The first time Lucas noticed Emma — really noticed her — it wasn't in class when she gave a perfect answer, or at lunch when she sat quietly at the edge of a table. It wasn't when his friends joked about "the new girl who's too smart for her own good."
It was after school.
The sky had begun to melt into shades of lavender and gold, and Crestwood's campus was almost empty. The kind of quiet that felt heavy, like the world had pressed pause.
Lucas stood by the fence near the sports field, the metal cool against his back. His backpack lay at his feet, untouched. He was supposed to be working on a group project, but he'd let his partners go ahead without him. Said he'd catch up. Said he had things to do.
The truth? He just didn't want to go home yet.
Home was walls filled with silence and old photographs no one talked about anymore. A place where his mom worked too much, and his dad's study stayed locked, and rooms felt like they belonged to ghosts.
He stared out over the field, hands in his pockets, breathing in the clean evening air.
That's when he saw her.
Emma.
She walked along the edge of the field, headed toward the library. Hoodie zipped up, earbuds in, gaze down like she was trying to stay invisible. But there was a stillness about her. A kind of quiet strength.
Lucas couldn't look away.
The breeze tugged at her hair, loose strands catching the fading light. She didn't brush them back, just kept walking, steady and sure.
And then — as if she felt his gaze — she glanced up.
For a second, just a second, their eyes met.
Lucas felt his breath catch.
Her gaze wasn't sharp, or curious, or wary. It was… soft. Kind. The kind of look he hadn't seen in so long, it hurt a little to receive it. Like sunlight on skin that had been cold too long.
Something flickered in him — a longing he didn't want to name.
He dropped his eyes first, pulse hammering in his ears.
When he dared to look again, she was gone.
---
Later, he tried to forget it.
Tried to laugh with friends at messages pinging in the group chat. Tried to focus on his assignments, on the noise of music blasting through his headphones.
But that moment stayed.
That look stayed.
---
The house was dark when he finally got home, the kind of dark that felt empty. His mom's car was in the driveway, but Lucas knew she was holed up in her office, working through dinner again.
He dropped his bag at the door, kicked off his shoes, and padded upstairs.
In his room, he stood at the window, staring out at the night. The city lights blinked in the distance. The moon hung low and pale.
Lucas leaned his forehead against the cool glass.
And for the first time in a long while, he let himself feel it.
The weight.
The grief that hadn't really left since the day his brother's room went quiet for good. Since the day promises were made — promises to stay strong, to be the good son, to keep it together.
He was so tired of keeping it together.
And now… now there was Emma.
He didn't even know her. But he felt like he wanted to. Like maybe she saw through the mask he wore for everyone else.
That scared him more than anything.
---
Lucas lay on his bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, the same ones he'd traced with his eyes a hundred nights before.
Sleep didn't come easy these days.
Instead, he replayed the moment on the field, over and over, like a song stuck on repeat. The way she looked at him. The way his heart had clenched, caught between hope and guilt.
You don't get to want things, Lucas, he told himself. Not when you couldn't keep the promises that mattered.
---
Morning came too soon.
Lucas dragged himself out of bed, showered, dressed, moved through the motions like always. By the time he reached school, the mask was back in place — easy smile, careless laugh, that shine in his eyes that made it seem like nothing touched him.
But inside, he felt anything but untouchable.
---
In the halls, he saw Emma again.
She stood by her locker, pulling out books, tucking hair behind her ear. She didn't see him watching.
Lucas hesitated.
Say something, part of him urged. Just say something.
But the other part — the part that kept him safe behind charm and distance — won.
He turned away before she could see him looking.
Because he knew the truth.
The closer he let her get, the harder it would be to keep his promises.
And Lucas had already broken too many.
It happened in the library — of all places, the one spot where he usually felt safe. Where the world quieted, and no one expected Lucas to be anything other than a guy browsing books he probably wouldn't read.
He'd gone there to clear his head, to waste time before going home. But as he rounded the corner of one of the tall shelves, his mind somewhere far away, he almost ran straight into her.
Emma.
She gasped, stumbling back, clutching a stack of books to her chest. One slipped free, thudding softly against the carpet.
Lucas froze.
For a second, neither of them spoke. The world seemed to narrow to the space between them — the quiet of the library, the faint smell of old pages and rain from an open window, the way the afternoon light caught the curve of her cheek.
He bent down, picked up the fallen book, fingers brushing the worn cover.
"Sorry," he said, his voice low, rougher than he meant it to be. "Didn't see you there."
Emma shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks flushed. "It's okay. I wasn't looking either."
Lucas handed her the book, and for a second their fingers touched — light as breath, but enough to send a jolt up his arm.
He let go too quickly, like the contact burned.
"Science," he said, glancing at the title. The Cosmos Within: A Guide to the Human Mind.
"Sounds intense."
Emma gave a small, self-conscious smile. "Just… curious about how people work, I guess."
Lucas nodded, not trusting himself to say more.
The weight of what he felt — the pull toward her, the ache he didn't want to have — pressed hard against his ribs.
He wanted to ask her something. Anything.
But what could he say that wouldn't sound wrong? What could he offer her except the mess inside him?
"See you around," he said instead, stepping back.
And just like that, the space between them grew again.
But as he walked away, he felt her gaze on him — warm, steady, kind.
And for the first time in a long while, he wished he could be the boy she might think he was.