I Wasn’t Looking for Him

📖 Sonder

Diary entry – June 15

By: Elara

---

I don’t know what’s worse —

That I saw him again today…

Or that a part of me wanted to.

It started early — around 9am, which, for summer break, is basically hella early.

I hadn’t even brushed my hair yet. I was just sitting on my bed, staring at nothing, replaying last night like some movie I wasn’t ready to pause.

His smile.

His voice.

That "you look different" line that keeps echoing in my brain like a broken record with a soft beat.

And then the sound came — boxes being dragged across concrete, the kind of laughter only siblings have, and his voice. Deeper than I remember. Still gentle. Still... him.

I got up.

Not because I care.

Just curiosity. Observation. Research. Whatever makes it sound less obvious.

I peeked through the window. Slowly. Casually. Like I wasn’t acting like a full-blown stalker.

And there he was.

In a faded black t-shirt, messy hair pushed back with one hand, holding a tiny pot of lavender like it wasn’t the softest thing a boy has ever done.

My stomach flipped.

I’m blaming it on the cereal I didn’t eat.

I shut the curtain like I touched something hot.

Told myself: No. No, Elara. Stop. This is nothing.

---

A few hours later, my mom casually waltzes into my room with that look on her face — the “I need a favor and you’re my only victim” expression.

> “We’re giving kimchi to the neighbors. You’ll take it over.”

I blinked at her like she just asked me to walk barefoot through fire.

> “Why me?”

“Because you need fresh air. And because it’s polite.”

“You go then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s your age.”

I froze.

> “He?”

My mom smirked. Smirked.

Like she knew what my brain just did.

> “Yes, the boy. Calem? You remember him.”

Oh, I remember.

Trust me, I remember.

She handed me the container and practically shoved me out the door.

I almost turned around three times, but my pride walked me to the porch like it had something to prove.

I rang the bell.

Instant regret.

The door opened — too fast, like he’d been standing there.

And there he was.

In soft lighting. Hair damp. Probably just showered.

And smiling.

> “Hey,” he said, voice like velvet.

“You came back to see me?”

Dead.

I froze, trying to think of something that didn’t sound like "your voice is making me lose basic vocabulary."

> “No,” I mumbled, holding out the container like it was a cursed object. “Kimchi. From my mom.”

He took it, our fingers brushing.

I pulled my hand back too fast, like an idiot. He didn’t flinch though.

He just smiled deeper. Like it meant something.

> “Thanks. You still don’t like talking, huh?”

I blinked.

> “You remember that?” I asked, voice way too soft.

He shrugged.

> “You were always quiet. But never invisible.”

Butterflies. Full riot.

I wanted to say something clever.

Something cool.

Instead, I panicked.

> “Okay bye.”

I turned around and nearly tripped over the step.

I didn’t look back.

I felt him watching me though — the way someone does when they’re trying to memorize you.

Or maybe I imagined it.

Maybe.

---

Now I’m in bed, overthinking again.

His voice is still playing in my head like background music.

“You were always quiet. But never invisible.”

Who says that? Why would he say that?

What does it even mean?

I don’t like him.

I just… hate how he makes silence feel like something beautiful.

I hate that I noticed the way his shirt clung to his arms.

I hate that he remembered me.

I’m not crushing.

I’m not.

I’m just... confused.

Right?

— Elara

(currently wrapped in a blanket and a whole lot of denial)

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***