ZOE

"Lost in the shadows of doubt,

truth unveils the light of redemption,

 guiding ex-lovers back to the embrace of love."

Zoe

The third period of the day dragged on, the minutes stretching endlessly as I sat in chemistry class, struggling to keep my eyes open. The droning voice of Mr. Patterson blended into the hum of the fluorescent lights above, making it nearly impossible to focus.

"This subject is so boring," Sheryl groaned beside me, lazily tapping her pencil against her notebook.

I exhaled sharply. "I know, right? God, wake me up when the bell rings," I muttered, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me.

Sheryl chuckled, but her amusement faded quickly as I slumped forward, resting my head on the cool surface of my desk. I barely noticed when she turned her attention elsewhere, probably doodling in her notebook like she always did when the lessons got unbearable.

I closed my eyes for what felt like a mere second—just enough time for my mind to betray me. A memory surfaced, unbidden and sharp as a knife.

Alex's fingers intertwined with mine, his grip firm yet gentle as we walked through the park. The late afternoon sun had cast a golden glow around us, bathing everything in warmth. He looked at me with that boyish smirk, the one that had always made my heart race.

"You're thinking about something," he had said, squeezing my hand slightly.

"Maybe," I teased, nudging him playfully.

"Care to share?"

Before I could respond, the memory shattered like glass, dissolving into the harsh reality of the classroom. My stomach lurched. My chest tightened. The room felt too small, too suffocating. A sharp pang twisted inside me, as if my body physically rejected the ghosts of my past.

I bolted upright, heart pounding. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. Without thinking, I shot out of my seat, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. Mr. Patterson paused mid-sentence, startled by my sudden movement, but I didn't stop to acknowledge him.

I needed to get out.

My legs moved before my mind could catch up. I barely registered the confused murmurs of my classmates as I rushed out the door, down the hall, and into the nearest bathroom.

The moment I pushed through the door, I stumbled toward the sink, gripping the porcelain edges with trembling hands. My stomach clenched violently, and within seconds, I was hunched over, dry heaving. But nothing came out except for the overwhelming wave of nausea and the bitter aftertaste of memories I wished I could erase.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my breathing. Why won't they stop?

For the past month, Alex had haunted me. Not physically—he was still very much alive, still walking the same hallways, still sitting just a few rows away from me in class. But in my mind? He was everywhere. His laughter echoed in my dreams, his voice whispered in the corners of my thoughts, his touch lingered like a phantom I couldn't shake.

And I hated it.

I hated how much control he still had over me.

"Zoe? Are you in there?"

Ava's voice cut through the storm in my head. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to answer. "Yeah, I am. Give me a minute, I'll be out there."

I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto my face, hoping it would wash away the memories clinging to me like cobwebs. My reflection stared back at me, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. I looked pale—more than usual. I let out a shaky breath and grabbed a few paper towels, patting my skin dry before finally stepping out.

Ava and Sheryl were waiting outside, concern etched across their faces.

"Are you okay, Zoe?" Ava asked, her brows furrowed in worry.

"Yeah, I am. I just threw up. Must be the pasta I ate last night," I lied effortlessly, forcing a small smile.

Ava exchanged a look with Sheryl. I could tell they weren't entirely convinced, but they didn't push.

"Oh, okay," Ava said hesitantly. "Do you want to go home? I can walk you to the nurse's office if you want."

I shook my head quickly. "No, I think I'm fine, really. Thank you."

Sheryl sighed. "If you say so. But seriously, if you start feeling worse, let us know, alright?"

I nodded, grateful for their concern, even if I wasn't ready to share the truth with them. How could I explain what was really happening? How could I tell them that the reason I ran out of class wasn't because of bad pasta, but because my mind had become a battleground of memories I couldn't escape?

As we made our way back to class, a strange sense of unease settled over me. I hadn't told my friends about the sudden memory attacks I'd been experiencing—during the day and in my dreams. They didn't know about my relationship with Alex until they found out themselves, and even then, I had downplayed it.

It wasn't that I didn't trust them. It was just… complicated.

And no matter how much I tried to move on, something kept pulling me back.

Back in class, I hesitated before taking my seat. A feeling of being watched prickled at my senses. Slowly, I turned my head—only to meet Alex's gaze.

The moment our eyes locked, a shiver ran down my spine. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at me that made my stomach twist. Regret? Guilt? Pain? Or was I just imagining it?

I didn't realize I had spoken out loud until Sheryl nudged me.

"What's weird?" she asked, pulling me back to reality.

I blinked. "Oh, nothing," I mumbled quickly. "I'm going back to sleep."

I slumped forward once more, pretending to be tired, but my mind refused to quiet down.

Why was he looking at me like that?

Did he remember, too?

Or worse—did he regret it?

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply.

No. I couldn't let this control me. Not anymore.

But as I drifted off, one thought lingered in the back of my mind, gnawing at me like an open wound.

What if Alex was just as haunted by our past as I was?