The Shift

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The October breeze was sharp that morning, slicing through the air like the tension between them. At school, everything looked the same hallways filled with laughter, books cradled in teenage arms, lockers slamming in rhythm. But Steph felt different. She was different now.

Since that moment in the kitchen with Hassan, something in her had shifted. He hadn't touched her. He hadn't kissed her. But she still felt marked emotionally inked with something she didn't yet understand.

She sat by the window in Chemistry class, barely listening. Noah slid into the seat next to her with a grin. "Missed the bus or just avoiding people again?"

Steph smirked. "Just needed air."

He leaned back, eyes crinkling. "You've been... off lately."

She turned toward him. "Off how?"

He hesitated. "I don't know. Not like you. Quiet. Distant. Not the Steph that yells at teachers for giving too much homework."

Steph gave a weak laugh. "Maybe I'm growing up."

He stared at her longer than she liked, his smile slipping. "You know you can tell me stuff, right? We're still us."

But were they still "us"?

She nodded quickly, then turned away, her chest heavy with guilt. Noah was still her friend, her first crush, her almost-everything. But even now, talking to him, her heart was somewhere else.

Later that afternoon, she found herself in the backroom of the restaurant again, tying her apron. Hassan was already there, going through the supplies. They hadn't talked since that night. Not really.

"You're early," she said.

"Needed to get out of the house."

She glanced at him. "Everything okay?"

He shrugged. "Same old. Someone told me today I should be grateful Jeremy didn't leave me out in the cold like my mother."

Steph blinked. "Who said that?"

He didn't answer. He just tightened the lid on the sauce container and muttered, "People don't forget where you came from. No matter how much you try to act like you belong."

Steph took a step closer. "You do belong. With us. With me."

The last words slipped out before she could stop them.

Hassan looked up, his expression unreadable. "Do I?"

Steph felt the rush of emotion bubbling inside her, and before she could stop herself, she said, "You shouldn't have to earn love, Hassan. You already have it."

The words hung between them, too big and too raw.

Hassan looked away, jaw tightening. "Not everyone would agree."

"Then not everyone matters."

He turned back to her, eyes searching hers. For the first time, Steph didn't look away.

There it was again that slow burn. That almost-moment that made time feel like it was holding its breath.

But then, the bell above the front door chimed, and the spell was broken again.

That evening, while they worked side-by-side, Noah strolled in with a new backpack slung over his shoulder and the easy confidence that made people gravitate to him. He grinned at Steph, then turned toward Hassan.

"Hey, man. Want to come with me after shift? My dad dropped off some tickets. There's a high school showcase game at the city arena.

Hassan blinked, caught off guard. "Uh sure."

Steph looked between them, surprised.

"Thought it might be cool to hang out again," Noah added, like he felt the need to explain. "Like old times."

"Yeah," Hassan said quietly. "Sure. Why not."

As they walked out together after shift, Steph watched them go—her past and her maybe-future disappearing into the night.

She felt like she was standing at a fork in the road, her heart in knots.

That night, Hassan sat beside Noah in the arena, barely listening to the game. The crowd was wild, the players sharp. But his mind was stuck on Steph on her words, her voice, the way she said he already had her love.

Noah nudged him. "You good?"

"Yeah," Hassan said, distracted.

"You and Steph have been weird lately."

Hassan glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

Noah shrugged. "I don't know. You guys are close. She talks about you sometimes. But she used to talk about me like that."

Hassan turned to look at him. "She still cares about you."

Noah smirked. "But maybe not the same way."

There was a beat of silence before Noah added, "I used to think I had her heart. But lately, I think maybe you're the one holding it."

Hassan didn't answer. He couldn't.

He just stared at the court and felt the weight of that truth settle over him like a storm cloud.

Back at the restaurant, Steph sat on the rooftop with a mug of tea and her journal. She didn't write anything. She just sat there, watching the stars blur behind her tears.

She knew it now knew her heart had shifted.

She wasn't just tangled in memories of Noah anymore.

She was falling. Slowly, dangerously, and complete for the boy who once thought he was unlovable.

And it was the most terrifying thing she'd ever felt