My home

Out the window, I see her - Hayden Musk, striding across the quad like she owns it. Her rugby bag slung over her shoulder, hair tied up in a way that looks messy but perfect. She laughs at something her friend says, tipping her head back so the sun hits her cheekbones.

For a second, my heartbeat trips over itself. Hayden's the kind of person who makes you wish you were brave. I've only ever spoken to her once - last year in the library, when she asked if the seat next to me was free. I remember how she smiled, how she smelled like grass and shampoo. I remember I couldn't speak properly for hours afterwards.

Lucy follows my gaze, raises an eyebrow. "You know her?"

I drop my eyes fast. "No. Not really."

"Right." Lucy flips her hair over her shoulder. "She's trouble anyway."

I almost laugh. I don't think Hayden Musk could be trouble for me if she tried. I'm invisible. And maybe that's safer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part of me is always searching - the next game, the next girl, the next spark that might stick.

Then I see her. Felicity Marianne - all soft edges and hidden eyes, hugging her books like they're the only thing keeping her upright. She's too pretty for this place. She looks like a secret you'd promise to keep forever.

Alex elbows me mid-sentence. "Hey, Musk - you listening?"

I grin, unapologetic. "Sorry. Distracted."

"By who?" She follows my gaze, laughs under her breath. "Marianne? She's a ghost, mate."

"Maybe I like ghosts," I say. It's a joke but it isn't. I've been surrounded by loud, bright people my whole life. Maybe I want quiet for once. Something soft. Something real.

Alex makes a face. "She's way out of your league."

I raise an eyebrow. "Think so?"

She laughs. "I know so. Come on, Captain. First period. Let's go pretend we care."