“Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?" Diana asked.
Daniel looked up from his coffee, brow raised. “Was it inappropriate?"
She laughed. “No. You said, 'You look like you hate this place more than I do.'"
“Accurate."
“You were leaning against the vending machine. No tie, detention slip half-crumpled in your pocket."
Daniel smiled. “I was a rebel."
“You were a *nerd* with attitude. The school hated both."
“True," he admitted. “But you? You were a ghost."
Diana blinked. “A what?"
“You moved like someone trying not to exist."
Her smile faded, quiet settling between them.
“You saw that?" she asked.
“I saw *you*."
---
At sixteen, Diana sat at the back of the school library, tracing the edge of a textbook cover.
Daniel slid into the seat across from her without aski
