Some people leave footprints when they walk.Some leave echoes.And then there are people like Sam Walker —who don't just walk into a room, they own it.Quietly. Casually.Like the world just tilts slightly toward her every time she moves.
I don't think she knows it.Which, somehow, makes it worse.
I noticed her before I even realized I was noticing.
It wasn't one big moment.No dramatic slow-mo. No spilled books and synchronized eye contact.Just… fragments. Fleeting.
The way she leaned against the gym wall during assemblies like she didn't care if anyone looked.The way her voice cut clean through the static of the morning announcements — calm, low, steady, like it wasn't trying to impress you, but it kind of did anyway.The way people paused when she walked by — even if they didn't know they were pausing.
Sam Walker wasn't loud.She just… was.
And I couldn't stop watching her.
I'm Ruby Jane, by the way.Seventeen.Scholarship student.Can recite my cafeteria order like a chant: black coffee, one boiled egg, no toast.I work part-time at my parents' food stall after school. "Jane's Wok." You might've seen it — small, near the metro. Red sign. Slightly crooked 'J'.
People at school don't really talk about me.Not in a bad way. Just… I'm background.The kind of girl who's always there, but never part of anything.
Unless you count Becky and Felix.
They're the only people who see me fully.And, unfortunately for me, that means they also see things I'd rather pretend I'm hiding.
Like the way I go quiet whenever Sam walks past.Or the way I straighten my posture ever so slightly if I hear her voice near my locker.Or the way I memorize the exact tone of her laugh when someone else makes her smile.
It started small.
A glance in the hallway.Her name printed on a club poster.The first time I heard her say "Hey, good luck on your event" to a freshman and he turned pink for a full three minutes.
I didn't mean to get invested.But when you're invisible most of the time, it doesn't take much for someone like her to start looking like a miracle.
"Ruby," Becky said one day, "you're doing it again."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You're staring at her like she's a song you're trying to memorize."
Felix leaned across the cafeteria table. "Wanna borrow my sunglasses? For stalking purposes?"
"I'm not— I'm just— she's interesting, okay?"
"Oh, so now it's an academic pursuit?" Becky grinned. "A research project?"
I buried my face in my tray. "You're both the worst."
Becky Thomas has been my best friend since we were seven.She's the kind of girl who laughs with her whole body, talks fast when she's excited, and wears mismatched socks like it's a rebellion.
Felix Adkins is her chaos twin. Loud, sarcastic, and somehow charming enough to get away with most of the stuff he pulls.
They bicker constantly.And flirt accidentally.And I'm the unofficial peacekeeper, walking the line between "please don't kill each other" and "just kiss already."
"You know what your problem is?" Felix said, propping his chin on his hand.
"I have multiple. Be specific."
"You think you're not allowed to want stuff."
"What does that even mean?"
Becky jumped in. "He means you think people like Sam are too far away."
"They are."
"Okay, but why?"
"Because she's… Sam. And I'm—"
"Ruby," Felix finished. "The girl who makes dumplings after school, fixes our printer during crisis nights, and keeps a pencil pouch organized by color coding. You're a damn delight."
I looked down at my tray. "You don't get it."
He softened. "You're right. I don't. But I do know one thing — people like Sam? They're human. Not gods."
Becky nodded. "And if she ever got to know you, even a little, she'd probably like you more than half the people she already knows."
I snorted. "You're sweet. Delusional, but sweet."
Still, their words lingered.
Even when I tried to brush them off.
The next day, I saw Sam in the library during fourth period.
She was sitting alone at the back, headphones in, hoodie pulled over her hair, scribbling something in a notebook.
I didn't mean to watch her.Really, I didn't.
But there was something about the way she curled into herself — like she was trying to shrink down even though she took up so much space just by existing.
She looked tired.
Not physically.
Just… soul-tired.
I recognized that look.
I wore it more often than I liked to admit.
Later that afternoon, I saw her laugh with Alex Jones near the parking lot — that easy, polished laugh people save for photos.
Alex was the boy her parents wanted her to end up with.The one people at school assumed she was dating because they looked like a magazine cover.
He was rich, effortless, and the kind of guy who says "bro" in three different emotional registers.
They weren't a couple, exactly.But they weren't not, either.
Which meant she was definitely off-limits.
Not that I ever thought I had a chance.
"You okay?" Becky asked as we walked home.
I shrugged. "Yeah."
"You were really quiet after lunch."
"Just tired."
She gave me a look.
The kind that says I'm not buying it, but I'll let you lie if you need to.
That night, I stared at the ceiling for hours.
Tried to picture what it would even be like — sitting next to her. Saying something. Anything.
Even just "Hi."
My throat clenched at the thought.
She wouldn't even know who I was.
And if she did… would it change anything?
In my notebook, I scribbled three sentences and then crossed them out.
I wasn't a poet.
I was just a girl with a crush.
An inconvenient, impossible, slow-burn crush on someone who didn't even know I existed.
But I kept watching her.
Not in a creepy way.Just… carefully.
The way you might watch the moon when you're not sure if it's really there.
Felix once told me, "The best kind of feelings are the ones that make you feel alive and stupid at the same time."
I didn't know if what I felt for Sam made me feel alive.
But it definitely made me feel stupid.
And somehow, I didn't want it to stop.
[End of Chapter 1 – The Girl Who Shines]
Some girls carry fire in their eyes.She didn't.She carried it in the way she didn't look at me.And still burned me anyway.