1 1| t h r e e m e t r e s a b o v e t h e s k y

H E R M I A

Friday.

The day and night rolled by and Monday came too soon. And before I was fully aware, a week rolled by.

There's no good Friday without a hangout with Sally.

She had been distant since that night. I knew why, but neither of us had spoken about it. Now, she sat across from me in my car, twisting the hem of her sleeves, her voice softer than usual.

"You've been avoiding me," I stated plainly, watching her flinch.

"I haven't," she said, but there was no conviction in her tone.

I sighed, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. "Sally, I know you. I know when you're faking a laugh, and I know when you're—" I hesitated, unwilling to say the word. Hurting.

She inhaled sharply, then forced a small smile. "I just needed time."

I didn't push. She'd talk when she was ready.

"So," she said, shifting the subject. "Wanna hang out? You owe me some best friend time."

I arched a brow. "I do?"

She laughed, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yes. And I’m coming over after. No excuses."

I exhaled but nodded. "Fine."

We ended up at the park, where I won a ridiculous teddy bear for hitting the bullseye. Naturally, I gave it to Sally, who clutched it like a child.

Then came the theatre. Three Meters Above The Sky. Sally was obsessed. I, however, sat there indifferent, watching love unravel in all its doomed beauty.

It made me wonder.

Could love really be like that? Passionate, reckless, all-consuming? I used to hope for something simple—someone who could handle my mood swings, love me for my imperfections, and call me out on my wrongs.

The girl in me didn't really hope for a Mr. Perfect, just someone to share the world with.

But people like that didn’t exist. And if they did, they didn’t last.

Because love wasn’t real. Not the way I once believed.

Not after what I saw that night.

I shoved the thought away, gripping my cup a little tighter. Sally was talking, filling the silence as we drove home. I let her, letting her words wash over me, grounding me in something normal.

_______

"Sounds like a romcom to me!" Sally giggled.

I told her about Mr.Nerdy being next door.

The sound of her giggle was so pleasant to my hearing that I laughed. "Don't get too excited. He's just a next door neighbour."

She cooed. "Oh well! I see some romance going on there..."

"Don't be like that. He's a gentleman. " I paused for effect as I got out of the car and she followed suit. "And, I'm no girlfriend material." And with that, I slammed the door.

"Oh please..." Sally was turning her back towards me and already walking towards my house's porch so I couldn't figure out what expression she had on. "Your eyes were all dreamy when you saw him the first time."

I rolled my eyes at her. "You wish."

"No. I know."

I didn't want to talk about it and instead chose to take the time to observe my environment. Mom's car was parked outside meaning she was back home.

I matched up to her and sighed. "And we're here again."

Sally stretched, then beamed. "Okay, I’m doing your makeup. Agreed?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"For me?" She widened her eyes, pulling the ultimate guilt trip.

I groaned. "Fine. Just powder—"

"And lipstick! Blush?"

"Minimal—"

She smacked my arm playfully. "Afraid Aaron would think you're dressing up for him?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don’t even like him. That’s the tragedy."

Laughing, she pushed the front door open—then froze.

"He's all stupid face and really odd glasses.

And oh well, it's silly to think I could never have anything to do with him, Sally. Why would I want to look good to him?"

She turned around and her smile disappeared.

I frowned, slipping off my shoes at the entrance. "What?"

She didn’t answer, only glancing at me like she wanted to warn me about something.

I didn't get so I raised my eyebrows. All she did was step aside and then I saw him.

A pair of familiar glasses. A freckled face. The same blue eyes I had spent hours trying to forget.

Aaron.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. The room, the air, everything between us felt charged, like static before a storm.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Yet here he was, standing in my living room.

"Aaron?" My voice came out softer than I wanted, almost like a whisper.

His name hung between us, thick with unsaid things. His gaze flickered over me, unreadable. Then he shifted, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Hermia," he said.

And just like that, my world tilted.

What's he doing here?

___________________________

And an unexpected danger is lurking behind those alluring blue eyes...