The group stepped onto Mara's driveway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the suburban street. Backpacks slung, notebooks in hand, the girls followed Mara into the house, chattering quietly but still glancing at Gael as he moved beside her. Inside, Mara led them to the living room, where the coffee table was already cleared for papers, laptops, and reference books. "All right," she said, dropping her backpack near the couch, "let's get this project done. No distractions… except for Gael, apparently." She smirked, glancing at him, noting the calm precision with which he unpacked his notebook and pens. Gael slid into his usual spot on the floor beside the table, arranging his materials with his typical meticulous care. The girls exchanged small, conspiratorial glances. Even in this relaxed, homey environment, his presence was magnetic — the faint sheen of sweat from earlier now gone, but the quiet intensity remained.
Vivienne leaned forward, whispering to Selene, "Every time he moves… it's like he's commanding the room without even trying." Iris rolled her eyes but smiled. "I know. It's unfair. And the way Mara just… interacts with him like he's normal? Bold." Mara opened her laptop and began typing notes, glancing occasionally at Gael as he wrote quietly beside her. "Okay, everyone," she said, her voice focused but playful, "let's finish the project so we can actually relax tonight." The girls spread out around the table, papers and laptops forming organized chaos. Gael observed their movements, cataloging details silently, occasionally offering precise, measured input when Mara asked a question, but never more than necessary. His calm, unreadable presence framed the room, drawing attention without effort, while the girls focused on their work, partially in awe, partially amused, and partially intrigued. Hours passed as they worked methodically. The hum of laptops, scribbling pens, and occasional whispered jokes filled the room. Gael answered questions succinctly, his voice even and steady, his movements precise — yet each subtle gesture seemed to heighten the girls' fascination.
Finally, Mara leaned back, stretching. "All done. That's it. We're officially finished with the project." Gael closed his notebook carefully and stood, giving a polite nod. "Good work," he said simply, before grabbing his backpack. "I should head home." As he moved toward the door, the girls exchanged glances, a quiet mixture of admiration, curiosity, and lingering fascination in their expressions. Vivienne whispered, "He's… impossible." Mara smirked, following him to the door. "Yeah. But… we survived it." Once Gael had left, the room fell into a different kind of quiet. The girls gathered closer together, settling back onto the couch and floor, their laughter now softer, more conspiratorial. The conversation turned toward the topic that had been simmering all afternoon: Gael's alexithymia. "So," Naomi began, leaning forward, "I did some reading online… and it's like… wow. Now I get why he's… like that." Iris nodded. "Yeah. He's not ignoring people or being rude. He literally can't process emotions the way we do. That calm, untouchable thing? It's real."
Selene added, "And last night… Mara said he experienced something new. That makes so much sense now. He can feel sensations, but emotions? That's a whole other story." Vivienne leaned back, thoughtful. "It's kind of amazing, honestly. And scary. How do you connect with someone like that?" Mara smiled, her thoughts lingering on Gael even after he'd left. "You don't. You adjust. You observe. And maybe… enjoy the moments you can share." The girls fell into quiet contemplation, sharing stories, asking questions, and teasing gently — finally starting to understand the boy who had fascinated them all, whose silence and calm had drawn them in and refused to let go.
Once Gael had left, the room settled into a quieter rhythm. The girls kicked off their shoes, stretched, and flopped onto the couch and floor cushions, the earlier tension from the project replaced by curiosity and whispered speculation. Naomi leaned forward, tapping Mara's arm. "So… tell us. You were alone with him after the project yesterday, right?" Her tone was teasing, but her eyes glimmered with genuine curiosity. Mara groaned, rolling her eyes, but she didn't pull away. "Oh, come on, you guys. We didn't do anything scandalous this morning. The project is done, and that's all that matters." Iris snorted. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I'm the queen of France. Please. Mara, he's so… so hot. I mean, even when he's calm, it's like… dangerous." Selene leaned back against the couch, smirking. "Yeah, Mara. You're not disgusted or embarrassed at all, are you?" Mara smirked faintly, tilting her head. "Why would I be? He's… ridiculously attractive. Calm, controlled, and… you know, he's Gael. Not exactly your average guy."
