The sound of lockers slamming and the chatter of students filled the halls as Gianna weaved through the familiar chaos of school. It was Monday morning, and the rhythmic hum of the building did little to calm her nerves. School had always been a place where she could fade into the background, a safe space to stay under the radar. But today, she felt different. Restless.
She kept her head down, her dark hair falling like a curtain over her face as she made her way to her locker. Her thoughts were still jumbled, swirling around Ethan and the strange, unshakable feeling that something wasn't right between them. He hadn't responded to her message from last night—not that it surprised her anymore. Lately, it seemed like he was slipping further and further away.
As she opened her locker, Mia appeared beside her, leaning casually against the metal door.
"Hey, you good?" Mia's voice was light, but there was an edge of concern hidden beneath her usual carefree tone.
Gianna forced a smile, pulling out her textbooks for the day. "Yeah, just tired. Didn't sleep much."
Mia studied her for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Still thinking about Ethan?"
Gianna hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Things just feel... off, you know?"
Mia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "That's because things are off. He's been acting weird for weeks now, Gi. Honestly, I don't get why you're still putting up with him."
Gianna bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the edge of her locker door. She wanted to defend Ethan, to tell Mia that it wasn't that simple. But the truth was, she didn't even know what to say anymore. Mia was right—something was off. And the longer it went on, the harder it was to ignore.
"I don't know," Gianna finally said, her voice quieter. "I guess I'm just waiting for him to figure it out."
Mia shook her head, her expression softening. "Look, I just don't want to see you get hurt. You deserve more than some guy who can't even bother to text you back."
Gianna nodded, knowing Mia was only trying to look out for her. But it wasn't just about Ethan anymore. There was something deeper, a shift happening inside of her, and she didn't know how to explain it. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something, like her whole world was about to change, but she had no idea what it would look like on the other side.
The bell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. Mia sighed, giving her a quick hug. "Just think about it, okay? You don't have to put up with this."
"I will," Gianna promised, watching as Mia headed off to her first class. She gathered her books and followed, though her mind was already miles away.
After the school day ended, Gianna made her way across town to her part-time job at the small bakery on the corner of 5th Avenue. The warm scent of freshly baked bread and pastries greeted her as she stepped inside, instantly calming her nerves. This place was like a second home to her—a quiet sanctuary from the chaos of her life.
"Hey, Gi!" Mrs. Thompson, the owner of the bakery, waved from behind the counter. "You're just in time. I need an extra set of hands with these orders."
Gianna smiled, slipping on her apron and tying her hair back. "No problem. What do we have today?"
"Just the usual rush," Mrs. Thompson said, her face lighting up in a warm smile. "But we've got a couple of big catering orders coming in later, so it'll get busy."
Gianna nodded, falling into the familiar routine of prepping dough and organizing the display cases. There was something soothing about the work—the repetitive motions, the quiet hum of the ovens, the faint sound of jazz playing in the background. Here, she didn't have to think about Ethan or the strange shifts happening in her life. She could just focus on the simple, steady rhythm of the bakery.
As the afternoon wore on, the usual stream of customers filtered in and out, and Gianna found herself lost in the routine. She worked the counter, greeting regulars and ringing up orders, her mind finally quiet for the first time all day.
It wasn't until the late afternoon, when the bakery had started to slow down, that she felt the familiar tug of unease creep back in. As she cleaned the counter, wiping down the glass and arranging the last few pastries, she caught sight of her reflection in the window. The girl staring back at her looked the same—same dark hair, same tired eyes—but something was different. She didn't feel like herself anymore. Or maybe she was finally starting to see herself for the first time.
Mrs. Thompson came over, breaking Gianna from her thoughts. "You alright, hon? You've been quiet today."
Gianna looked up, giving a small smile. "Yeah, just thinking."
Mrs. Thompson gave her a knowing look, her eyes soft with concern. "You've got a lot going on in that head of yours, don't you?"
Gianna nodded, grateful for the older woman's gentle understanding. "Yeah. Just... trying to figure things out."
Mrs. Thompson smiled kindly, patting Gianna's arm. "Take your time. The answers will come when you're ready."
Gianna smiled back, though her thoughts were still tangled. She finished her shift, the weight of the day pressing down on her as she stepped out of the bakery and into the cool evening air