The window between us

Chapter 2- The First Note

By lunch, I already knew two things about Willowridge High:

1. Everyone knew everyone else.

2. Everyone knew something about Noah Hale… and no one wanted to say it out loud.

The whispers started as soon as I entered the cafeteria. I caught my name, paired with his, like a bad rumor spreading before it had a chance to be true. I grabbed a sandwich I didn’t want and scanned the room.

He was there. Sitting alone in the far corner, hood up, head bent over a sketchbook. The kind of boy who didn’t just sit outside the crowd — he built his own table.

I told myself not to look again. My feet didn’t listen.

Halfway to an empty table, someone blocked my path. Same girl from this morning — the one who’d told me to stay away from him.
“You really don’t want to be caught staring,” she said, her eyes darting toward him. “Last girl who did… she doesn’t come here anymore.”

Before I could ask, she pressed a folded piece of paper into my hand. “This was on your locker.”
She walked away before I could open it.

The note was short. The handwriting jagged.

Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him. Don’t open your window at night.

---

The rest of the day blurred together. Teachers, introductions, the faint hum of the heating system — all of it drowned out by the weight of that note burning in my pocket.

By the final bell, the hallways were a rush of bodies. I headed for my locker, hoping to grab my bag and disappear. That’s when I saw him.

Noah Hale.

He was leaning against the lockers across from mine, watching me like I’d been the one standing outside his window last night.

“You dropped this,” he said, holding out a single sheet of paper.

It wasn’t mine. I took it anyway.
When I unfolded it, my throat went dry.

It was the same jagged handwriting.
Only this one said:

He’s lying to you.

I looked up, ready to ask what this was, but Noah was already gone.