ALEX

The sound of Zoe's hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway as she rushed out of the classroom. I watched her go, my stomach tightening with an unfamiliar sense of dread. Something was wrong. I could feel it. And it wasn't just the way she bolted from the room, avoiding everyone's eyes, or the panic I saw flicker across her face before she disappeared behind the door. It was the way her sudden departure felt so... familiar. Like I had seen it before—only this time, it wasn't me who was the cause.

I should've known it was coming. I had been expecting it, in a way. Zoe and I had always had a special connection—one that seemed unbreakable at first. But somewhere along the line, it had slipped through my fingers, and now we were here, stuck in this uncomfortable limbo neither of us knew how to navigate.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at my chest. What I had done to Zoe was unforgivable. There were no excuses for how I had let other people's opinions influence me, for how I had pushed her away when she needed me the most. She had trusted me. She had opened up to me, and I had let her down in the worst possible way. I had listened to the toxic whispers of others, those who told me to avoid her, to move on, to stop pretending like she mattered. And I did. I pushed her away, let her go without so much as a second thought.

But now, here I was, haunted by the weight of my actions, the sting of my own regrets.

I had spent countless nights thinking about her, replaying every argument, every moment we shared. And every time, I couldn't escape the guilt. It was like a shadow that followed me around, never letting me forget what I had lost. And the worst part? Zoe had never asked for this. She had never deserved the way I treated her.

As I sat there in class, my mind wandered back to that day—the day everything had changed. I could still hear the anger in her voice, the pain in her eyes. It was like a punch to the gut every time I thought about it. The way she had begged me to listen, to believe her, to trust her. But I hadn't. I had let the opinions of others cloud my judgment, and now, I was paying the price.

A small part of me wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, I could fix things. But the fear gripped me hard. What if it was too late? What if I had already damaged our bond beyond repair? The thought of losing her for good terrified me, and yet, it seemed like the most inevitable outcome. I had been the one to break it. I was the one who needed to fix it. But how could I?

I glanced toward the door, watching Zoe's friends hover around her, talking in hushed tones as she sat back down. They didn't know. They didn't understand. But I couldn't blame them for that. I hadn't been the one to share the truth with anyone. I hadn't had the courage to face the consequences of my actions.

As Zoe's gaze met mine, I felt my heart stop. There was something in her eyes—something that I couldn't place, something that made the air between us thick with unspoken words. For a moment, it felt like everything around us disappeared. Like time froze. Like it was just the two of us, suspended in this silent moment where everything that had been said, everything that had been done, hung in the air between us.

She didn't look away, and I didn't either.

But then, just as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. She turned her head, laying it down on her desk as if the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders. I knew it wasn't just exhaustion. There was something deeper—something she wasn't telling anyone, not even her closest friends.

I could feel my pulse quicken. I needed to talk to her. I couldn't just sit here, watching her suffer in silence, knowing I was the one who caused it.

Today. After school. That's when I'd do it. I'd finally go to her, confront the mess I had made, and try to fix it. I didn't care how scared I was or how many times I convinced myself that she would hate me for everything I had done. I couldn't live with this regret anymore.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class and the beginning of our physics period. I barely registered Josh's voice until he nudged me with his elbow.

"Earth to Alex," he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "What's got you looking so deep in thought? You like someone or what?" He gave me a playful nudge, his eyes sparkling with teasing curiosity.

I rolled my eyes, trying to mask my annoyance.

"Shut it, Josh," I muttered, hoping he'd get the hint. I wasn't in the mood for his usual nonsense.

But Josh, never one to let anything go, raised his eyebrows and leaned in, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Aha! I knew it. You're not fooling anyone. Who is she? C'mon, spill it," he insisted, his grin widening.

I sighed, more annoyed than anything. "Seriously, man? Just pay attention to the teacher. We're in class," I grumbled, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew he wasn't going to let up.

Josh laughed softly, clearly entertained by my grumpy response. "Alright, alright. Keep your secrets, dude," he teased, but I could hear the amusement in his voice.

I wasn't paying attention to Josh anymore. I couldn't. Not when Zoe was sitting right in front of me, so close and yet so distant. My thoughts drifted back to her, to the way she had looked at me earlier. My heart pounded in my chest as the urgency to fix things with her grew stronger.

As I stood up, ready to leave, I caught one last glance at Zoe. She wasn't looking at me now, her head buried in her hands. But I knew—today would be the day I tried to repair what I had broken.