Untouchable

0.32

Ivy’s POV

I’ve never thought much about Lynne.

She was always just there.

The quiet one. The observer. The girl who blended in so well that you almost forgot she was part of the conversation.

But now?

Now something feels off.

Like I’m standing too close to a flame I didn’t realize was burning.

And for the first time—

I wonder if I should have been paying closer attention.

—

I find her in the library.

Tucked away in the farthest corner, away from the noise, away from the world.

The moment she sees me, her expression barely shifts.

No surprise. No curiosity.

Just a slow blink as she shuts her book and leans back in her chair, her head tilting slightly.

Like she was waiting for me.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to hunt people down,” she says smoothly.

I ignore the prickle at the back of my neck.

“I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk?” A slow, lazy smirk curves on her lips. “That’s new. You and I don’t really talk, do we?”

She’s right.

We don’t.

Not really.

We exist in the same space, in the same friend group. But our interactions have always been surface-level.

So why does it feel like I’ve stepped into a game I don’t know the rules to?

I sit down across from her, watching as she absentmindedly twirls a pen between her fingers.

There’s something unsettlingly calm about her.

Like she already knows how this conversation is going to go.

Like she’s the one leading it.

“Are you okay?” I ask, because it’s the safest place to start.

A low hum leaves her throat. “That’s a loaded question.”

I frown. “You’ve been… different lately.”

She lets out a soft chuckle, tapping the pen against the table. “Different how?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “You just feel… off.”

She stares at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.

And then she smiles.

But it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, Ivy,” she says lightly, almost amused. “You really have no idea, do you?”

I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

Because suddenly—

It feels like she knows something I don’t.

And I don’t like that feeling at all.

I straighten in my seat, holding her gaze.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Another lazy blink. Another amused smile.

And then she leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“If there was,” she murmurs, “I’d make sure you were the last to know.”

My pulse spikes.

It’s subtle—so subtle that if I wasn’t paying attention, I would have missed it.

But there’s something sharp in her words.

Something deliberate.

And I realize—

This isn’t the same Lynne I thought I knew.

This is someone else.

Someone who’s been hiding in plain sight.

And for the first time—

I wonder what else she’s been hiding.