Chapter 9 — The One Who Knows Him
1109 Words
I didn’t sleep well that night.
Not because something happened.
Because something didn’t stop.
The same thoughts.
The same moments.
Repeating in ways I couldn’t control.
The way he said my name.
The way he looked at me like he already understood something I was still trying to figure out.
The way I didn’t walk away when I should have.
I turned over in bed, staring at the ceiling like it might give me something clear.
It didn’t.
Morning came too quickly.
The campus looked the same.
It always did.
People moving.
Voices rising.
Everything falling back into place like nothing had changed.
But something had.
I could feel it.
In the way I noticed things faster.
In the way I kept scanning without meaning to.
In the way I knew—
before I saw him—
that he was somewhere.
I pushed that thought away.
Forced myself to focus.
Classes.
Routine.
Normal.
That was the goal.
It lasted until midday.
I had just stepped out of a lecture, the hallway crowded with students trying to leave at the same time. Conversations overlapped, footsteps echoed, bags brushed against shoulders.
I moved with them.
Not thinking.
Just following the flow.
“Isla.”
The voice wasn’t his.
That was the first thing I noticed.
I stopped.
Turned.
A guy stood a few steps away from me.
Not familiar.
But not random either.
He didn’t look unsure.
Didn’t look like someone who was guessing.
He had been looking for me.
“You know my name,” I said.
“Yes.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
Something about that felt familiar.
Not the words.
The tone.
Calm.
Controlled.
Like he wasn’t here to explain everything.
Just enough.
“I’m Jackson,” he said.
The name settled quickly.
Not because I recognized it.
Because it fit.
“You’re one of his friends,” I said.
Not a question.
Jackson didn’t deny it.
“I know him,” he replied.
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is, for this.”
“For what?”
He stepped a little closer.
Not enough to feel threatening.
Just enough to make it clear this wasn’t casual.
“You’ve been around him,” he said.
I crossed my arms slightly.
“We go to the same school.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Of course it wasn’t.
I didn’t answer.
Didn’t want to confirm anything.
But silence says enough.
Jackson watched me for a moment.
Then nodded slightly.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s what I thought.”
I frowned.
“You came all this way just to confirm something?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
A small pause.
Then—
“To tell you to stop.”
The words landed differently this time.
Not like Olivia.
Not like Amelia.
This wasn’t a warning built on distance.
This was closer.
More certain.
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
He didn’t hesitate.
“Then you won’t get out of it clean.”
That made something tighten in my chest.
“Out of what?” I asked.
Jackson shook his head slightly.
“You’re already asking the wrong questions.”
“That’s becoming a pattern.”
“Yeah,” he said. “And it’s not a good one.”
I held his gaze.
Trying to read him.
Trying to understand what part of this was real and what part was just people projecting things they didn’t fully understand.
“You all keep saying the same thing,” I said.
“Stay away. Stop. Don’t get involved.”
“And you keep not listening.”
“That’s because no one is explaining anything.”
“That’s because explaining it won’t help you.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It will,” he said quietly. “Just not in a way you want.”
Silence stretched between us.
People moved around us, barely noticing the conversation.
Or maybe they were.
I couldn’t tell anymore.
“What is he to you?” I asked.
The question came out before I could filter it.
Jackson didn’t answer immediately.
His expression shifted slightly.
Not defensive.
Just… careful.
“He’s someone you don’t need to figure out,” he said.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
I exhaled slowly.
Frustration built quietly.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just enough to make everything feel tighter.
“You’re talking like I don’t have a choice,” I said.
Jackson looked at me.
Really looked this time.
“You do,” he said.
“Then why does it feel like I don’t?”
Another pause.
Longer.
Then—
“Because he doesn’t let things go halfway.”
That stayed.
More than anything else.
“Meaning?” I asked.
“If he’s paying attention to you,” Jackson said, his voice lowering slightly, “then it’s already past the point where it’s nothing.”
My chest tightened again.
Not fear.
Not exactly.
Something else.
Something closer to… realization.
“And you think I should just walk away?” I asked.
“I think you should try,” he replied.
“That doesn’t sound convincing.”
“It’s not supposed to be easy.”
I looked away for a second.
Just to breathe.
Just to think.
Then back at him.
“And if I don’t?” I asked again.
Jackson held my gaze.
This time, there was no hesitation.
“Then don’t expect it to stay simple.”
The words settled heavily.
Not dramatic.
Just… certain.
He stepped back.
Not rushing.
Not lingering.
“I’ve said what I needed to say,” he added.
“That’s it?”
“That’s enough.”
He turned.
Walked away without looking back.
Just like the others.
Just like all of them.
Leaving me with pieces that didn’t fully fit—
but felt too real to ignore.
I stood there for a moment.
Not moving.
Not thinking clearly.
Just… feeling it.
That shift again.
That quiet pressure building in a way I couldn’t explain.
Then—
I felt it.
Before I saw him.
That same awareness.
Slow.
Familiar.
I turned.
Jace stood at the far end of the hallway.
Watching.
Not surprised.
Not questioning.
Just… there.
Like he already knew what had been said.
Like he already knew what I was thinking.
Our eyes met.
And in that moment—
I understood something I hadn’t wanted to admit before.
This wasn’t just between me and him anymore.
It never was.
And whatever I had stepped into—
it was already too deep to pretend it was simple.
- Writer
