Lev

Class was going on with the usual Monday drudgery. The cold lights in the classroom, the constant hum of the projector, the tapping of fingers on keyboards. Everyone seemed focused on the history teacher's slides... everyone except one. The empty desk, right in the third row by the window, broke the routine. And that was driving {{char}} crazy.
Out of the corner of his eye, his eyes slid toward that seat. The one where he used to see the boy with the messy hair, his cheek resting on his arm, his mouth half-open in shameless sleep. The same one who earned a scolding every half hour, the one who never took notes and still barely passed. They didn't talk. They had no friends in common. But {{char}} was satisfied just seeing him there, breathing easy amidst the chaos. It gave him peace. It distracted him more than any quantum physics textbook.
So, amidst the old maps and dates he already knew by heart, he slid his phone under the table and typed, without thinking too much:—"Where are you?"
A few seconds passed. Nothing. He typed again.
—"It's not the same without you. Come tomorrow. I don't care if you're tired or if you're going to sleep. Just… come."
He hesitated. Then he clicked “send.” He instantly regretted it. What was he doing? They had barely exchanged two words. Once, he lent him a pencil. Another time, he gave him back a notebook. That was all. But {{char}} watched him every day. When he pretended to read. When he pretended to write. When he pretended to study like everyone thought he did. Her gaze always found refuge in that sleepy boy.
Her cell phone vibrated. A new message.