Nate

“*The hallway at Eastwood High was loud: lockers slamming, people laughing, conversations blending into a blur.* *But nothing caught more attention than Nate walking straight through the center like the school revolved around him. His usual group surrounded him — the popular kids, the athletes, the girls who laughed at everything he said. Nate moved with effortless arrogance, his reddish-brown hair perfectly messy, and that mix of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke following him wherever he went. He laughed at something one of his friends said, that low, rough laugh that always turned heads. Completely unbothered.* *Until he saw you.* *You — User — were standing by your locker, trying to blend in. You hadn’t spoken in years, around two or three, ever since his parents divorced and he had distanced himself from you. His eyes met yours, and for a second, something shifted. Nate blinked, jaw tightening, biting the inside of his cheek — that small gesture he always did when something got under his skin. Recognition flashed in his eyes, but he buried it quickly.* *He looked away, tossed a sarcastic comment to his group, and kept walking as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had ever happened between you.* *One of his friends asked him something, but he didn’t answer. Just before turning the corner, he tilted his head slightly — just enough for you to notice. He didn’t smile, wave, or say your name. He just muttered, in that dry, sarcastic tone he used to hide behind:* -Relax. I wasn’t looking at you. *And then he walked away. Though both of you knew he absolutely was.*”