Vivienne waved her hand dramatically. "Ridiculously attractive?! Girl, you're basically his girlfriend at this point. I can see it already." Calla burst out laughing. "Yeah, Mara! You walk in with him, your arm brushes his… and you survive a full-on lunch whispering about him like some kind of obsessed fan. Please. You're basically his girlfriend in spirit." Mara groaned again, laughing despite herself. "You're all insane. I'm not his girlfriend. I just… appreciate aesthetics. And patience-testing." Naomi leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, "Sure, patience-testing. That's one way to put it. But we all know the truth. You're smitten, Mara. Admit it." Mara raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Smitten? Maybe. But don't make it sound like I'm… you know, naive or something." Iris elbowed her playfully. "Naive? Nah. You're just brave… and clearly drawn to the impossible. Which is him, by the way."
The conversation shifted slightly, their teasing giving way to curiosity as the girls pulled up articles, notes, and anecdotes about alexithymia. They passed tablets and phones back and forth, reading aloud quietly, trying to understand what it meant to experience the world the way Gael did. "See," Vivienne said, pointing at a paragraph, "he can experience sensations — like touch, taste, even pleasure — but emotions like fear, anger, love… those are muted. Or delayed. Or completely absent." Selene nodded. "That explains so much. The calm. The precision. The way he just… exists without the chaos we feel." Naomi added softly, "And last night… Mara said he experienced something new. That makes so much sense now. The sensations are there, but the emotional part… not yet." Mara leaned back against the couch, a faint, mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Exactly. And that's why he's so… fascinating. Unreachable in some ways, and yet, every little moment with him is charged with this… intensity. And yeah… he's ridiculously attractive. Can't ignore that."
The girls exchanged a knowing look, smirking and laughing softly. "We get it," Calla said, nudging Mara lightly. "He's hot, he's mysterious, and apparently, you're already wrapped around his finger." Mara shook her head, still smiling. "Wrapped around his finger? Hardly. I'm just… aware. And patient. That's all." For a long while, they stayed like that, teasing, laughing, and diving into articles, discussions, and shared curiosity. The room was warm, cozy, and alive with quiet fascination — the kind of conversation that only comes after hours of shared work, whispered stories, and the thrill of trying to understand someone truly unique. The night outside deepened, casting soft shadows across the room, while inside, the girls continued their conversation, teasing Mara gently but learning more about the boy who had captured their fascination — the calm, handsome, and enigmatic Gael.
The living room had grown quieter now. Empty soda cans and snack wrappers cluttered the table, and the warm hum of the lamp filled the silence between conversations. Naomi was the first to break it. She leaned back, staring at the ceiling, her voice softer now. "You know… it's kind of strange. Gael doesn't even try, and yet people notice him. Not just us. Have you seen the way other girls look at him in class?" Iris groaned, dragging a pillow over her face. "Don't remind me. It's like he's some untouchable model who walked out of a magazine. If he wasn't so quiet, the entire school would probably be following him around." Vivienne smirked. "Untouchable, huh? Mara touched him." The room erupted in laughter again, Mara shoving Vivienne's shoulder with a dramatic groan. "Oh my God, you guys are never going to let me live that down, are you?"
Selene raised her brows, more thoughtful this time. "But really, think about it. Gael's different. He doesn't play the same games everyone else does. No mixed signals, no fake smiles, no drama. Just… him. Solid, calm, kind of unreadable, but… genuine." There was a pause. The teasing softened into something warmer. Calla pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them. "You know what's crazy? Even when he doesn't say much, he makes you feel like… you're being seen. Like, when he looks at you, it's not surface-level. It's deeper. Does that make sense?" Mara blinked, caught off guard by the truth in Calla's words. Her stomach twisted in a way she didn't want to admit. Naomi leaned forward, her voice lowering. "And Mara… don't get mad, but… maybe that's why you like him so much. Not just because he's attractive — which, let's be honest, is undeniable — but because when he's with you, you feel it. Even if he doesn't. You feel like you matter." The room went quiet again, all eyes on Mara. She swallowed, fiddling with the corner of a cushion. Her lips curled into a small, wry smile. "You guys think you know everything, don't you?"
