The first day of school always feels like stepping into a new world. You never know who you'll meet, what you'll learn, or how you'll change. For me, it was just another year of trying to blend in. As the bell rang, signaling the beginning of a fresh semester, I tightened my grip on my books and tried to ignore the anxious flutter in my chest.
Walking through the crowded hallways, I passed by groups of students laughing and chatting, feeling like an outsider in my own school. It wasn't that I didn't have friends—I did—but there was always this feeling that I didn't quite belong. I'd spent the summer working at a local café, just trying to escape the constant humdrum of school life, and now, back in these halls, it felt like everyone had moved on without me.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to my first class, ready to settle into my seat in the back corner, far from anyone's attention. But as soon as I entered, I froze.
There, sitting in the front row, was him. Ethan Cole.
He was the guy everyone talked about—the one with the messy brown hair and those sharp blue eyes that could freeze you in your tracks. There were whispers that he was some sort of genius, but he always acted like he was too cool to care.
I tried to act normal, walking to my seat and keeping my head down. But then, just as I was about to sit down, I felt someone brush past me—closer than expected. My heart skipped a beat. Ethan had somehow maneuvered his way through the aisle and, without even looking at me, bumped my shoulder.
"Watch where you're going," he muttered, his voice a low, smooth drawl.
I blinked, confused. Was he talking to me? I hadn't done anything, but before I could respond, he was already sitting at his desk, staring straight ahead.
I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, and maybe even a little embarrassed. Was that how it was going to be? Just another indifferent encounter?
But as I took my seat and glanced at him again, I noticed something I hadn't seen before. His hand was clenched into a fist, his knuckles pale and tense. The sharp edge of vulnerability I hadn't expected flashed in his eyes, and for a second, just a split second, it looked like he was holding back something much deeper than indifference.
I shook my head. No. I was reading too much into it.
Still, there was something about him that I couldn't quite shake.