what I had been told.
He didn’t belong here.
And yet—
he fit too easily.
I watched him for a second longer than I should have.
Then looked back down at my notebook.
Like I hadn’t seen him.
Like it didn’t matter.
But it did.
It changed something.
Because this wasn’t the courtyard.
This wasn’t a classroom.
This wasn’t a place we were both expected to be.
This was somewhere quiet.
Somewhere separate.
Somewhere he shouldn’t have had a reason to show up.
“You picked the quietest place on campus.”
His voice came from across the table.
I didn’t see him move.
Didn’t hear him sit.
But he was there now.
Closer.
I lifted my gaze slowly.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said.
It came out more direct than I intended.
He didn’t react to it.
“Why not?”
“This isn’t your kind of place.”
“And what kind of place is that?”
I hesitated.
Didn’t want to say it wrong.
“Quiet.”
A faint shift in his expression.
Not quite a smile.
“But you’re here.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I belong here.”
“And I don’t?”
I held his gaze.
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.”
Silence settled between us.
But it wasn’t empty.
Just… full of things neither of us was saying.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he glanced briefly around the space.
Students reading.
Someone typing quietly at a computer.
Pages turning.
Nothing unusual.
Then he looked back at me.
“You came here to think,” he said.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
“It’s not the one I asked.”
“You didn’t ask the right question.”
I exhaled slowly.
“That’s becoming a habit.”
“What is?”
“You answering things without answering them.”
“That’s because you already know.”
That made me pause.
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
His tone didn’t change.
Still calm.
Still certain.
And somehow—
that made it harder to argue.
“Then say it,” I said.
“If I already know, say it out loud.”
A small pause.
Then—
“You didn’t come here to study.”
My fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the notebook.
“That’s obvious.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It isn’t.”
I looked at him.
Really looked this time.
Trying to understand what he meant.
“You came here because it’s quiet,” he continued. “Because it’s the only place on campus where things don’t follow you as easily.”
That landed.
Too close.
“How would you know that?” I asked.
“I’ve been here before.”
That wasn’t the answer.
Not really.
“And you?” I added. “Why are you here?”
He leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze still steady.
“You’re here.”
The words were simple.
But they didn’t feel simple.
They felt—
intentional.
Like everything else.
I shook my head slightly.
“That’s not a reason.”
“It is to me.”
Silence again.
Longer this time.
I looked down at my notebook, but the words on the page didn’t register.
Nothing did.
Not properly.
Because now—
this wasn’t coincidence.
Not the courtyard.
Not the classroom.
And definitely not this.
This was something else.
Something that didn’t line up the way it should.
“If I keep showing up in places you don’t expect,” he said quietly, “are you going to keep pretending it’s random?”
I looked up.
My breath caught slightly.
Not enough to show.
Just enough to feel.
“I’m not pretending anything,” I said.
“You are.”
“How?”
“You keep telling yourself you didn’t come here because of me.”
That hit.
Not hard.
But deep.
Because I didn’t have an answer for it.
Not one I wanted to say out loud.
Jace watched me for a moment longer.
Then stood.
Just like that.
Like the moment had ended.
“Stay as long as you need,” he said.
I frowned slightly.
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
He stepped away from the table, moving back toward the shelves.
Calm.
Unhurried.
Like he had never needed to stay.
I watched him go.
Not stopping him.
Not calling him back.
Just… watching.
Until he disappeared between the rows of books.
And just like that—
the space felt empty again.
But not the same.
Not like before he was there.
I looked down at my notebook.
Still open.
Still untouched.
And for the first time since I walked into the library, I realized something clearly.
This wasn’t something I had walked into by accident.
And whatever this was—
it wasn’t staying in one place anymore.
It was following me.
Or maybe…
I was the one following it.
- Writer
