Two weeks since everything changed.
And I don’t recognize her anymore.
Aitana used to be fire.
She used to be sharp words and fierce glares and that annoying little smirk she’d give me when she thought she’d won something.
She used to compete with me over everything—who could ride faster, who could fix a bike quicker, who could get the last word in.
I hated it.
I loved it.
I craved it like oxygen.
But now, she’s quiet.
Withdrawn.
Like she’s shrinking into herself, like the world has opened its mouth and swallowed her whole.
I watch her across the clubhouse lot.
She’s standing by her bike, not doing anything.
Just standing.
Staring at nothing.
Her dark curls are pulled back in a messy bun, and her blue eyes are empty.
Hollow.
Like she’s not really here.
I walk toward her, my boots heavy on the asphalt.
I’m trying to think of something to say.
Something that will get a reaction out of her.
Something that will make her fight back.
“Hey, chunk chunk,” I call out, forcing a grin.
“You look like someone stole your favorite wrench.
What’s wrong?
Did the princess lose her crown?” She doesn’t react.
She doesn’t even look at me.
She just keeps staring at nothing, her face blank and pale.
I stop in front of her, my heart pounding in my chest.
This isn’t right.
This isn’t her.
“Come on, Aitana,” I say, my voice softer now.
“Don’t be like this.
You’re never quiet.
You’re always fighting with someone.
Always causing trouble.
What happened to you?” She finally looks at me.
Her eyes are dull, empty, like she’s looking through me instead of at me.
“Nothing happened, Leo,” she says, her voice flat and hollow.
“I’m just tired.
That’s all.” She turns and walks away.
Just like that.
No argument.
No glare.
No fight.
She walks away, and I’m left standing there, feeling like I just lost something I never had.
This is wrong, I think.
This is so wrong.
I watch her disappear into the clubhouse, and I feel something twist in my chest.
Something painful and sharp and unfamiliar.
I want to comfort her.
I want to tell her that everything is going to be okay.
I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her until she remembers how to smile.
But I don’t know how.
I’ve never known how.
I’ve spent years tormenting her, annoying her, pushing her away.
I thought I was making her stronger.
I thought I was preparing her for the world.
But now I realize I was just hurting her.
And I don’t know how to stop.
I walk back to my bike and lean against it.
The sun is beating down on my face, but I don’t feel it.
All I can feel is the weight of her absence, heavy and suffocating.
I try to think of something that might help.
Something that might reach her.
Maybe I should annoy her, I think.
Maybe I should tease her.
That always gets a reaction.
That always makes her fight back.
But I know it won’t work.
Not anymore.
She’s too far gone.
Too lost in whatever she’s feeling.
I’ve been watching her.
I’ve been watching her for weeks now, ever since her new family arrived.
I see the way she looks at Isabella and Elena.
The way her face goes blank when they walk into a room.
The way she shrinks into herself when her father smiles at them.
I see the way she’s losing herself.
The way she’s fading away.
And I hate it.
I hate it so much it makes me want to scream.
I think about my father’s words.
“Take care of her, Leo.
She’s special.
She’s going to be something great.” I’m trying, Dad, I think.
I’m trying so hard.
But I don’t know how.
I don’t know what to do.
I push off from my bike and walk toward the clubhouse.
Maybe I’ll find her inside.
Maybe I’ll try again.
But as I walk, I feel eyes on me.
Someone is watching me.
I turn my head and see Elena, standing by the clubhouse door.
She’s staring at me with those hazel green eyes, her wild curly hair falling around her shoulders like a cloud.
She’s been staring at me a lot lately.
I’ve noticed it.
At first, it was just quick glances.
A few seconds here and there.
I thought nothing of it.
People stare at me all the time.
I’m used to it.
But then the glances got longer.
More frequent.
She started watching me like I was something she wanted to study.
Something she wanted to capture.
I caught her staring at me during dinner last week.
Her eyes were fixed on me, unblinking, like she was trying to see inside my head.
When I looked at her, she jumped.
Her cheeks turned red.
She stammered something about needing to get some water, and then she scurried away like a little rat caught stealing.
It was strange.
Unsettling.
But I didn’t care.
I don’t care about Elena.
