Chapter 187: Birthday, Part Three

The independent study period in senior advisory three was anything but quiet.

Students talked in low voices, traded snacks across desks, checked their phones whenever they thought no teacher was watching, and occasionally glanced toward the same person near the front of the room.

Audra Sloane sat at her desk with her usual composed expression.

It was her birthday, but nothing about her demeanor suggested she expected special treatment because of it. Even with people looking over from time to time, she remained calm enough to resemble a flower growing somewhere too high and cold for anyone else to reach.

No one looking at her could have guessed what she was thinking.

Audra knew perfectly well that rejecting birthday gifts was not particularly polite.

She simply saw no reason to accept them.

Birthdays were not even necessary for this kind of thing. Throughout the school year, boys she barely knew found all sorts of excuses to approach her with presents.

Some made a spectacle out of it.

Others tried to catch her alone and act as though the gift meant nothing.

Either way, the intention was usually obvious.

They seemed to treat giving her something like buying a lottery ticket. As long as Audra was not openly dating anyone, every boy could tell himself he still had the same tiny chance of becoming the person she chose.

Some of them had never held a real conversation with her.

Others knew almost nothing about her beyond the fact that they attended the same school.

That never seemed to stop them from imagining that one lucky attempt might somehow change everything.

Audra had rejected enough gifts that anyone paying attention should have understood.

People still kept trying.

In the past, she might have treated that persistence as nothing more than another reminder that she was considered desirable.

Rejecting them was not cruelty in her mind.

If anything, it saved them from misunderstanding a situation that was never going anywhere.

Today, however, Audra cared about a completely different person.

She wanted to know whether Cyrus knew it was her birthday.

More importantly, she wanted to know whether it mattered to him.

That question had been sitting quietly in the back of her mind all morning.

Because of it, every other birthday gift felt even less important than usual.

Audra turned slightly and looked toward the back corner of the classroom.

The seat that normally held a familiar figure was empty.

She paused.

When had Cyrus left?

Outside St. Alder, the weekday streets were not especially crowded, but enough people were out that two boys walking around in school uniforms still drew occasional looks.

Most of those looks landed on Cyrus.

Owen Keats walked beside him without seeming bothered.

They crossed another street and reached a busier stretch lined with shops.

Gift options immediately multiplied.

There were florists, clothing stores, bakeries, dessert shops, bookstores, accessory displays, and several places Cyrus could not identify from the windows alone.

Compared with trying to find something inside school, this was much easier.

At least now he had choices.

Owen glanced at him several times as they walked.

Cyrus noticed after the third or fourth time.

“What is it?”

Owen hesitated.

“That gift you mentioned earlier. Is it for Audra?”

“Yes, it is.”

Cyrus did not bother hiding it.

By now, plenty of people knew that he and Audra spent lunch together upstairs. Students occasionally passed the fourth-floor classroom just to see what the two of them were doing.

Those people were usually disappointed.

Cyrus and Audra really did study.

Whatever romantic scene curious classmates imagined never happened.

Owen studied Cyrus’s expression.

“So you and Audra are…”

Cyrus looked at him.

“Are what?”

Owen stopped himself.

“It’s nothing.”

Cyrus waited, but Owen had already changed direction. ℴℴ𝘮

“What are you planning to get her?”

“Probably something small.”

Owen smiled.

“I think she’ll be pretty happy if the gift comes from you.”

“Do you?”

Cyrus sounded genuinely unsure.

His voice carried so little visible emotion that Owen could not tell whether Cyrus cared about the answer.

Then again, that was normal for him.

Cyrus often sounded distant even when he was being thoughtful.

If Owen had not known him for a while, he might have assumed Cyrus simply disliked people.

Whenever his expression softened, the distance around him became much less severe.

Unfortunately, those moments were rare.

Cyrus had no idea what Owen was thinking.

He was still considering the gift.

Flowers looked nice, but they could only sit somewhere and eventually die.

Desserts were more useful because Audra could actually eat them.

Something practical might be even better.

Between those choices, Cyrus preferred the last two.

He was still debating when a sudden commotion broke out farther ahead.

