53. Chapter 48 #3
Her fingers clenched the straps of her backpack as she forced herself to take a step forward. You can do this. It’s just another day. Just another day.
But the moment she stepped into the hallway, reality crashed over her like a wave.
Conversations quieted as she passed, and the hushed whispers were impossible to ignore.
Evin lowered her head, keeping her eyes on the floor or anywhere but the faces of those who murmured, hoping to be seen by as few people as possible. But her ears were sharp.
"Did you hear what happened at the event?"
"Yeah, that fight between Bas and Sergej..."
"Was Evin involved?"
The words cut through the air like razor blades, and Evin’s steps quickened. She kept her gaze locked on the classroom door ahead, willing herself to ignore the tide of unease building inside her.
But just before she reached the door, a familiar voice called out.
"Evin!"
Milka.
Evin froze, the lump in her throat growing heavier. She wanted to run, to yank open the door, to pretend none of this was happening—but she knew that wasn’t an option. Slowly, she turned around.
Milka stood there, her hands clasped in front of her chest, guilt and concern written all over her face. "Can we talk?" she asked softly, almost pleadingly.
Evin said nothing for a moment, just breathing through the pressure in her chest, feeling the heat rise in her head. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm—but sha rp as a blade.
"Talk?" She let the word hang in the air. "Here?"
Milka took a hesitant step forward, but Evin lifted a hand, stopping her. Milka parted her lips as if to speak, but Evin’s words sliced through the space between them before she had the chance.
"I trusted you. I thought you were my friend. But I must have been too stupid, too blind to see that you were making choices behind my back—choices that were never yours to make."
"Evin, please… I just wanted to help you," Milka said, her voice breaking, her eyes glistening with tears.
"Some help…" Evin whispered bitterly. "You told Bas everything. You broke my trust, and now I’m standing here in the middle of this mess—again—because you thought you knew better than me."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Milka dropped her gaze, her shoulders curling inward, her voice barely a murmur.
"I just didn’t want you to be alone. You fainted, Evin. You never faint. I couldn't just stand by and watch you destroy yourself."
Evin took a slow breath. She understood Milka. But that didn’t mean she was ready to forgive her. She had been thrown into deep water without warning…
"I was never alone. I had myself. And that was enough."
Just like now.
Without another word, Evin turned, pushed open the classroom door, and slipped inside.
The tension in the room was suffocating. Some students stared, others pretended not to notice. But in the back row, leaned back against his desk as always, sat Bas.
His gaze locked onto hers, and for a moment, time stood still.
Evin could see the storm in his eyes—the guilt, the anger—and something else, something she couldn’t bear to face: worry. So much had changed between them. It was the first time he had ever looked at her like that.
She took her seat, keeping her eyes forward, refusing to look at him again. But she fel t him. She felt his gaze on her as if he had reached out and touched her.
And despite everything, that feeling gave her the smallest flicker of safety.
The teacher walked in, and class began, but Evin couldn’t hear a single word. Her heart pounded, her mind a chaotic whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
Bas was here, so close—yet he had never felt so far away.
__________
Evin was the first to leave the classroom, but she didn’t get far before she heard his footsteps behind her.
“Birdie.”
His rough voice stopped her cold.
Her fingertips dug into the straps of her backpack, her breath caught in her throat. But she didn’t turn around. She could feel him behind her—the hesitation in his stance, the weight of his presence pressing down on her shoulders.
A few seconds of silence stretched between them. The hallway was quiet except for the distant murmur of students. She heard him inhale softly, like he was about to say something. But he didn’t.
Before the tension could snap, another voice cut through.
“Bas.”
Dominic rounded the corner, a stack of books balanced in his arms. His gaze flickered to Evin—a brief nod, barely more than an acknowledgment—before shifting back to Bas.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, tone deliberately casual.
But Evin heard the unspoken questions beneath it.
“We still need to sort out that thing. Remember?”
Bas hesitated. Then: “Yeah… right.”
And just like that, Evin started walking again, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Before she turned the corner, she risked one last glance over her shoulder. Just enough to see Bas walking away, following Dominic down the hall.
She waited for him to look back. To turn to her. Just once.
But he didn’t.
Dominic shot her a fleeting glance, his expression unreadable. It felt like a silent decision—his choice to stay out of it. To let her handle this alone.
Evin swallowed against the tightness in her throat, her grip tightening on her backpack straps. As their footsteps faded, she leaned back against the wall, lowering her head.
The lump in her throat grew heavier. And guilt clawed at her, hot and relentless.
Why don’t I feel relieved? Why does everything feel even heavier?
She pulled out her phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media, desperate for something—anything—to drown out the silence.
Because the hallway was too quiet.
