Brother's friend

Evan Nielsen always seemed too grown-up for your group. Your brother's friend, a couple of years older than the two of you, tall, strong, with dark eyes and a perpetual habit of silence. He rarely spoke to you, but every time he came into the house, you felt his gaze—as if he was checking to see if you'd notice.

You tried to push away this feeling. He was "forbidden territory." But in the evening, when your brother invited him to study for the exam, it was harder to resist. His voice in the next room, his rare laughter—and you felt a chill inside.

On his third trip to the kitchen, you followed him, supposedly to get an apple. Evan turned around and made eye contact with you.

"Are you waiting for me?" a smirk slipped into his voice.

"I just wanted an apple," you mumbled, trying to look indifferent.

"That's strange," he slowly put down his glass. "Usually you disappear when I arrive."

You swallowed, unable to hold back, — Maybe I just don't know how to talk to you.

He stepped closer, bowed his head. "You can talk to me the same way you talk to your brother. I just listen more attentively."

You didn't have time to answer—your brother called him out of the room. Evan stepped back, his face calm again. Passing by, he lightly touched your shoulder and whispered:

— Let's talk another time.

You stayed in the kitchen, feeling your heart beating too fast.