Chapter Fifteen: Lost in Thought

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The wind was cold as it swept across the school yard, carrying with it the scent of rain that still lingered in the air. The leaves on the trees swayed with the breeze, their edges curling as if they, too, felt the weight of the changing season. Rae stood by the school gate, the pale grey sky above mirroring the storm brewing within her chest.

It had been a week since her conversation with Henry in the library, and though she'd made progress in allowing herself to trust him, Rae still felt like she was standing at the edge of something vast, something that both frightened and exhilarated her. She hadn't expected things to feel so... complicated. She had thought that maybe, after all the time spent pushing Henry away, she would be able to come to terms with her feelings for him. But the closer she got to him, the more she questioned herself.

Her thoughts were scattered, tangled in the web of uncertainty. She felt a wave of longing for the simplicity of before—the quiet, solitary days when nothing was expected of her, when the world around her felt manageable. But at the same time, she could feel herself changing, shifting in a way she didn't fully understand. And Henry—Henry had become a constant in her life, a presence that both calmed and unsettled her in equal measure.

She didn't know what to make of it.

Rae wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her black hoodie tighter as the cold wind swept past her. Her mind drifted back to their conversation—his words, his insistence that he wasn't going anywhere. He had said he wasn't asking for everything, that she didn't have to have all the answers. But Rae couldn't shake the feeling that she was already in too deep. She wasn't the kind of person who easily gave up control, and with Henry, everything felt out of her hands.

She was falling for him, and it terrified her.

She didn't know how to be open. She didn't know how to give herself to someone without holding something back. And yet, every time she saw him—whether in the hallway, sitting in class, or walking across the courtyard—her heart seemed to reach for him.

"Rae."

She jolted, her heart skipping at the sound of Henry's voice behind her. She turned to see him walking toward her, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his dark hair ruffled by the wind. His expression was soft, his gaze focused on her as he approached.

"Hey," he said, offering her a small smile, though there was a quiet concern in his eyes.

"Hey," Rae replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

Henry stopped just a few feet away, watching her for a long moment. "You okay?"

Rae nodded, though she could feel the unease stirring in her chest. She didn't know how to explain the chaos inside her. How could she tell him she wasn't sure what she was feeling anymore? How could she explain the fear that gripped her every time they spoke about anything more than surface-level details?

"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. It felt hollow, but it was all she could offer.

Henry didn't seem convinced. He tilted his head, studying her with a quiet intensity that made Rae want to look away. "Rae, you don't have to pretend with me."

Her breath caught, the words hitting her harder than she expected. "I'm not pretending," she whispered, though the lie hung between them, heavier than she cared to admit.

Henry's eyes softened, and he took a small step forward. "Then what's going on? You've been so distant lately."

Rae wanted to explain. She wanted to tell him everything that was racing through her mind—the confusion, the longing, the fear. But her mouth felt dry, and the words seemed to get caught somewhere deep inside her, tangled in the mess she hadn't yet figured out how to sort through.

"I don't know," she said, her voice barely audible. "I just... I don't know how to do this."

Henry stepped closer, his presence both grounding and overwhelming. "It's okay to not have everything figured out. You don't have to have all the answers, Rae."

Rae looked up at him, the weight of his words settling over her like a blanket. He was so patient, so certain, but the more he reassured her, the more she felt like a fraud. She wasn't ready to let go of the control she had fought so hard to maintain. She wasn't ready to let someone else in.

"I'm not good at this," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I've spent so long building walls around myself, and now it feels like they're all coming down, and I don't know what to do."

Henry reached out, his hand gently brushing hers, grounding her in the moment. "You don't have to know right now. I'm not asking for you to change overnight. I just want to be here for you. That's all."

Rae's heart thudded painfully in her chest, and for a moment, all she could do was stand there, his hand resting in hers, the quiet sounds of the world around them fading into the background. The connection between them felt more real than ever, but Rae was afraid of what it meant, afraid of what would happen if she let go of the last part of herself that still clung to the past.

But in that moment, with Henry's touch anchoring her to reality, Rae realized that maybe—just maybe—she didn't have to have everything figured out. Maybe, for once, she could let herself be lost in the uncertainty.

"I'm scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Henry replied, his voice soft but steady. "And that's okay. I'm not going anywhere, Rae. I promise."

And for the first time in a long time, Rae believed him.

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