School used to just be a place to hide from home, nothing more.
But that changed the day I met Eli.
He transferred to our school in the middle of the term. Everyone was curious about him because he had that quiet, calm kind of confidence that made people look twice without knowing why.
He wasn't loud or trying to impress anyone. He just existed, and somehow, that was enough.
The first time I noticed him, he was sitting in the back of the classroom, sketching something in his notebook. When I walked past, he quickly closed it, but I caught a glimpse, it was a drawing of our classroom, detailed right down to the cracks on the window.
He looked up, caught me staring, and smiled. Not the kind of smile people give when they want something from you.
It was real.
And that was the first time in a long time I felt seen.
I didn't expect us to talk, but the next day our teacher paired us for a group project.
My heart did this weird flip thing when he sat next to me.
"I'm Eli," he said, voice low and calm.
"I know," I said before I could stop myself. He laughed quietly, and I wanted to disappear and smile at the same time.
"Im sorry, I sound like a complete stalker"
"No, no it's fine" he said while still slightly chuckling.
We started meeting after school in the library to work on the project. He was easy to talk to, even when we weren't talking. Some people make silence awkward, but with him, it just felt peaceful.
One afternoon he looked at me and said, "You draw too, don't you?"
I froze. "How do you know?"
"You always look at other people's work like you're comparing it to something in your head," he said.
He wasn't wrong.
Drawing was the one thing that made me feel like I could escape real life and enter into my own imaginary world. But I never showed anyone.
He pushed his notebook toward me. "Show me yours sometime," he said.
I didn't plan to, but two days later I brought one of my sketches to school, a drawing of a girl sitting under rain, holding an umbrella full of holes.
He stared at it for a long time.
"Why does she stay there if it's still raining?" he asked.
"Because she doesn't have anywhere else to go," I said quietly.
He didn't say anything, just looked at me like he understood more than he was supposed to.
That moment, I knew he saw the part of me nobody else could.
"You know… I used to think that too. If I stayed, maybe things would get better."
I looked at him, waiting.
"My parents weren't good people," he said finally. "They hurt each other more than they ever loved me. Sometimes I wish they never existed."
His voice cracked just a little on the last word, and for a second, he didn't look like the calm, collected Eli everyone saw at school. He looked like someone trying really hard not to break.
I wanted to tell him I understood. Sometimes I wished the same. But I just nodded and hugged him instead, because some pain doesn't need words, it just needs silence and support
We started talking every day. About random things like music, books, what we'd do if we could just leave town.
He told me he used to live by the coast before moving here, and that he missed the ocean.
"I think I'd love the sea," I said.
He smiled. "Then you'll have to see it one day. I'll take you."
He said it like a promise. And I believed him.
Rumors started floating around school that we liked each other.
Normally, that kind of attention would have scared me, but for once, I didn't care.
When people whispered about us in the hallway, he'd just grin and say, "They're just jealous."
Sometimes, when we walked home together, our hands brushed, and neither of us pulled away. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make my heart feel lighter than it had in years.
One Friday, after school, he asked if I wanted to go somewhere. I said yes before thinking.
We took the bus to the park on the edge of town. The sun was setting. We sat on the swings, talking about nothing and everything.
He told me about his parents, how they were always fighting before they split up.
I told him about mine, but not the whole truth, just enough for him to understand I didn't like being home.
He looked at me for a long time and said, "You deserve better than the things you've been through."
No one had ever said that to me before. I felt my eyes burn, but I blinked the tears away. He reached out and wiped one that escaped anyway.
"Hey," he said softly, "don't hide from me."
That was the moment I knew I was falling for him.
After that day, everything felt brighter. School didn't feel like a prison anymore. Even teachers noticed the change.
"You're smiling more, Amara," one of them said.
Maybe because, for once, I had a reason to.
We started passing notes during class, tiny scraps of paper filled with doodles and short lines like "You looked tired today" or "Meet me by the gate after school."
Each one felt like a small secret between us.
Sometimes, I'd catch him staring at me, and when our eyes met, he'd look away quickly, pretending to focus on his notebook. But I always saw the little grin he tried to hide.
One afternoon, he drew me. I didn't know until he showed it.
It was me sitting by the classroom window, staring outside, sunlight hitting my face.
"You look peaceful here," he said.
I smiled. "You make me look better than I am."
He shook his head. "No. I just drew what I saw."
I didn't know what to say to that. My heart was too full for words.
But the thing about happiness is, it never lasts long in my world.
One night, when I came home late after studying with Eli, Mom was waiting by the door.
Her voice was angry. "Who were you with?" she asked.
"Just a friend," I said.
She stepped closer. "A boy?"
I didn't answer, and that was enough. Her hand flew before I even finished shaking my head.
I ran to my room, locked the door, and cried quietly into my pillow.
The next day at school, I tried to smile, but Eli noticed the mark on my face.
He didn't ask what happened. He just said, "You don't have to explain. I'm here."
And for the first time, I believed someone when they said they cared.