(Quinn's perspective)
I tried to focus on anything else, but last night kept barging into my head, dragging me back to memories that occurred last night in my room—Ethan ending things with me, Luca's kiss, our incredible intimate moment together, but his eyes on mine, the way he said he'd leave me alone—his words heavy with meaning. And, true to his word, he'd kept his distance. Too well, actually. It was like I didn't even exist to him anymore, as if we'd both decided it was best to forget anything ever happened.
But he didn't look like he'd forgotten. Today at school, I looked at him, hoping he would glance my way more than once. And every single time, he'd catch my eye but just turn away—no nod, no smile, nothing. Blank. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was doing it on purpose—he would just make sure I was looking, and then, poof, I was invisible again—what an ass! It annoyed me to no end. He was out here acting like he didn't even care, like our intimacy was nothing, while I was left scrambling to pull my head together. He'd always been a dick, but this? This was another level.
It didn't help that I couldn't stop thinking about him. Even when I wanted to be mad, I couldn't decide if I was more upset with him or with myself. I thought about how he looked at me—the feel of his hands at my waist, his lips brushing against my neck, his fingers in my intimate core—but also the promise he'd keep his distance. Well, he'd kept that promise alright. A part of me had hoped he'd break it.
Days passed, and the silence was driving me nuts. Every time I'd see him in the hallway, his expression was like stone, like I didn't matter at all. It left me in this strange limbo, wanting to yell at him for keeping his word, wanting to scream at myself for actually wishing he'd talk to me. Why couldn't I figure out what I wanted? One moment, I wanted him out of my life, but the next, I was searching his face for any hint that he might break his own rule. Even Ethan completely removed himself from my life. I messaged him an apology but he never messaged back; he didn't call me, text me, nothing.
The quiet was starting to feel like a weight pressing down on my chest. Not seeing him, not feeling his presence—his stupid grin, his too-cool attitude, even his eyerolls—it all felt like it was slowly gnawing at me, making my days dull and strangely empty. I hated how much I missed him. Hated that I was practically living on the hope he'd just… break. But instead, he stayed annoyingly distant, and every night, I'd just lie there, replaying everything he'd said, wishing I'd made sense of it all sooner.
And now I was beginning to think maybe, just maybe, I didn't really want him to leave me alone after all. That maybe I wanted him in a way I hadn't been ready to admit.
Even Nick and Kimmy were starting to ask me what was going on. But it wasn't just them that noticed the tension. Other students would look at us in turns as if they were waiting to see if some kind of drama would unfold, but you could see disappointed faces when nothing exciting happened. I felt like I was in some high school teen drama where this was the calm before the storm, but the storm never came.
Enough, I thought. If he wasn't going to come to me, then maybe I needed to stop letting him control the situation.
When I spotted him in the hallway that afternoon, walking past with his usual neutral face, I made a split-second decision. I reached out, my hand catching his arm before I had time to talk myself out of it. He stopped abruptly, turning to me, surprise flickering in his eyes before he masked it with that infuriating calm. I tugged him sideways, pulling him into the empty janitor's closet nearby, and shut the door behind us. Luckily for me, no one saw it otherwise, neither of us would hear the end of it.
"Why are you ignoring me?" I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper, though the tension in it was clear.
He looked down at me, his face unreadable, no trace of that old, playful Luca. "You told me to stay away," he said, voice even.
"Yeah, I remember. I also remember you promising you'd wait for me," I shot back, meeting his gaze head-on. "What's with the cold shoulder? Why are you doing this? If you were trying to make a point, I get it! Point made!"
His jaw clenched, and for a second, something softened in his expression, but he quickly steeled it. "What's the point in waiting if you don't even know what you want, Quinn?"
"You are right, Luca. I didn't know what I wanted." My heart pounded as I felt his gaze on me, a mixture of frustration and something I couldn't quite read. "What if I'm starting to figure it out?"
The words left my lips before I could reel them back in, hanging between us in the stale air of the janitor's closet. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, but it was too late to take it back. Luca was right here, his gaze burning through me in the half-light, so close that the thought of breathing felt like an invasion of his space.
What if I'm starting to figure it out?