Chapter 1: The text that started everything
OMA AND MANUEL DID NOT KNOW EACH OTHER.
NOT EVEN A LITTLE.
THEY SAT IN THE SAME CLASS, YES.
SHE SAT AT THE FRONT.
HE SAT AT THE BACK.
SHE WAS QUIET.
HE WAS QUIET.
SHE NEVER TALKED MUCH.
HE NEVER TALKED MUCH.
AND THAT WAS IT.
NO FRIENDSHIP.
NO CONVERSATION.
NO HISTORY.
JUST TWO STRANGERS WHO HAPPENED TO EXIST IN THE SAME SPACE.
OMA WAS THE TYPE OF GIRL WHO KEPT HER LIFE INSIDE HER HEAD.
SHE WAS A NOVELIST.
SHE WROTE THINGS SHE COULD NEVER SAY OUT LOUD.
SHE WAS CALM ON THE OUTSIDE BUT THINKING TOO MUCH ON THE INSIDE.
SHE HAD NO FRIENDS IN THIS NEW STATE.
SHE DIDN’T TRY TO MAKE ANY.
MANUEL WAS DIFFERENT IN A DIFFERENT WAY.
CALM.
COLLECTED.
ALWAYS AT THE BACK OF THE CLASSROOM LIKE HE WAS OBSERVING LIFE INSTEAD OF LIVING IT.
HE WAS THE GUY EVERYBODY WANTED TO KNOW.
EVERY GIRL TALKED ABOUT HIM.
EVERY GUY RESPECTED HIM.
BUT NOBODY REALLY KNEW HIM.
HE DIDN’T SHOW ANGER.
HE DIDN’T SHOUT.
HE DIDN’T REACT MUCH.
JUST QUIET CONTROL.
BUT INSIDE—
HE WAS ALWAYS THINKING.
ALWAYS WATCHING.
ALWAYS NOTICING EVERYTHING.
BUT STILL—
THEY WERE NOTHING TO EACH OTHER.
NOT EVEN FRIENDS.
UNTIL THE DAY OF THE SCHOOL GROUP PARTY.
THE SCHOOL GROUP PARTY WAS POSTED IN THE CLASS WHATSAPP GROUP.
EVERYONE WAS ADDING EACH OTHER.
MAKING PLANS.
TALKING.
LAUGHING
BUT OMA DIDN’T CARE.
SHE MUTED THE GROUP AND WENT BACK TO HER NOVEL WRITING.
THEN—
A MESSAGE CAME.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
SHE IGNORED IT.
ANOTHER MESSAGE.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
“Are you oma
OMA PAUSED.
SHE STARRED AT THE SCREEN.
SHE dosnt know the name Manuel
But
EVERYONE KNEW THE NAME.
BUT SHE HAD NEVER SPOKEN TO HIM BEFORE.
NEVER ONCE
SHE REPLIED:
“WHO???
THREE DOTS APPEARED IMMEDIATELY.
THEN DISAPPEARED.
THEN APPEARED AGAIN.
FINALLY:
“GROUP PARTY.”
OMA BLINKED.
SHE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHY HE TEXTED HER SPECIFICALLY.
SHE WASN’T CLOSE TO ANYONE.
SHE WASN’T EVEN ACTIVE IN GROUP CHAT.
BUT SOMETHING ABOUT IT FELT STRANGE.
He ADDED Her
AND LEFT THE CHAT AGAIN.
THE NEXT DAY IN CLASS.
SAME ROUTINE.
OMA AT THE FRONT.
MANUEL AT THE BACK.
NOTHING CHANGED.
EXCEPT—
HE LOOKED AT HER ONCE.
JUST ONCE.
AND SHE NOTICED.
SHE DIDN’T LOOK BACK.
BUT SHE FELT IT.
THE DAY OF THE PARTY CAME.
OMA DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO GO.
BUT HER CLASSMATE INSISTED.
“YOU’RE COMING. EVEN IF YOU DON’T TALK.
SO SHE WENT.
BLACK DRESS.
PINK HAIR.
EARPHONES IN HER BAG.
FACE CALM.
EYES EMPTY OF INTEREST.
THE PARTY WAS LOUD.
TOO LOUD.
SHE STAYED OUTSIDE FIRST.
THEN MOVED INSIDE.
THEN BACK OUTSIDE AGAIN.
SHE DIDN’T FIT ANYWHERE.
SHE WAS ABOUT TO LEAVE WHEN HER PHONE VIBRATED.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:
“WHERE ARE YOU?
SHE STOPPED.
SHE LOOKED AROUND
ANOTHER MESSAGE:
“DON’T LEAVE YET.”
SHE FROWNED.
HOW DID HE EVEN KNOW?
SHE TURNED AROUND SLOWLY.
AND THAT WAS WHEN SHE SAW HIM.
MANUEL.
LEANING AGAINST THE WALL NEAR THE BACK ENTRANCE.
CALM AS ALWAYS.
HANDS IN HIS POCKET.
LOOKING EXACTLY LIKE HE ALWAYS LOOKED.
NONCHALANT.
QUIET.
UNBOTHERED.
BUT THIS TIME—
HE WAS WAITING FOR HER.
OMA STARED AT HIM.
SHE DIDN’T WALK TOWARD HIM IMMEDIATELY.
SHE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHY HE TEXTED HER
OR WHY HE WAS LOOKING FOR HER.
THEY WERE NOTHING.
JUST CLASSMATES.
HE STRAIGHTENED A LITTLE WHEN HE SAW HER.
AND SPOKE FOR THE FIRST TIME THAT DAY.
“YOU WERE GOING TO LEAVE WITHOUT COMING INSIDE.”
OMA CROSSED HER ARMS
“WHY DO YOU CARE?”
A SMALL PAUSE
THEN HE SAID:
“YOU’RE IN MY GROUP.”
SHE BLINKED.
THAT WAS IT?
THAT WAS WHY HE TEXTED HER?
BUT SOMETHING FELT OFF.
NOT IN A BAD WAY.
JUST… STRANGE.
LIKE THIS WAS THE START OF SOMETHING THEY BOTH DIDN’T PLAN FOR.
OMA LOOKED AT HIM CAREFULLY.
HE LOOKED BACK CALMLY.
NO EMOTION.
NO PRESSURE.
JUST QUIET EYE CONTACT.
TWO STRANGERS.
TWO QUIET MINDS.
TWO SECRETIVE PEOPLE WHO HAD NEVER SPOKEN BEFORE—
STANDING TOO CLOSE TO IGNORE ANYMORE.
AND THAT WAS HOW IT STARTED.
