“He’s just playing with the poor kid.”
Jace’s voice cuts through the hallway noise like a rusty knife. I don’t even have to look to know he’s talking about me. About us.
“Luca flirts with everyone,” he continues, loud enough for half the school to hear. “Nerd boy’s gonna get his heart broken.”
I slam my locker shut and bolt before I can hear whatever comes next. The laughter follows me down the hall like a pack of hyenas, and I can feel my face burning with humiliation.
The library becomes my refuge. Again. It’s the third time this week I’ve hidden here, surrounded by dusty books and the kind of silence that doesn’t judge you for being pathetic.
I’m pretending to read Kant when familiar footsteps approach my corner table.
“You know, most people use libraries for studying,” Luca says, dropping into the chair across from me. “Not for brooding dramatically.”
I don’t look up. “It’s quiet here.”
“That’s because you’re literally the only person under sixty who comes here voluntarily.”
“What do you want, Luca?”
“A conversation. You know, those things friends usually have.”
“Are we friends?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
He pauses. “What kind of question is that?”
“The kind that needs an answer.” I finally meet his eyes. “Because your buddy Jace seems to think this is all some kind of game to you.”
Luca’s jaw tightens. “Jace talks shit. That’s what he does.”
“And you let him.”
“I’m not his keeper.”
“But you are his friend. You hang out with him. You let him say whatever he wants about me while you stand there and—”
“And what?” Luca leans forward. “What exactly do you think I should do?”
“Defend me! Tell him to shut up! Something!”
“You want me to get in a fight over gossip?”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “No, I want you to care. But apparently that’s too much to ask.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” I close my book and lean back. “You kiss me at a party, then spend the next week acting like nothing happened. You let people talk about me like I’m some kind of joke while you—”
“While I what?”
“While you go back to being Luca fucking Reyes. Popular, untouchable, completely fine.”
The silence stretches between us. Luca’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“You think I’m fine?” he asks quietly.
“Aren’t you?”
“Noah.” His voice drops. “I haven’t been fine since Friday night.”
Something in his tone makes me look at him—really look. There are shadows under his eyes, and his usual easy confidence seems strained around the edges.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It means I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out why you ran away. It means I don’t give a shit what Jace or anyone else thinks.”
My heart does this stupid fluttering thing. “You don’t?”
“No.” He reaches across the table, fingers brushing mine. “I care what you think.”
“I think…” I swallow hard. “I think you don’t know what you want.”
“I know exactly what I want.”
“Which is?”
“You.”
The word hits me like lightning. I stare at him, sure I must have misheard.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Noah Linwood. Debate captain. Model UN nerd. The guy who’s been driving me insane for three years and doesn’t even know it.”
“Three years?”
“Did I stutter?”
My brain is short-circuiting. “But you… you date other people. You hook up with—”
“With people who aren’t you,” he finishes. “Because I thought you were straight. Because I thought you’d run screaming if you knew how I felt.”
“How you felt?”
“Feel. Present tense.” He stands up, moves around the table until he’s right in front of me. “How I feel right now.”
I’m pressed back in my chair, looking up at him, and suddenly I can’t breathe properly.
“You’re scared,” he observes.
“I’m not scared.”
“Liar.” But his voice is gentle. “You’re terrified that this is real.”
“It’s not real,” I whisper. “People like you don’t end up with people like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means. You’re popular and confident and perfect, and I’m—”
“Smart. Funny. Passionate about things that matter.” He crouches down so we’re eye level. “The kind of person who can argue circles around anyone and still blush when I look at them too long.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what? Telling the truth?”
“Stop making me believe this could actually happen.”
“Why can’t it happen?”
Because I’m terrified. Because I’ve wanted this for so long that having it feels impossible. Because if I let myself hope and you change your mind, it’ll destroy me.
“Because,” I say lamely.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer I have.”
Luca sighs and stands up. “You know what? Fine. Keep running. Keep hiding behind your books and your fear and your conviction that you’re not worth it.”
He starts to walk away, and panic floods my chest.
“Where are you going?”
He turns back, and there’s something dangerous in his eyes. “To prove a point.”
“What point?”
“That you can run all you want,” he says, stepping closer again. “But I’ll still be here. Still wanting you. Still willing to chase you into libraries and empty classrooms and wherever else you decide to hide.”
“Luca—”
“And if you want to keep running,” he says, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, “I’ll kiss you right here.”