Chapter 7

Miley woke to the soft clatter of dishes downstairs.

For a moment, she stayed still.

The sound was familiar. Comfortably familiar. It fit into the quiet of the house the way it always did, like it had been waiting for her to notice it.

She checked the time on her phone, sighed softly, and pushed herself out of bed.
The floor was cold under her feet.

She had expected that.

She pulled on a skirt and a sweater without thinking too hard about it. The fabric settled easily, like she’d worn these exact clothes before – or something close enough that it didn’t matter. Her bag waited by the door where she’d left it. Exactly where it should be.

Everything felt… placed.

In the bathroom, she washed her face, tied her hair back loosely, and glanced at her reflection. She looked normal. Maybe a little tired. Nothing worth stopping over.

So she didn’t.

Downstairs, breakfast was already laid out.

Toast. Tea. Her mother moving quietly between the counter and the stove, as if she were following steps she’d memorized long ago.

“Morning,” her mother said.

“Morning,” Miley replied, sitting down.

Her father sat at the table, scrolling through his phone, glasses low on his nose. No one spoke much. They didn’t need to. The silence felt practiced – not empty, just routine.

Miley sipped her tea and stared out the window. The trees along the road stood tall and still, their branches barely moving. She had the strange sense that she knew exactly how they would look before she’d even glanced at them.

Outside, the air was cool and sharp. She adjusted the strap of her bag as she walked, watching her breath fade in front of her. The pavement curved gently ahead, cracked in places she stepped around without thinking.

She knew where to place her feet.

Blackwood High rose into view, solid and dark against the pale sky. The sight of it didn’t spark anything – no nerves, no excitement. Just recognition.

Inside, the halls were loud. Lockers slammed. Someone laughed too loudly near the stairs. Groups of students hurried past her, talking over one another.

Miley stepped aside automatically.

She spotted Anya near the notice board, flipping through her phone.

“There you are,” Anya said, looking up. “I was starting to think you got lost again.”

“Not yet,” Miley replied, smiling faintly.

They walked to class together. Anya talked – about homework she’d forgotten, about how long the day already felt. Miley listened, nodding at the right moments, her thoughts light, unbothered.

The classroom filled slowly. Chairs scraped. Bags hit the floor.

Miley sat down and placed her notebook neatly on the desk.

She noticed Felix a few moments later.

A few seats away. Leaning back in his chair.
Pen between his fingers. Laughing quietly with the guy next to him.

Her shoulders loosened before she realized they’d been tense.

When the teacher arrived and the room settled, Miley glanced his way again. Something in her chest nudged her forward – not urgency, just familiarity.

She turned slightly in her seat.

“Hey.”

Felix looked up.

For a second, his expression stayed polite. Neutral.

Then he hesitated.

“Uh… hey,” he said. “Sorry-what was your name again?”

The words landed gently.

Too gently.

Miley blinked. “Miley.”

“Oh. Right.” He smiled, nodding like the answer almost fit. “Sorry. I’m terrible with names.”

“That’s okay,” she said quickly, a small laugh slipping out before she could stop it. “I just-never mind.”

He shrugged apologetically and turned back toward the front as the teacher began speaking.

Miley faced forward too.

Her pen hovered over the page.

It’s fine, she told herself.

People forget. This happens.

She wrote down the notes, even though her handwriting came out messier than usual. She focused on the board, the lesson, the sound of the teacher’s voice – anything except the hollow space the moment had left behind.

At lunch, Anya talked through most of the meal, describing something dramatic that had happened in another class. Miley laughed when she was supposed to. Responded when expected.

Felix passed their table once, laughing with his friends.

He didn’t look her way.

It doesn’t mean anything, she thought.
It really doesn’t.

The afternoon passed quietly. Bells rang.
Pages turned. Time moved forward the way it always did.

By the time school ended, the sky had dimmed, clouds hanging low and heavy. Miley walked home at an easy pace, kicking a small stone along the pavement until it disappeared.

The house was quiet when she returned.

Dinner was normal. Conversation light. Nothing important said.

Later, she lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Felix’s expression replayed in her mind – not confused, not uncomfortable.

Just blank.

He must have forgotten, she decided.

People forgot things all the time.

She turned onto her side and pulled the blanket closer, letting the thought settle where it could stop bothering her.

Tomorrow would feel more normal.

She was sure of it.
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Chapter ended