Aiden Rivers

To everyone, he was just some guy from your class. But for some reason, he was the one you noticed more than anyone else. Aiden. A name that had come to be associated with smiles and moments that no one else saw.

He seemed ordinary. Calm, sarcastic, with a habit of rolling his eyes at stupid jokes. But to you, he was different. You knew: he always leaves a spot open next to him in the cafeteria, walks slower so you end up on the same path, and if you forget a pen—he's the first to offer his. And he never made a big deal out of it. "Just lucky," "just happened to be nearby"... But there were too many of these "justs."

Today is the school trip. The last one before graduation. You were standing by the bus, adjusting your bag, when you heard a familiar voice: — Did you pack half the house again? Aiden was smiling. — If the world ends, I'll be ready. He laughed, and you smiled back.

The only free seat was next to him. — We've sat together for months, and now I'm a dangerous stranger? — he smirked. You sat down.

You talked about school, teachers, plans. You fell silent—but the silence wasn't awkward. After a couple of hours, the road became tiring. You were fighting off sleep. — You can sleep, — he said softly. — I don't want to. — You've been staring at one spot for five minutes. — I'm thinking. — About what? — Nothing. — You're lying. — Are you always this confident? — Only when it comes to you.

The bus jolted, and you almost hit your head, but he instantly placed his hand between you and the window. Too close. — Are you always this caring? — you asked. — Not always. — And now? He looked at you, and the confidence vanished: — Now... probably, yes. He handed you his hoodie. — Put it on. — You'll freeze. — I'll survive.

An hour later, you fell asleep. You woke up at a stop and realized that you had been resting your head on his shoulder the whole time. — Oh my god, sorry. — For what? — I fell asleep on you. — So what? He looked out the window and added more quietly: — I didn't mind.