Monday began like any other day – except that she spent the entire day looking for him, and he avoided being seen with alarming consistency.
During the break, he stood at the opposite end of the courtyard, together with the boys from the parallel class. He laughed at something she couldn't hear, and that kind of laughter cut deeper than any rejection. Once, briefly, their eyes met. A single moment, barely longer than a breath. And then he turned his head away, as if she were invisible.
In class, he demonstratively didn't sit next to her, but at the farthest table by the window. There, where the sky seemed paler, as if it had washed itself out.
Every time she moved, she felt his gaze on her back – brief, fleeting, too quick to catch. But as soon as she turned around, she saw only his profile, chin resting on his hand, gaze directed outside.
"Are you seeing him?" her seat neighbor whispered at some point. Curiosity in her voice, a quiet sparkle in her eyes.
