Friday felt off.
Not in a big way.
Just small things.
The kind you notice but can't really explain.
Aylin got to class at 7:52.
Kerem wasn't there.
That wasn't unusual.
But for some reason, she still glanced at the door a few times while setting up her desk.
Notebook under textbook.
Pencil case in the middle.
Water bottle on the right.
Everything normal.
Still—
She checked the door again.
He walked in at 8:07.
Later than usual.
"Sorry," he said, same as always.
But quieter.
Aylin noticed that too.
He sat down beside her without looking at her, dropping his bag a little harder than necessary.
She hesitated.
"…You're really late today."
"Yeah," he said.
Nothing else.
The lesson started.
Kerem didn't take out a pen.
Didn't look at the board.
Just leaned back in his chair, staring at nothing.
Aylin tried to focus.
She really did.
But it was harder than usual.
After a few minutes, she slid her notebook slightly toward him.
Not her story notebook.
The other one.
The safe one.
"You're going to fall behind," she said quietly.
He glanced at it.
Then at her.
"…I'll copy later."
"You said that last time."
"I did copy last time."
"Not all of it."
Kerem looked at the page again.
Then, slowly, he pulled out a pen.
"Fine."
Aylin nodded once and looked back at the board.
He wrote for about five minutes.
Then stopped.
Then started again.
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
Second period was worse.
He didn't even try this time.
Head down on the desk, not sleeping—just… there.
Aylin stared at her paper.
Then at him.
Then back at her paper.
"…Kerem."
No response.
She hesitated.
"…Kerem," she said again, a little louder.
He lifted his head slightly.
"What."
"You should at least sit up."
"Why."
"So the teacher doesn't notice."
"She already noticed."
Aylin glanced toward the front.
The teacher was writing something, not paying attention.
"…Still."
Kerem let out a quiet breath, then sat up slowly.
"Better?"
"Yes."
"…You sound like a teacher."
Aylin frowned slightly. "I don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
He almost smiled.
Just a little.
Lunch was quieter.
Kerem didn't sit with his usual group.
Aylin noticed that too.
She told herself she was just observant.
That was all.
Nothing more.
Last period.
Same slow feeling as always.
Same tired classroom.
Aylin finished early again.
This time, she didn't take out her earphones.
She just sat there, pen in hand, staring at her notes.
Thinking.
She wasn't planning to do anything.
She really wasn't.
But somehow—
Her hand moved.
She reached into her bag.
Paused.
Then pulled out her notebook.
The wrong one.
Aylin stared at it for a second.
Her heart was already beating a little faster.
She shouldn't.
She knew that.
But—
Just for a second.
She opened it.
Not all the way.
Just enough to see the page she had written last night.
Her handwriting looked messier than usual.
Like she hadn't been thinking too carefully while writing.
"…That again?"
Aylin flinched slightly.
She closed it halfway, turning her head.
Kerem was looking at it.
Not leaning in.
Not trying to grab it.
Just… looking.
"It's nothing," she said.
Again.
Same words.
They sounded weaker this time.
Kerem tilted his head slightly.
"You always say that."
"Because it is."
"It's not."
Aylin didn't respond.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the notebook.
There was a pause.
Longer than usual.
"…You write about people?" he asked.
Aylin blinked.
"…Sometimes."
"People you know?"
She hesitated.
"…Not exactly."
Kerem nodded slowly, like he understood something she hadn't fully explained.
"Can I read it?"
The question landed heavier than she expected.
Aylin's grip on the notebook tightened.
"No."
Too fast.
Too automatic.
Kerem didn't look surprised.
"Okay," he said.
Just like that.
No teasing.
No pushing.
That almost made it worse.
Aylin looked down at the notebook.
Then back at him.
He wasn't even looking anymore.
Just staring at his desk.
Like it didn't matter.
"…It's not finished," she said.
She didn't know why she said that.
Kerem glanced at her.
"I figured."
"It's not good either."
"You said that before."
"Because it's true."
He shrugged slightly.
"Still doesn't mean anything."
Aylin hesitated.
Her fingers loosened just a little.
The notebook was still in her hands.
Still closed.
But not as tightly.
For a second—
She almost handed it to him.
She didn't.
Instead, she pulled it back slightly and closed it fully.
"Maybe later," she said.
Quiet.
Almost like she didn't want the words to be too real.
Kerem looked at her for a second.
Then nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "Later."
The bell rang.
Too loud again.
Too sudden.
Aylin put the notebook back in her bag.
Carefully.
Like always.
But this time—
Her hands weren't as steady.
They packed up in silence.
Not the same silence as before.
This one felt… different.
Heavier.
But not bad.
Just—
Full.
As they stood up, Kerem slung his bag over his shoulder.
"You almost did," he said.
Aylin looked at him.
"…What?"
"Show it."
She didn't answer.
Because he was right.
"…Yeah," she said finally.
"I know."
He smiled a little.
Not teasing.
Just… there.
"See you Monday," he said.
"See you."
Aylin walked home slower than usual.
She wasn't thinking about school.
Or the weather.
Or anything small like that.
Just one thing.
That moment.
The almost.
That night, she opened her notebook again.
Turned to the same page.
Read it.
Then turned to a new one.
She stared at it for a long time.
Longer than usual.
Then wrote:
"She thought she was afraid of being seen.
But maybe she was more afraid of being understood."
Aylin paused.
Then added—
"And somehow, that felt closer now."
She closed the notebook quickly after that.
Like she'd written something she wasn't supposed to.