I don’t care about anyone except Aitana.
But I feel her eyes on me now.
Watching.
Waiting.
I meet her gaze for a moment, and she smiles.
It’s a sweet smile.
Innocent.
Harmless.
But something about it makes my skin crawl.
“Hello, Leo,” she says, her voice soft and warm.
“How are you today?” I force a nod.
“Fine.” She steps closer, her eyes never leaving mine.
“I was just thinking about you.
I was wondering if maybe you’d like to take a ride with me sometime.
Show me around Granada.
I’m still getting used to everything.” I shake my head.
“I’m busy.” Her smile falters for just a second, but she recovers quickly.
“Maybe another time, then.” She walks past me, and I feel her hand brush against my arm.
It’s light.
Gentle.
Intentional.
I don’t react.
I don’t care.
Because my mind is still on Aitana.
It’s always on Aitana.
I watch Elena walk away, and I think about her.
The way she watches me.
The way she seems to always be there, lurking in the shadows.
But I don’t care.
I don’t care about Elena.
I don’t care about anyone except Aitana.
And I don’t know how to reach her.
I don’t know how to make her smile again.
But I’m going to try.
I’m going to keep trying.
Because losing her, really losing her, would break me in a way I can’t even imagine.
— Elena’s My first day here wasn’t so bad.
The house is beautiful.
The garden is beautiful.
Everything is so clean and big and bright.
It’s like a dream I never knew I was allowed to have.
But the best part?
The most breathtaking part?
Leo.
He’s tall and dark and so handsome it makes my chest ache.
His eyes are this gorgeous amber color, like honey or gold.
And his smile, when he actually shows it, makes me forget how to breathe.
But he doesn’t look at me.
He doesn’t even glance in my direction.
I watch him all the time.
I can’t help it.
Every time he walks into a room, my eyes go straight to him.
I study his face, the way he moves, the way he talks to everyone else.
And every time, I see him looking at Aitana.
He watches her like she’s the only person in the world.
He smiles at her, even when she doesn’t smile back.
He tries to annoy her, tries to get a reaction out of her, even though she’s too lost in her own sadness to notice.
He loves her.
I can see it in his eyes, in the way he looks at her, in the way he always seems to be searching for her.
And I hate it.
I hate it so much.
I know Aitana has everything.
The love, the attention, the childhood friends who would die for her.
I have nothing.
My father was a drunkard.
He left us when I was small.
I still remember the sound of the door slamming, the silence that followed, the way my mother cried for hours.
We struggled.
We scraped by.
My mother worked herself to the bone just to put food on the table.
I wore second-hand clothes and never had the things the other kids had.
I used to dream about having a rich father.
About having a big house and nice things and friends who actually liked me.
Now I have those things.
But I still don’t feel like I deserve them.
My mother says I should be happy.
She says I should be grateful.
She says this is our chance to finally have the life we deserve.
But I look at Aitana, with her blue eyes and her dark curls and her effortless grace, and I feel so small.
So pathetic.
She has everything.
She’s always had everything.
And I have nothing.
I’ve always had nothing.
I watch Leo leave the clubhouse, and I see the way his shoulders slump.
I see the way he looks around, like he’s searching for someone.
He’s searching for her.
He’s always searching for her.
I think about the day we arrived.
The way he looked at me.
The way he looked at everyone.
He didn’t see me.
He looked right through me, like I was invisible.
And I realized then that I was never going to be the one he looked at.
I was never going to be the one he saw.
So I started watching him.
At first, it was just quick glances.
A few seconds here and there.
I told myself it was harmless.
I told myself I was just curious.
But then the glances got longer.
More frequent.
I started watching him like he was a prize I wanted to win.
I know it’s pathetic.
I know it’s desperate.
But I can’t stop.
I think about my mother’s words.
“Don’t back down without a fight, Elena.
You deserve this.
You deserve everything.” And I think about Aitana.
About the way she’s slowly falling apart.
About the way Leo looks at her like she’s the sun.
Maybe one day, I think.
Maybe one day, I won’t be so pathetic.
Maybe one day, I’ll be the one he looks at.
Maybe one day, I’ll be the one who wins.
But for now, I’m just the prey who watches.
Waiting for my chance.