The Knock on the Window

Part 4: The Push and Pull

The days after the Church's Chicken encounter and the awkward realization that his family was practically living in my backyard felt like a strange mix of déjà vu and anticipation. I kept wondering if the universe was playing some sort of cruel joke on me, or if I was just hyper-aware of him now that I knew we were somehow tied to the same space.

I tried to brush it off, telling myself that he was just another guy. But every time I saw him or heard his name in passing, something shifted inside me—a small, undeniable pull. It wasn't just curiosity anymore. It was a tension, a kind of electric charge that hovered in the air whenever we crossed paths.

It was late in the afternoon when Chloe and I were walking home again. The weather had turned, and there was a slight chill in the air that hinted at autumn's arrival. We passed by the construction site again, where his mom was still overseeing the progress of the house. But this time, he was there too.

I noticed him before he saw me. He was standing by the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, talking to a couple of guys I didn't recognize. He didn't look like he was in a rush, like he had nowhere to be. His eyes were distant, but I could tell he was waiting for something—or someone.

Me, I thought, my heart skipping a beat.

Chloe, of course, noticed me slowing down. She raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension in my posture. "What's going on with you today? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I tried to act casual, pretending I hadn't noticed him yet. But my pulse was already racing, my body on high alert.

"Nothing," I muttered, trying to sound calm, but my voice betrayed me. "Just... tired."

Chloe didn't buy it. "Uh-huh. Sure. You're acting weird, though. You're staring over there like he's some kind of celebrity or something."

I glanced over at him, hoping to make it look like it was no big deal, but my stomach twisted when I saw that he was already looking at me.

For a split second, our eyes locked, and I felt my whole body freeze. That familiar smirk spread across his face like he was savoring the moment. This was it. The connection. The pull.

"Hey," Chloe said, poking me in the side, "he's looking right at you."

I could feel my face heating up, but I couldn't look away. He hadn't moved, hadn't even blinked. He was watching me, waiting for some kind of reaction, and for once, I couldn't hide the way it made me feel—this stupid mix of flustered and... intrigued.

Chloe nudged me again, more insistently this time. "Okay, seriously, what is going on? I thought you were over this."

I was about to respond, but just as the words left my mouth, he did something that made my heart jump. Without breaking eye contact, he stepped away from his group and walked toward us, casually, like he had all the time in the world.

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Why was he coming over?

Chloe noticed my panicked expression, and her teasing tone shifted to something more concerned. "He's coming this way. Should we just... keep walking?"

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to keep walking, act like nothing was happening, pretend I didn't feel the butterflies forming in my stomach. But I couldn't move. My legs were rooted to the spot.

Before I could even respond, he was standing in front of me.

"Hey," he said, his voice casual but with an edge that made my breath hitch. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

I didn't know what to say. The words caught in my throat, and I couldn't tell if it was the shock of him being this close or the way he was looking at me, like he knew something I didn't.

Chloe, ever the bold one, raised an eyebrow. "You've been meaning to talk to her, huh?" she said, with just a hint of sarcasm. "You should've done that a couple of days ago when you were knocking on windows."

His lips quirked up in that familiar, maddening grin. "I didn't think she was ready for that," he said, his eyes flicking over to me.

I didn't know whether to laugh or to tell him to get lost. The whole situation felt so wrong—and yet, at the same time, I couldn't deny that my curiosity was starting to outweigh the discomfort. What was it about him? Why did I feel this magnetic pull every time he was around?

He turned back to Chloe, clearly unfazed by her sarcasm. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to make her uncomfortable," he said, his voice low, almost like an apology.

Chloe just shrugged. "Don't apologize to me. I'm not the one you need to worry about."

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks again, and I finally found my voice. "What do you want?" I asked, trying to sound composed, but it came out more hesitant than I intended.

His gaze flicked to me again, and the smirk faded for just a moment, replaced by something more serious. "I just wanted to talk. Get to know you better. I think you've been avoiding me, and I don't like being ignored."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Part of me wanted to tell him to go away, to leave me alone for good. But another part—something deeper—felt... intrigued. Was he really just trying to get to know me? Or was this just another game?

Before I could make up my mind, Chloe's phone buzzed, breaking the tension. "Hey, I gotta go. I'll catch up with you later."

I watched her give me one last amused look before walking off, leaving me alone with him.

The moment we were alone, he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping lower. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, you know. I just think we've got some kind of... connection."

The words hit me like a jolt of electricity, and for a moment, I wasn't sure if I was more confused or drawn in.

"Maybe you're right," I said quietly, before I even realized what I was admitting. "Maybe we do."

And just like that, the tension between us shifted again. I wasn't sure where this was going or if I even wanted to find out. But whatever this was—it wasn't going away. And it seemed like neither of us was ready to let it go.