The next day, Lena didn't sit behind him.
She sat beside him.
Troy noticed the shift before he even looked up.
The chair scraped softly against the floor—too deliberate to be accidental, too quiet to draw attention from anyone else.
He didn't react immediately.
He finished writing the last line of his notes, closed his book, then turned his head.
Lena Vale met his gaze like she had been expecting it.
"Morning" she said.
Troy stared at her for a second longer than necessary. "…You switched seats."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
She shrugged, resting her chin lightly on her hand. "Better view."
"Of what?"
"You."
Troy didn't respond.
He just turned back to the front of the class as the teacher walked in.
But the silence between them wasn't empty.
It pressed.
The lesson started—something about chemical reactions again. Equations filled the board, numbers and symbols blurring together for most of the class.
Troy followed along.
He always did.
But today.
Today, he could feel her.
Not physically.
Not exactly.
Just… awareness.
Like something in the room was slightly out of place, and his mind refused to ignore it.
"You're distracted" Lena whispered.
Troy didn't look at her. "No, I'm not."
"You wrote the same number twice."
His pen stopped.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Then continued.
"…It's nothing."
"It's not like you to make mistakes."
That made him pause again.
Because she said it like she knew.
Troy turned his head slightly, voice low. "You've been watching me."
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No denial.
"Why?"
Lena's eyes didn't leave his. "Because you're trying very hard to be something."
"And what is that?"
She smiled faintly.
"Normal."
The word sat between them.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Unwelcome.
Troy looked away first. "Everyone's trying to be something."
"Not like you."
He exhaled slowly through his nose. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know enough."
The teacher's voice cut through the moment.
"Is there something you'd like to share, Miss Vale?"
Lena didn't flinch. "No, sir."
"Then I suggest you pay attention."
She nodded, calm as ever.
But as the class settled again.
She leaned slightly closer.
"Meet me after school" she whispered.
Troy frowned. "Why would I...."
"Because you want to."
He didn't answer.
But she leaned back like the conversation was already over.
And that bothered him more than it should have.
The rest of the day dragged.
Not because of the lessons.
Because of the thought.
Meet me after school.
Troy told himself he wouldn't go.
There was no reason to.
No benefit.
No logic.
But when the final bell rang.
His steps didn't take him home.
He found her waiting near the back of the school grounds, close to where the fence curved around an empty lot no one used anymore.
Lena stood with her hands in her jacket pockets, gaze drifting lazily over the cracked pavement.
"You came" she said without turning.
Troy stopped a few feet away. "This better not be a waste of time."
She glanced at him, a small smile forming. "That depends."
"On what?"
"On how honest you're willing to be."
Troy crossed his arms slightly. "You're starting to sound annoying."
"And you're starting to sound defensive."
A pause.
Wind moved faintly through the space, carrying the dry scent of dust and old concrete.
"What do you want, Lena?" Troy asked.
Her expression shifted—just slightly.
Less playful.
More focused.
"I want to understand you."
"Why?"
"Because you don't make sense."
Troy let out a short, humorless breath. "That sounds like a you problem."
"Maybe" she said. "But I don't think so."
She stepped past him without warning.
Toward the empty lot.
Troy hesitated.
Then followed.
The place was abandoned.
Broken bricks, scattered debris, patches of dry grass pushing through cracks in the ground.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Lena stopped near a rusted metal drum lying on its side.
She nudged it with her foot, rolling it slightly before crouching down.
"What are you doing?" Troy asked.
She didn't answer.
Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter.
Troy's body went still.
She flicked it open.
Click.
A small flame sprang to life.
For a moment.
Nothing else existed.
Troy's gaze locked onto it instantly.
The way it moved.
The way it breathed.
Small. Controlled. Alive.
"You said you don't care about fire" Lena said quietly.
Troy's voice came out lower than usual. "…I don't."
"Then prove it."
She held the lighter out toward him.
The flame flickered slightly in the breeze.
Troy didn't move.
Didn't speak.
But something inside him.
Shifted.
"It's just a flame" Lena continued. "Nothing special."
Her eyes stayed on him, watching every detail.
"Most people would ignore it."
Troy's fingers twitched.
"Go ahead" she said softly. "Blow it out."
Silence.
His chest felt tight.
Not overwhelming.
Not like before.
But enough.
Enough to notice.
The flame danced.
Just a little.
'You remember.'
Troy took a step forward.
Then another.
His eyes never left the flame.
Lena didn't move.
Didn't react.
She just watched.
"Blow it out" she repeated.
Troy leaned in slightly.
Close enough to feel the warmth.
Close enough to smell it.
His breath hitched.
For a second.
A single second.
The world narrowed.
Then.
He exhaled.
The flame vanished.
Smoke curled upward, thin and fading.
Silence.
Troy stepped back immediately.
Too fast.
"There" he said, voice sharper than before. "Done."
Lena closed the lighter slowly.
Click.
"But you didn't want to," she said.
Troy's eyes snapped to hers. "What?"
"You hesitated."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"It means everything."
Irritation flared.
Real this time.
"You set that up," Troy said. "You brought me here just to...what? Test me?"
"Yes."
"At least you're honest."
Lena stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not cautious.
Just… certain.
"You felt something" she said.
Troy's jaw tightened.
"No."
"You did."
"I said no."
Her voice didn't rise.
Didn't change.
"You're lying."
That was it.
Something snapped.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just.
Clean.
"Stop acting like you know me" Troy said, his voice suddenly cold.
Lena didn't back away.
"Then show me I'm wrong."
The air between them shifted.
Tension tightening, pulling.
Friction.
"You want to see?" Troy asked quietly.
For the first time.
Lena hesitated.
Just a little.
But she nodded.
"…Fine."
Troy reached into his pocket.
Slow.
Deliberate.
And pulled something out.
A small cardboard box.
Matches.
Lena's eyes flickered.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Troy slid one match free.
Held it between his fingers.
"You think you understand this?" he said.
His voice was steady.
Too steady.
He struck the match.
Fshhh.
Flame.
Bigger than the lighter.
Sharper.
Hungrier.
Troy stared at it.
And this time.
He didn't hide it.
Something in his expression changed.
Not fully.
Not completely.
But enough.
The calm cracked.
Lena saw it.
Every piece.
"…Troy," she said softly.
But he didn't respond.
The flame reflected in his eyes.
Dancing.
Alive.
And for the first time in years.
He didn't look away.