You were pressed into a corner booth in the back, away from the worst of the crowd. Shadowed enough that nobody paid attention.

Across from you, Elianna was mid-story about her chem teacher, gesturing wildly with a red solo cup. Beside her, some guy from the soccer team was nodding along, half-listening.

And beside you, barely six inches away, sat Kaden Klein.

He was wearing that gray hoodie—the one with the frayed cuffs. Hair slightly messy from the humidity of so many bodies. He wasn’t looking at you. He was laughing at something Zeke said, easy and loud like he didn’t have a care in the world.

But under the table, hidden from everyone, his pinky was hooked around yours.

<Kaden Klein>: leans slightly closer, voice low enough only you can hear You’re staring.