The Moon Shines when the Sun Isn't Around

Part 11

The days following their subtle yet undeniably charged exchange were strange, though neither of them said it outright. Oreo and King fell back into their usual rhythm, but beneath the surface, everything felt different. They still shared snacks in class, still teased each other with playful jabs, but now there was an unspoken tension between them—something that neither of them wanted to fully acknowledge but also couldn't ignore.

It was almost as if they were both tiptoeing around whatever it was that had happened between them during that chocolate incident. Oreo found herself stealing glances at King when she thought he wasn't looking, and King, in turn, seemed more aware of her presence than he had ever been before. But despite the change, things stayed relatively normal. They acted like nothing had happened, as if their casual friendship hadn't been altered in the slightest.

A week after the chocolate moment, they found themselves back in class, just like any other day. The teacher was explaining some dull lecture about historical dates, and Oreo was half-listening while scrolling through her phone. King sat beside her, his gaze fixed lazily on the board but not really absorbing anything.

Oreo leaned over and whispered, "Hey, what's for snacks today?"

King, without looking away from the front of the room, pulled out a bag of chips and handed it to her. Oreo noticed how he still didn't make direct eye contact as he did it. That wasn't like him. Normally, he would crack some joke or make a sarcastic comment, but today he was unusually quiet.

"Just chips?" Oreo asked, raising an eyebrow.

King glanced at her, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You're lucky I brought anything at all."

Oreo smiled back, trying to suppress the strange feeling that something was off. She shrugged and opened the bag, popping a chip into her mouth. They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the drone of the teacher's voice. It wasn't long before Oreo decided to break the quiet.

"King," she whispered, "you've been acting weird lately."

He gave her a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. "Weird how?"

Oreo shrugged, playing with the edge of the chip bag. "I don't know. You're quieter. More... distant, I guess."

King leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. "I'm just tired," he said, his voice flat.

Oreo frowned. "That's it? You're tired?"

"Yeah," King replied, still not looking at her. "It's no big deal."

Oreo wasn't convinced. She could tell something was bothering him, but she didn't want to push. At least, not here. They were still in class, after all, and as much as she wanted to pry, now wasn't the time.

They passed the rest of the class in relative silence, exchanging a few more comments here and there but mostly keeping to themselves. Oreo couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with King, though. He wasn't himself. Normally, he was full of energy, always the one making her laugh, always the one brightening up her day. But lately, he'd seemed more reserved, more withdrawn.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of class, Oreo turned to King. "Want to walk home together?"

King paused, as if he was debating it, then nodded. "Yeah, sure."

The two of them walked out of the classroom and headed toward the exit. The afternoon sun was bright, casting long shadows across the pavement as they made their way down the familiar route. The walk home was part of their routine—something they'd done countless times before—but today, the silence between them felt heavier.