"Pretty much," Iris teased, tossing a pillow at her. But Mara didn't deny it. Couldn't. Because deep down, Naomi was right. With Gael, there was no pretending, no masks. Just his steady presence, and the rare sparks of curiosity he let slip. And it terrified her how much she wanted more. Vivienne broke the silence with a playful grin. "So, we've decided then. Mara's unofficially, almost, kind of, maybe his girlfriend. We'll get the T-shirts printed next week." Everyone burst into laughter again, the heaviness fading back into giggles and inside jokes. Mara groaned, burying her face in a pillow, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her. She wasn't disgusted by the idea. Not at all. And as the night stretched on, the girls kept circling back to Gael — joking, speculating, trying to piece together the mystery behind his stillness. But Mara said little, her mind replaying the smallest details: the way he had kissed her first, the way his calm voice never wavered, the way his presence made everything feel like it mattered.
The laughter died down to soft giggles, the kind that came only when the night grew late and everyone was too tired to hold back. Pillows were sprawled across the floor, blankets tangled around legs, and the soft orange glow of the lamp made the room feel like their own secret bubble. Selene was the first to break the calm, her lips curving mischievously. "Okay, but imagine this. Gael, years from now, still quiet as ever… but secretly, he's, like, a billionaire with some massive company. And when he walks into a room, everyone freezes. Classic mysterious CEO energy." Naomi snorted. "Please. He's not dramatic enough for that. He's the type who would be rich and not tell a soul. Just casually disappear to a private island for a weekend and come back like nothing happened." Calla clapped her hands together with mock seriousness. "Or he's secretly a spy. That's why he doesn't react — he's trained. Every little detail, every move he makes, calculated. The boy probably knows fifty ways to kill a man with a pencil." The room erupted with laughter again, Iris rolling onto her stomach. "Oh my God, yes! No wonder he's always so calm. He's just sitting there, calculating who in the cafeteria is the biggest threat while pretending to read."
Mara shook her head, laughing despite herself. "You're all ridiculous." But Vivienne leaned in, eyes sparkling. "Okay, fine. Real talk. My theory? He's just… lonely. He doesn't know how to express it, so he fills the silence with… being perfect. Perfect looks, perfect posture, perfect grades. It's easier than trying to say what he feels." The laughter softened into a thoughtful silence. For a moment, Mara caught herself staring at the floor, her chest tightening. That theory was too close to the truth she'd glimpsed. Naomi, sensing the mood shift, smirked and nudged Mara with her elbow. "And this is where you come in, Mara. Obviously, you're the one who's going to break through. So, congrats — boyfriend duties unlocked." The girls howled with laughter again, chanting "Mara and Gael!" in obnoxious singsong voices. Mara buried her face in a pillow, groaning, though a smile tugged at her lips. "You're all impossible."
Selene raised her brows. "Oh, come on. Don't even act disgusted. You don't hate the idea." And Mara didn't answer. Couldn't. Because the truth sat heavy in her chest, impossible to deny. Gael was different. Gael was… Gael. And the idea of being the one person to reach him didn't disgust her at all. It terrified her how much she wanted it. One by one, the girls began sharing their half-serious, half-silly theories about him — that he was secretly a prince in exile, or that he'd end up becoming a famous artist, or that he'd never marry because no one could ever match his intensity. Each joke was followed by another round of giggles, another ripple of warmth filling the room. But through it all, Mara stayed quiet, her thoughts circling back to him in ways she didn't dare put into words.