Tormented

Everyone knew not to go up that hill.

The summer heat pressed against Gabi’s skin like an unwelcome touch. She pulled her sweater tighter around herself despite the humidity, the familiar cocoon of fabric a barrier against the outside world. Her steps were light and hurried as she crossed the uneven pavement toward the small convenience store at the edge of her neighbourhood. It was her one reprieve—a fleeting escape from the oppressive silence of her home.

Inside, the store was cool, the air was a relief as the air-conditioning hummed faintly. Gabi lingered near the shelves, pretending to browse. Her eyes flitted over the brightly coloured packages of snacks, but her mind was elsewhere. The ache in her shoulder from the latest ‘accidental bump into the doorframe’ made her wince. She hoped no one noticed. No one ever did.

She was used to being invisible. At eighteen, Gabi had perfected the art of blending in. Her classmates at school barely noticed her presence, and the teachers, while kind enough, never pushed to understand why she never raised her hand. It was easier this way. Being noticed often came with consequences.

The bell above the door jingled, pulling her attention. She turned instinctively, her gaze landing on him. He stepped into the store as if he owned it, his confidence contrasting with her hesitant demeanor.

Clarke.

She had seen him once or twice before around town, always with an easy smile and a swagger that made heads turn. He was tall, with sandy blond hair that curled just enough to look effortlessly styled. His eyes were a sharp green, and they scanned the store with casual curiosity before landing on her. Their gazes locked, and Gabi felt her stomach flutter with excitement which also left her feeling unsettled.

“Hey there,” he said, his voice smooth and just loud enough to break the silence.

Gabi’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away, pretending to examine a shelf of canned soup. “Hi,” she mumbled, barely audible.

“What brings you here?” he asked, stepping closer. His tone was friendly, but there was an edge to it, something playful yet probing.

“Just…shopping,” she said, her fingers gripping the edge of her sweater sleeves. She hated how awkward she sounded, but words never came easily to her, especially not around someone like him.

Clarke chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “I see. Well, don’t let me interrupt.” But he didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned casually against the shelf, watching her with an intensity that made her feel seen, yet exposed. His posture was relaxed and his eyes lingered on her, observing her in a calculating manner like he was piecing together a puzzle.

Gabi’s heart raced. She hadn’t expected him to talk to her. People like him didn’t notice people like her. Yet here he was, his presence magnetic, pulling her in despite the alarms going off in the back of her mind.

“You live around here?” he asked, his gaze flicking briefly to the battered shoes on her feet.

“Yeah,” she said, shifting uncomfortably. “Not far.”

“Cool,” he said with a grin. “I’m Clarke, by the way.”

“Gabi,” she replied softly.

“Nice to meet you, Gabi. So, what’s good here? Any recommendations?” His easy banter was disarming, and Gabi found herself smiling despite her nerves.

“I don’t know,” she said, glancing at the snacks. “The chips are okay, I guess.”

“Chips, huh? Bold choice,” he teased, grabbing a bag off the shelf. “What about these?” He held up a bright red package with a smirk. “Are these ‘Gabi-approved’?”

She laughed softly, the sound surprising even herself. “I guess so.”

“Then I’ll take your word for it,” he said, tossing the bag into his handbasket. “You’ve got good taste.”

The compliment, however small, warmed her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Clarke’s charm was effortless, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it–an intensity that felt too practiced, like a script he had perfected. However, Gabi couldn’t help but be drawn to him. He had a way of making her feel like the only person in the room, an intoxicating sensation.

“You in school?” he asked as they walked toward the counter.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll be a senior this fall.”

“Nice. I’m at college, sophomore year. Just back home for the summer,” he said. “It’s kind of boring around here, though. Not much to do, you know?”

Gabi nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Maybe you can show me around sometime,” he said, his grin widening.

Her breath caught. Was he serious? The thought of spending more time with him was thrilling, but a small voice in the back of her mind warned her to be careful.

“Maybe,” she said hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clarke paid for his items and turned to her with a wink. “See you around, Gabi.” Then he was gone, leaving her standing by the counter with her heart racing and her mind spinning. When she was about to leave, the cashier stopped her and told her that the young man she was with had bought her something. Then he placed a chocolate bar in front of her and returned to work.

As she walked home, chocolate bar in hand, tucked away under her sweater, the interaction replayed in her head. Clarke was unlike anyone she had ever met—confident, charming, and seemingly interested in her. Gabi allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be someone he cared about, someone he truly saw. The thought was intoxicating, even as her better judgment whispered that she barely knew him.

When she reached her house, the familiar sense of dread settled over her. The peeling paint and sagging porch seemed to mirror her weariness. She hesitated at the door, knowing what likely waited inside, but Clarke’s smile lingered in her mind, a small light in the darkness. For the first time in a long time, she felt a glimmer of something like hope—or was it danger?