Chapter 52: What He's Not Ready to Find (3)
ELEMENTARY SCHOOL – 6TH GRADE – CLASSROOM – MORNING
The afternoon sun slanted through the windows, casting long rectangles of light across the worn wooden floor. Dust motes drifted lazily in the golden beams, dancing like tiny stars against the chalkboard. The room smelled like chalk dust, old paper, and the faint sweetness of someone's fruit-scented eraser.
Mrs. Reyes stood at the front of the classroom, her pointer tapping against the board. She was in her late forties, with silver-streaked hair pulled back in a loose bun and reading glasses perched on her nose. Her voice was patient but firm, the kind of voice that had been teaching sixth graders for two decades and had seen it all.
"Now, class," she said, "who can tell me how to solve this problem?"
She tapped the board.
⅔ × ¾ = ?
A dozen hands shot into the air. A few students waved their arms like they were trying to flag down a taxi. Others sat quietly, hoping not to be called on.
Kaye's hand stayed down.
She wasn't looking at the board.
She was looking at El.
El sat two rows ahead of her. His back was straight. His brown hair fell across his forehead. His brown eyes were fixed on the board, calm and focused. His hand was raised — steady, not waving, just... present.
He always pays attention, Kaye thought. He always knows the answer. He's not like the others.
She watched the way his lips moved slightly as he worked through the problem in his head. The way his fingers tapped the desk, counting, calculating. The way he didn't look around to see if anyone else knew the answer.
He's perfect.
He's always been perfect.
And he's mine.
He just doesn't know it yet.
Kaye leaned forward. Her dark hair fell across her face. She tucked it behind her ear, her eyes never leaving El.
I'll make him see me.
One day.
I'll make him see me.
"El?"
Mrs. Reyes's voice cut through the classroom.
"Yes, ma'am?"
El stood. Walked to the board. Picked up the chalk. His handwriting was neat and careful.
⅔ × ¾ = ½
He stepped back. Waited.
Mrs. Reyes studied his work. A smile spread across her face.
"Excellent, El. That's exactly right. Can you explain how you got that?"
El nodded. "I multiplied the numerators first. Two times three is six. Then the denominators. Three times four is twelve. Then I simplified. Six over twelve is one over two."
"Very good. You may sit down."
El walked back to his seat. Sat down. His face was neutral. No pride. No smugness. Just... calm.
Kaye watched him the whole time.
He doesn't even know how smart he is.
That's what makes him perfect.
She looked away. Pretended to study the board.
But her mind was still on El.
I'll make him mine.
One day.
I'll make him mine.
---
The bell rang.
The classroom exploded into chaos. Chairs scraped against the floor. Voices rose. Feet pounded. The door swung open and a flood of sixth graders poured out into the hallway, heading toward the playground.
Kaye walked slowly. She wasn't in a rush. She never was.
She watched El from a distance. He was walking with Demi. They were talking about something — she couldn't hear what, but she saw El almost smile. Almost.
I wish he'd almost smile at me.
She followed them outside.
---
The playground was a chaos of children. Running. Shouting. Laughing. The swings creaked. The slide gleamed in the afternoon sun. A group of boys were playing basketball on the cracked concrete court. A cluster of girls sat on the bleachers, whispering about something.
El, Demi, Syka, and Kaye sat on the grass near the old oak tree. A circle of four.
Demi was already talking. He was always talking.
"Okay, okay," he said. "New game. Tag. I'm it."
"You're always it," Syka said.
"Because I'm fast."
"You're not fast. You're loud."
"Same thing."
"It's not the same thing."
"It's exactly the same thing."
El didn't argue. He was looking at the sky.
Kaye was looking at him.
He's always looking at nothing.
Or maybe he's looking at everything.
I don't know.
I want to know.
I want to know everything about him.
"El."
Syka's voice. Soft. Nervous.
El turned. "Yeah?"
"Can I talk to you?"
"About what?"
"Just... talk."
Demi was already running toward the swings. "I'll start without you!"
He was gone.
Syka stood. Held out her hand. "Come on."
El took it. Stood.
They walked to the edge of the playground. Near the fence. Away from the noise.
Kaye watched them go.
What is Syka doing?
Why did she pull him away?
Why does she look so—
"Kaye?"
She blinked. Demi was standing in front of her. Grinning. "You're it. Come on. Tag."
Kaye looked at him. Then at El and Syka. Then back at Demi.
"What are they talking about?" she asked.
Demi shrugged. "They're just talking. Come on. Tag."
He ran off.
Kaye didn't move.
She watched El and Syka standing near the fence. Syka was talking. El was listening.
What is she saying?
Why did she pull him away?
Why does she look so—
"Kaye!" Demi's voice again. "Come on!"
She blinked. Her thoughts scattered.
Later.
I'll think about it later.
Right now—
She ran.
---
Syka's heart was pounding.
She'd been waiting for this moment for weeks. Months. Maybe longer. She'd practiced what she was going to say. She'd written it down. She'd rehearsed it in front of the mirror.
But now that El was standing in front of her, she couldn't remember any of it.
"Syka?" El's voice was calm. Patient. "What did you want to talk about?"
Syka took a breath.
"I—"
"SYKA!"
Demi's voice. Running toward them. Waving his arms.
"You're it! You're it! Come on! We're playing tag!"
Syka's face fell. Just slightly. Just enough.
El looked at her. "What were you going to say?"
Nothing, she wanted to say. It's nothing.
But it wasn't nothing.
It was everything.
But Demi was already there. Already bouncing on his heels. Already waiting.
"I—" She stopped. Forced a smile. "Nothing. It was nothing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." Her voice was steady. Too steady. "Let's play another round."
They ran back to the game.
Kaye watched from the grass.
Her eyes were fixed on Syka.
What was she going to say?
Why did she look so—
So—
Like she was about to—
No.
It can't be.
She can't—
She can't take him from me.
He's mine.
He's always been mine.
"Kaye!"
Demi's voice. "Come on! You're it!"
She blinked. Her thoughts scattered.
Later.
I'll think about it later.
Right now—
She ran.
---
The rest of the day passed like any other.
Math. English. Science. History.
Kaye didn't pay attention to any of it.
She was still thinking about Syka. About the way she'd pulled El aside. About the way she'd looked at him.
She likes him.
She likes him.
She likes him.
The thought burned in her chest.
She can't have him.
He's mine.
He's always been mine.
I just have to make him see it.
---
The final bell rang.
Students rushed to pack their bags. The noise level rose. Chairs scraped. Books slammed. Voices overlapped.
Kaye packed slowly. Her eyes were still on El.
He was talking to Syka again.
She watched them.
She's always near him.
Always.
Why can't she just—
"Kaye."
She turned.
A girl was standing in front of her. Brown hair. Glasses. Holding a piece of paper.
"Are you coming to the Valentine's Day party?"
Kaye blinked. "What?"
"The Valentine's Day party. Next week. Are you coming?"
Kaye looked back at El and Syka.
He's going to be there.
She's going to be there.
Everyone's going to be there.
"Of course," she said.
The girl smiled. Walked away.
Kaye turned back to her bag.
Valentine's Day.
Next week.
That's when I'll do it.
That's when I'll make him see me.
That's when I'll—
She smiled.
I'll make him mine.
One way or another.