He’s here. In the café. Serving. Waiting tables.

It’s like my worst nightmare come true—socializing with someone, in the presence of the boy who hates me, walking around the tables, serving people.

He has every right to hate me. He was one of the people I ghosted. But that’s not the only reason.

“So, what do you think about this interpretation I did?”

My eyes follow Caiden without my permission. The green apron is tied over his torso, and his shoulder muscles bunch under his white t-shirt. I wonder how many jobs he works.

There are only so many ways you can interpret the green light across the deck. Gina interprets it as Gatsby’s dream—a beacon of hope, his aspiration, his ambition, his sign to keep going.

I see it as an illusion, something he’ll never touch, something that will forever stay out of his reach. Forget hope and aspiration; it’s a reminder of what he doesn’t have, no matter how much money or wealth he’s acquired. No matter how many people he invites to his parties, no matter how many friends he has, the green light is something he’ll never have.

Caiden wipes down the table beside ours.

What if there is no green light at all? What if it’s just a phantom?

“Do you know him?”

I look away quickly and focus on the papers in front of me. Gina rests her chin on her palm, giving me a look.

I meet her eyes. “What?”

“Do you know him?” Gina whispers, her eyes sliding in Caiden’s direction and back to me.

“He was one of the populars. Everybody knows him,” I answer with a straight face.

Gina smirks. “Did you?”

“Your interpretation is really good. I agree with whatever you’ve written.”

Gina takes the hint and moves on, working on the questions. I write whatever comes to mind, not bothering to fact-check.

Someone’s shadow looms over me. He reaches for my empty cup. I look up and rest my eyes on his. He pauses, his hand on the cups, his eyes locked into mine. My stomach twists. I feel like I’m being swept by a wave of storm, drowning underneath, breathless, airless.

Words describe everything most of the time. Sometimes, looks convey more than words can ever express.

Longing, regret, hate. A world unknown. A world untouched. A person out of reach. A person once familiar, never a stranger.

Do I know him? Does he know me?

“Hey, Caiden,” Gina waves at him. Caiden gives her a look. “How’s your day?”

She smiles. I swallow thickly, looking down at my notes, awaiting his answer. He must think I’m shameless to be doing my assignment here, at the café he works in.

“It’s fine,” he replies, holding the tray with our empty cups. He nods at her once and walks away.

We sit in silence for a while.

“Phew,” Gina sighs, “that was intense.”

“I’m done,” I say, standing up, letting my chair scrape across the floor.

“Really?” Gina gives me a surprised look.

I can’t stay here. I need to go.

“Yeah, I’ve done my bit,” I say, gathering my textbooks and notebooks, and shoving them into my backpack.

“Okay, I’ll stay a bit and finish the rest.”

I don’t reply, strap on my backpack, and nod at her as I leave.

****

I don’t know why we need yearbook pictures at all. Yearbook quotes? Stupid as hell.

We’re at the school gym. I’m waiting in line, gritting my teeth, looking at the empty bleachers while people cause a ruckus around me, talking, laughing, making fun of each other.

I also have the guidance counselor meeting today.

I hate being a senior. I wish they would leave me alone. What’s so great about completing high school? I don’t get it.

As I wait for my cue, my eyes drift to the side of the gym, where Caiden Walters is standing with crossed arms, looking bored. A guy from the football team is talking to him, as Caiden looks somewhere with that hard line around his mouth.

Angry? Bitter? Sad? I can’t tell. I follow his eyes and find him looking at Fox Graham, the current football captain, talking to his teammates.

Caiden should be there. He should be the captain. I remember how quickly he became an indispensable part of the team, as soon as he joined.

But all of that is gone now. And nobody clearly knows why.

I return my gaze to him and find him looking at me. He doesn’t look away when I catch him staring. He blinks slowly, not listening to the guy talking his ear off. We maintain eye contact until the photographer calls my name.

I’m tired, I realize, as I take my place in front of the camera. I didn’t sleep much last night. All I did was stare at my ceiling with my head empty and my eyes glassy.

I push my hair back from my face, feeling out of place, as the cameraman adjusts the lens. I spot Nadia Jones in the line.

We used to be close.

I turn my attention back to the camera as the cameraman says, “Smile.”

I move my lips, but he grimaces at my expression, so I give him a blank look.

“Chin up,” he tells me, looking at the camera. I do as I’m told.

“No, no,” he shakes his head as if he’s annoyed. I’m annoyed too.

My eyes find Caiden’s again. He’s still watching me. I hear the camera shutter, and I look back.

Something happens for the next second. It’s as if my central connection gets cut. As if I were connected to a socket, and somebody pulled my plug. The world blanks.

When I open my eyes again, I’m looking up at a familiar pair of blue eyes. I blink, and there’s Gina from English too.

Caiden squeezes my shoulders with his palms. Gina says, “Thalia, you just passed out!”

I can see a few faces looking down at me. Nadia’s there too. I turn to Caiden, who clenches his jaw.

“Let her breathe,” he tells everyone around us. Students start to clear out. The photographer advises us to take me to the nurse’s office.

Caiden’s holding me with both of his arms. My head is on his lap as he kneels on the ground. I register all of that slowly as my brain restarts.

“Are you okay?” Gina asks again.

I nod.

“You look so pale. Did you have anything for lunch?” Gina asks with a frown.

I went to the cafeteria, looked at the lunch options, and that was enough to remind me I didn’t have any desire to eat.

When I don’t reply, Caiden says above me, “Breakfast?”

I don’t meet his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath. He starts to haul me up. My eyes widen.

“Wait! I don’t need—”

I’m already in his arms as he starts walking toward the hallway, with Gina trailing behind us. “I think I have something in my backpack.”

I glare at Caiden, who doesn’t even glance at me. He’s too focused on passing the distance between the gym and the nurse’s office. I have to wrap my arms around his neck for balance. I keep my face as far from him as possible, trying to look nonchalant, as if I’m not being carried bridal style.

I should have had breakfast. I shouldn’t have gone to bed with that little excuse of dinner yesterday night.

We reach there pretty quickly, to my relief. He sets me down on a bed.

“Here, I have Starbursts,” says Gina, offering me one.

I look at her. “I really don’t—”

Caiden takes the candy, removes the wrapper, and looks up at me from where he’s kneeling on the floor, in front of me. “Open up.”

I glare at him. “I said—”

Caiden presses his thumb at the corner of my mouth, and I stop.

My head goes quiet. My thoughts halt. I stop breathing. I think my heart stops beating. I blink at him as his eyes focus on me.

He presses on my lower lip, and I’m opening my mouth, even though I don’t want to. Then he’s feeding me the candy, pressing my lips back, closing my mouth.

He stands up when he’s done. He gives me a look. Even though he says nothing, I feel like he’s berating me for not feeding myself. He turns to the side when the nurse appears and starts asking me questions.

I look away from him as I answer the nurse. I see the expanse of his back as he walks away.

I don’t want to, but when he looks back as he reaches the door, our eyes meet. Both of us look away quickly.

The nurse goes away after her questioning session to get me an IV.

Gina is sitting on a bed beside mine, giving me a look of interest.

“So, you know, how Caiden—”

“Shut up,” I say instantly.

Gina bursts out laughing. I try to glare at her, but I’m not successful.

“He was so hot when—”

“No.”

“He literally carried you like you weigh nothing,” Gina says, her face dreamy. “And the whole candy thing—”

“Shh,” I say, which only makes her laugh harder.

“You’re blushing so hard,” Gina says with delight.

I raise an eyebrow. “No, I’m not.”

The nurse comes back, putting a stop to our conversation, which I’m grateful for.

****