The afternoon classes felt longer than usual, and I was certain it wasn't because of the lectures. My thoughts kept drifting back to Ethan.
I couldn't figure him out. One minute he was cold and distant, and the next, he was asking questions and giving subtle smiles that didn't quite reach his eyes. It was like trying to read a book with half the pages missing.
"Earth to Ariana." Emma's voice broke through my daze as she waved a hand in front of my face.
"Huh?" I blinked, realizing I had zoned out during History class again.
She gave me a knowing look. "Don't tell me you're still thinking about Ethan."
I lowered my voice. "I'm not thinking about him."
Emma smirked. "Liar. You've been staring at the same page for ten minutes."
I sighed and closed my textbook. "It's just... I don't know. There's something about him. Like he's hiding something."
"Maybe he is," she said with a shrug. "But that doesn't mean it's your job to figure it out. Just be careful, okay? Mysterious guys make great stories but complicated realities."
Her words stayed with me for the rest of the day. She was probably right. But something inside me just wouldn't let it go.
After school, I took the long way home. The sky was painted with streaks of gold and pink, the sun dipping low behind the buildings. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, calming my restless thoughts—until I turned the corner and saw him.
Ethan.
He was leaning against the wall near the convenience store, hood up, one hand buried in his pocket, the other holding a can of soda. He didn't notice me at first, and I had a brief moment to observe him without the usual tension.
He looked... sad.
Not angry. Not closed off. Just... sad.
I debated walking past him without saying a word, but my feet had other plans. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of him.
He looked up, eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Ariana?"
"Hi," I said, a little awkwardly. "Didn't expect to see you here."
He glanced down at the soda. "I needed air."
I nodded. "Me too."
We stood there for a moment in silence. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. It was just... quiet.
Then, without warning, he said, "Do you believe in second chances?"
The question caught me off guard. "Second chances? Like, in general?"
He nodded.
I hesitated. "I think... people mess up. And if they're willing to change, they deserve a second chance."
Ethan looked away, his jaw tightening. "What if they messed up really bad?"
"Depends on how bad. But even then... I don't think anyone should be defined by one mistake. Why do you ask?"
He didn't answer right away. When he finally looked at me again, there was a flicker of pain in his expression.
"No reason."
But I didn't believe him. Not for a second.
Whatever Ethan was carrying, it wasn't small.
And for reasons I didn't fully understand yet, I wanted to help him carry it.