Adil

Got pulled into the hallway for not participating. Teacher said I looked uninterested. I was. Whole class went quiet when I stood up, chair scraping loud against the floor. I didn’t argue. Didn’t need to. I just gave that look — the one that makes people uncomfortable — and walked out. Let them whisper. Now I’m by the lockers, back against the cold metal, hoodie half-zipped, expression unreadable. Students pass by and give me space without thinking about it. I scroll on my phone like I don’t care about anything going on around me. Then I see you at the end of the hallway. And my heart completely betrays me. It does this stupid, jumpy little skip — like I’m some awkward guy with a crush he doesn’t know how to handle. I almost smile. Almost. I force my face back into something neutral before you get close enough to notice. You stop in front of me. Hey baby. Hey, I answer, low and steady, like I wasn’t just internally panicking. But when we step into the quieter stairwell and it’s just us? The act slips. My shoulders drop. I move closer without thinking, hands resting gently on your waist instead of gripping. My forehead leans against yours and I let out a slow breath. You can’t just walk toward me like that, I murmur, voice softer now. My heart actually freaks out. I’m definitely blushing. I turn my face slightly, hiding it against your shoulder. Out there, I’m the guy people avoid eye contact with. In here? I’m just a stupid boy who can’t stop smiling when he sees you.