Just her, her thoughts, and the truth she still wasn’t ready to face.
__________
Sebastian
W ithout a word, he followed the path downward, aware of Dominic’s gaze but unwilling to meet it.
“What was that just now?” Dominic finally broke the silence, his voice calm but laced with an edge.
“What do you mean?” Bas shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, his jaw tightening. This was the last conversation he wanted to have—especially with Dominic.
“That was…” Dominic shook his head and came to a stop, forcing Bas to do the same. “Painful to watch.”
Bas shot him a questioning, mildly irritated look.
“I just saved you from another awkward moment. Again. You stare at her, she stares back… and then nothing. Silence.” Dominic’s expression was laced with confusion, and it made Bas pause.
“Don’t worry. I was there. Witnessed the whole thing…” Bas trailed off, the moment flashing through his mind again. “What’s your point, hero?” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for Dominic’s words.
“My point is, that wasn’t you, man.” Dominic lingered for a second, as if to let his words sink in.
His gaze was sharp, but there was also concern, frustration.
“Ever since the fight, you’ve been walking around like someone pulled the ground out from under you.
And then she’s right there, and you do… nothing? ”
He started walking again.
“Why do you care?” Bas muttered, barely concealing his irritation. “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not celebrating that I’m finally staying away from Evin.”
“Bro, how am I supposed to enjoy this?” Dominic countered. “If you weren’t dragging yourself around like a damn corpse, maybe I would. But look at you—you’re a fucking tragedy.”
Bas exhaled through his nose, a smirk tugging at his lips, reluctant but inevitable.
“Alright, then. What was I supposed to do?” His voice was dry.
He wasn’t denying it—this was wrecking him.
With that thought, he squared his shoulders.
“She pushed me away, Dom. She doesn’t want me. What am I supposed to do?”
Dominic let out a quiet scoff, his smirk barely there. “That’s your problem, Bas. You’re a fighter, but when it comes to Evin, you back down. You run instead of staying and fighting.”
“It’s not always about fighting, for fuck’s sake.” Bas threw up his hands, then let them drop. “Sometimes, you just have to leave people alone.”
“Leave her alone?” Dominic stepped closer, his voice lowering, growing firmer. “I’d say you’re just scared.” He tilted his head slightly, watching Bas carefully. “Scared of what happens if she really lets you in. If she shows you how broken she is. And scared that you won’t be able to handle it.”
The words hit Bas like a punch. That’s not true. His gaze flickered away, landing on t he chipped paint of the wall. The way she carried her darkness, the way she hid it so well—it only made her more beautiful to him. Knowing how much weight she bore without showing it made his pulse race.
“This isn’t about fear,” he muttered. “I just don’t want to make things harder for her.”
“That’s bullshit,” Dominic shot back, his voice sharp. “Evin needs someone who stays, even when she pushes them away. Especially when she pushes them away. And you…” He let the words hang before finishing, “You’re the only one who can. But you’re the one walking away.”
Bas let the words settle, but in the background, his father’s voice echoed. “Either you break up with her, or you live with the consequences.” It hadn’t been a threat. Just a cold, matter-of-fact statement that had lodged itself in his chest like a knot.
Bas rubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to shake off both Dominic’s words and his father’s.
“What do you even know about this?” he muttered. “You don’t understand what’s between us.”
“No, I don’t,” Dominic admitted, and there wasn’t a hint of mockery in his voice. “But I know how you act when something actually matters to you. And this?” He gestured vaguely at Bas, at his entire tense posture. “This screams I’m terrified of losing even more.”
Bas remained silent, his stare fixed straight ahead.
The weight of Dominic’s words pressed against his ribs.
He wasn’t wrong. Bas was scared. Scared of hurting her more.
Scared of showing her how much she meant to him, only to be shut out.
Scared that he wasn’t enough. Scared that his father was right.
“Bro, you know what?” Dominic’s tone softened, but his words still carried the weight of absolute truth. “Enough sulking.”
Bas lifted his head, meeting Dominic’s gaze, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between them—an understanding only real friends could share.
“So,” Dominic continued, flashing his signature grin, though it seemed a little forced no w. “What’s the plan? Keep brooding, or actually do something about it?”
Bas let out a quiet snort, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”
“This week, I officially climbed back into the Top 3 Friendship Rankings,” Dominic quipped with a wink, pushing off the railing and strolling ahead. “And to top it off—I'm throwing a party this weekend. Beach house. For old times’ sake.”
“Nice,” Bas answered, smacking Dominic’s outstretched hand in a lazy high five. Surprisingly, Dominic had just managed to say something that actually got through to him. For once, his advice didn’t make Bas want to shut down—but instead, made him think.