Chapter Five: The Things He Never Said

(Noah’s Point of View)

Noah had known Adrian Reed since they were eight.

Back then, Adrian had been the quiet kid who always forgot his lunch, and Noah had been the one to split his sandwich in half and call it “teamwork.” That was how it started — a friendship built on small things. Shared snacks. Shared secrets. Shared silence that never felt awkward.

But now… things were different.

Noah leaned against the metal fence by the soccer field, watching from a distance as Adrian and the new boy — Elias — walked side by side, talking like they’d known each other for years.

Adrian was smiling. The soft kind of smile Noah hadn’t seen in months.

It shouldn’t have stung, but it did.

He tried to tell himself it was fine — that Adrian deserved to have other friends, that maybe Elias was just helping him with something. But every time Elias looked at Adrian, there was a spark in his eyes that made Noah’s chest tighten.

He’d seen that look before — once, years ago, when they were thirteen. Adrian had fallen off his bike, scraped his knee, and Noah had stayed with him until dark, pressing tissues against the cut. Adrian had looked up at him then, eyes glassy with pain but full of trust, and Noah had felt something he couldn’t name. Something that had never really gone away.

Now Elias looked at Adrian the same way. And Adrian… looked back.

Noah kicked at the grass. The sound of laughter drifted through the air — Adrian’s laugh — and it felt like the world was moving on without him.

He told himself not to care. But the ache didn’t listen.

When the bell rang for the next class, Noah started walking back toward the building. As he passed the old library, he glanced once more over his shoulder.

Adrian and Elias were still there — sitting close, heads tilted toward each other, sunlight scattered across them like a secret spotlight.

Noah looked away quickly. He didn’t need to see more.

But as he walked, one thought echoed in his mind, soft and heavy:

He’d always thought he’d be the one by Adrian’s side when life got strange.

(Adrian’s Point of View)

The next morning felt heavier than usual.

Maybe it was the clouds, gray and slow-moving. Maybe it was the weird static in his chest that hadn’t gone away since yesterday.

Or maybe it was the way Noah barely looked at him when he walked into class.

Adrian sat beside him like always, but the air felt different — quieter, like there was an invisible wall between them.

“Hey,” Adrian said softly.

“Hey,” Noah replied, eyes on his notebook. His voice wasn’t cold, exactly. Just… distant.

Adrian frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.”

It was the kind of answer that meant don’t ask more. Adrian knew that tone — he’d used it himself a hundred times. Still, it hurt a little.

He opened his own notebook and tried to focus on the equations on the board, but the numbers blurred. His thoughts kept circling back to yesterday — the field, Elias’s calm voice, the way the air had felt alive between them.

And now Noah’s silence.

Adrian’s stomach twisted. His emotions started to tangle, and—

Click.

The classroom clock froze. The second hand hung mid-tick.

Adrian blinked. The world had gone still.

Noah didn’t notice; he was still writing, completely frozen in that same motion. So were the other students. Even the chalk dust in the air had stopped moving.

Adrian’s heart leapt into his throat. “Oh no. Not again.”

“Relax,” came a familiar voice.

Elias appeared in the doorway — not walking in, but already there, like he’d stepped straight out of thin air. His storm-colored eyes caught Adrian’s. “You lost control again.”

Adrian stood up quickly. “I didn’t mean to— it just— Noah wasn’t—”

“Feeling ignored?” Elias guessed gently. “Your powers respond to what you feel. You wanted time to stop. So it did.”

Adrian’s breath caught. “You make it sound like I wanted this on purpose.”

Elias stepped closer, expression soft. “Not on purpose. But maybe… your heart wanted a break.”

Adrian didn’t know what to say to that. His pulse was racing, his palms tingling with leftover energy. “Can you fix it?”

“You can,” Elias said. “You just have to let go of the thing holding you.”

Adrian hesitated. His eyes flicked to Noah — frozen mid-note, expression calm, completely unaware.

He didn’t want to lose him.

But he didn’t want to keep everything stuck, either.

Adrian took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. Let go. Just breathe.

Slowly, the clock ticked forward again. Voices filled the room. The world snapped back into motion.

No one noticed anything — except Noah, who glanced up and frowned. “You okay, man? You look pale.”