Page 41 of Where Your Scars Meet Mine
I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him.
The energy shifts before I even see him. Conversations stutter. A few girls near the entryway straighten instinctively, eyes locking onto the tall figure stepping inside. Silas nudges the door closed behind him, scanning the room once before his gaze lands on me.
It lingers.
Just long enough to remind me he’s still there.
Women swarm him almost instantly, drawn to the sharp angles and quiet danger he wears like a second skin. Their laughter rises, no shame in any of their expressions.
Shaking my head once at him, I give him the silent warning, before looking away entirely. Whatever happened in that car stays there.
“Hey, where’s-” Maria starts.
Cheyenne shakes her head quickly, cutting her off before she can finish the question.
“Right,” Maria recovers smoothly. “Well, Octavia… you know Kadin, right?” She smiles, tugging on the sleeve of the guy standing beside her.
Kadin turns fully toward us, abandoning whatever half-drunk conversation he was having. His smile is easy, warm in a way that doesn’t feel complicated.
“I think we have intro to psych together,” he says, his eyes meeting mine with recognition. “Maria’s been telling me all about you.”
His attention stays on me.
No sharp edges.
No calculated tension.
Just uncomplicated interest.
For the first time all night, my lungs feel like they might actually work the way they’re supposed to.
Maria’s eyes flick between me and Kadin like she’s lining up chess pieces.
“Chey,” she says suddenly, clearing her throat with exaggerated importance. “Can you help me with something in the bathroom?”
Cheyenne blinks at her, already halfway to grabbing another drink from someone passing by. “Now?” she groans dramatically.
“Now,” Maria insists, her fingers wrapping around Cheyenne’s wrist before she can protest again. As they retreat into the crowd, Maria throws me a wink that’s anything but subtle.
“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head as they disappear down the hallway.
Kadin laughs softly beside me. “I can’t say your friend was subtle about wanting us to properly meet,” he says, topping off my cup without asking. “But I’m glad she pushed it. I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you.”
The statement catches me off guard.
“Me?” The word slips out in a quiet laugh.
“Yes, you.” His smile deepens, but it’s not cocky. It’s genuine. “You’re the only other person in that class who ever speaks up. Half the time it feels like it’s just you and me arguing with the professor.”
The memory draws a small smile from me. Intro to Psych is usually a sea of blank faces and half-hearted participation. I’d noticed him too, the way he challenged ideas without sounding like he was trying to impress anyone.
Sipping from his own cup, Kadin lets his eyes drift briefly, taking me in without making it obvious. The glance is warm, curious rather than possessive.
“Weird to see me in something other than a sweater?” I laugh, gesturing toward my outfit.
He shakes his head slowly, a faint grin tugging at his mouth as he licks a stray drop from the rim of his cup.
“Weird isn’t the word I’d use.”
