Double Star

8 : Almost a Kiss.

PoV Sarah:

"Jordan?"

I froze, staring at the person in front of me, disbelief rippling through me. It couldn't be... but it was. My childhood friend, my old classmate—Jordan Smith. The cacophony of footsteps and chatter in the hall seemed to fade into the background as I questioned reality. Was I dreaming?

"No, you're not dreaming. It's REALLY me."
His voice cut through my spiraling thoughts—soft but edged with something I couldn't quite place. Sadness? Anger? His words jolted me, and with them came a flood of memories I wished I could bury. I had abandoned him. He had reached out, and I had turned away. After my parents' death, I couldn't face anyone. I shut out the world, craving a fresh start where no one would pity me every time I spoke. But now, standing before him, I realized the cost of my cowardice: I had destroyed a bond that should have lasted a lifetime.

"I... I'm sorry," I murmured. The words felt weak and meaningless, but they were all I had. To my shock, Jordan stepped closer, closing the space between us. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a hug.

"Sarah..." he whispered, a sigh escaping his lips. "I'm not mad at you."

His words hit me like a balm on a raw wound, easing the ache in my chest. Of course, he wasn't angry—Jordan was always understanding. But that didn't absolve me. He wasn't responsible for my pain, yet I had pushed him away, assuming no one could ever understand. My selfishness had hurt him, and now I didn't know how to make it right.

"So, how's life? I haven't seen you in forever." Jordan's voice broke the tension. His hands rested lightly on my shoulders, and his smile was disarming. "Allison and Anna wouldn't stop talking about you after you left. They missed you so much."

"Allison and Anna?" I blinked, shocked. I had convinced myself they'd forgotten me entirely.

"And me," he added, scratching the back of his neck. His cheeks flushed slightly. "I missed you too."

That admission brought a small smile to my lips. But then, as if summoning courage, Jordan leaned closer. His hazel eyes flicked nervously to the curious stares of passing students.

"Let's talk somewhere else," I said, grabbing his arm and leading him to a quieter corner.

"What are you doing here, Jordan?" I asked once we were alone.

He hesitated, looking down as if searching for the right words. "After your parents... after they passed, I tried to reach you. I called and came to your house, but you wouldn't see me. At first, I didn't understand why. We were so close. Why shut me out? But eventually, I realized you needed time. So, I waited. I kept hoping you'd come back to school, but when I found out you left, I... I couldn't accept it. I had to see you again." He paused, his voice breaking slightly. "That's why I transferred here—to tell you this."

"Tell me what?" I whispered, dreading the answer.

"I love you, Sarah."

His confession stunned me. For a moment, I couldn't process it. But the way his eyes bore into mine left no room for doubt. Jordan was in love with me.

"I tried to forget you," he continued. "I really did. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to tell you."

I was speechless. My heart ached, not with love but with guilt. How could I tell him I didn't feel the same? He'd come so far, put so much on the line, only for me to stand here, unable to reciprocate.

"Maybe you don't feel the same, and that's okay," he added, his voice softening. "But I—"

"Jordan." I cut him off, placing a finger gently on his lips. The intensity of his gaze was too much, and I felt suffocated by the weight of the moment.