Leo's POV
Throughout the lectures, my mind was a whirlwind, but my gaze was fixated on Miles. He sat just a few rows ahead today, his head bent over his notes, seemingly engrossed in the lesson. But all I could think about was the kiss—the moment that had changed everything between us. I wished he would look back at me, to gesture that what he had said was true, that he really liked me. But he didn't look my way, not even once.
Each tick of the clock felt like a hammer, driving the weight of the situation deeper into my chest. I wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that felt impossibly wide. But I was scared. Scared of what I might see in his eyes, scared of what it would mean if I acknowledged the truth.
When the final bell rang, I walked home with a heavy heart, my face a mask of sadness. Whatever Miles had said that day lingered in my mind, a ghost that refused to let go. I felt a sense of isolation creeping in, an unfamiliar sensation that made me feel sorry for myself. For the first time in my life, I wished I had someone to talk to about this, but I didn't know who could help me navigate these tangled emotions.
The next day, I arrived at school with a sense of dread. My heart sank when I learned that Miles was absent. Was he really ignoring me now? The thought sent a pang of frustration through me. I was upset with him for not being there, but I was equally angry with myself for the way I had pushed him away. I should have talked to him, told him how I felt instead of yelling at him.
After school, I found myself reaching for my phone, calling him multiple times. Each ring echoed my growing anxiety, and when he didn't answer, I felt a gnawing worry settle in my stomach. Out of desperation, I dialed the landline, my heart racing until he finally picked up after a single ring.
"Hello?" His voice was low, almost reluctant.
"Hey, it's me," I said, trying to keep my tone light, even though my heart raced with uncertainty. "The teacher wanted me to tell you about the assignment. You need to submit it tomorrow."
There was silence on the other end, a pause that felt like a chasm between us. I braced myself for the rejection I feared was coming, but to my surprise, he didn't hang up.
"Okay," he said finally, though it lacked the enthusiasm I'd hoped for.
I took a breath, feeling a flicker of courage. "Are you okay? Can we meet tomorrow after school?"
But before I could process his response, I heard the click of the line going dead. My heart sank. He had hung up on me. Anger flared inside me, and for a brief moment, I wanted to throw my phone against the wall. But I held back. Deep down, I knew my mom wouldn't buy me a new one. This phone was my only hope now. Watching cute cat videos and people dancing like crazy might be the only thing that could improve my mood.
The next day, I trudged to school, my mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Miles. When he walked into the classroom, my heart leaped at the sight of him, but it quickly sank again when I noticed the exhaustion etched across his face. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He approached the teacher with an assignment in hand, but I could feel the tension in the air. The teacher frowned, shaking her head as she told him she hadn't asked for it. I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Well, that's what you get for giving me a headache yesterday," I muttered under my breath.
As he turned around our eyes met for a fleeting moment, and I quickly looked away, not wanting to see the disappointment that surely danced in his gaze. I could feel the heaviness of unspoken words between us, an invisible barrier I didn't know how to break.
Recess arrived, and I watched as he approached me. My heart raced, anticipation and fear mixing in a tumultuous swirl. "Why did you lie to me about the chemistry assignment?" he asked, his voice low, frustration evident in his tone.
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper, pressing it into his hand. "Let's meet after school," I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me.
He looked down at the paper, a frown creasing his brow. I could feel the tension in the air thickening, an electric current passing between us. He glanced up, searching my face for answers, but I couldn't give him everything—not yet. Without another word, he turned and walked back to his seat, the weight of our unspoken truths lingering in the air.
As he left, I felt a mix of dread and hope. The address I'd given him was for a small café I liked—a place where we could finally talk, free from the eyes of our classmates. I just hoped that by the end of the day, we would find our way back to each other.