An older man was riding a three-wheeled cargo bike loaded with fruit.

A small electric scooter cut across his path without warning.

The two barely avoided crashing.

The old man managed to keep the bike upright, but the sharp movement sent a large portion of the fruit spilling across the street.

The scooter never stopped.

It disappeared down the road while the old man climbed off and started collecting what had fallen.

People nearby looked over.

Most kept walking.

Cyrus and Owen exchanged a glance.

Neither said anything.

They stepped forward at almost the same time.

The old man looked surprised when the two students crouched down to help him.

“Thank you. Thank you both so much.”

Owen picked up several pieces of fruit.

“You don’t have to thank us. We’re already here.”

Cyrus gave a small nod, silently agreeing.

Once the first two people started helping, several bystanders seemed to reconsider their own decision to keep walking.

A woman stopped and picked up a few oranges.

Then another person joined.

With several hands working at once, the scattered fruit was soon returned to the cargo bed.

Cyrus carried the final handful over.

The old man caught his hand before he could step away.

“Thank you, young man. Really, thank you.”

The gratitude in his face was completely sincere.

Cyrus became slightly uncomfortable.

He looked away.

The old man did not seem to notice.

Cyrus still had not gotten used to this kind of direct appreciation.

After repeatedly insisting that they take something, the old man eventually convinced Cyrus and Owen to accept one tangerine each.

Anything more would have felt excessive.

They watched him slowly ride away.

Owen peeled his fruit and laughed.

“I think somebody was filming you.”

Cyrus glanced toward where a few people had been standing.

“Let them.”

He had already been photographed by enough customers at The Full Moon Lounge that one more stranger with a phone hardly mattered.

The interruption had been brief.

Cyrus looked at the tangerine in his hand.

He realized this was probably only the third time he had deliberately stepped in to help strangers since coming to Grayhaven.

The first had involved Faye’s younger siblings.

Now there was the old man with the fruit.

If Isolde ever appeared in public and tried throwing a bag over Cyrus’s head, he wondered whether any of these helpful citizens would step forward for him.

Judging from how many people had initially stood around watching the fruit roll across the road, Cyrus was not especially confident.

He kept that criticism to himself.

At the next intersection, Owen pointed down another street.

“There’s a beef noodle place over there that’s really good. Want to eat before we head back?”

“I brought lunch.”

Owen nodded in understanding.

“Right. Your lunches always look better than cafeteria food anyway.”

He gave Cyrus a small wave.

“I’ll grab something here. I’ll see you back at school.”

“See you there.”

Owen headed off without trying to convince him further.

Cyrus continued alone.

He finished the tangerine while wandering between shops.

Ten minutes passed.

Then another several minutes.

He still had not found anything that felt right.

Most choices seemed either too casual or too personal.

Cyrus wanted the gift to say that he remembered Audra’s birthday and appreciated her friendship.

He did not want it to look like a confession.

Then he passed another storefront.

Something displayed behind the glass caught his attention.

Cyrus stopped.

He looked at it for several seconds before entering.

About half an hour later, he stepped back onto the street carrying a small, carefully packaged box.

A trace of exhaustion showed in his eyes.

Choosing the gift itself had probably taken five minutes.

The employee inside had somehow managed to turn those five minutes into more than half an hour by enthusiastically explaining nearly every possible option.

Cyrus had learned far more than he wanted to know.

Still, the final choice seemed safe.

Audra probably would not dislike it.

That was enough.

His goal was simple.

He did not need some dramatic reaction.

He only wanted their relationship to remain as comfortable as it was now.

Back at St. Alder, lunchtime seemed to move differently for Audra.

Sometimes lunch disappeared so quickly that it felt as though someone had stolen half the hour.

Today was the opposite.

Every minute dragged.

Audra sat alone in the fourth-floor classroom where she normally studied with Cyrus.

A notebook lay open in front of her.

She had been writing for quite some time.

Barely a quarter of the page was filled.

Her eyes rose again.

The seat across from her remained empty.

Cyrus had disappeared during independent study.

More than half of lunch had already passed, and he still had not returned.

Audra lowered her eyes.

Was she the only one who quietly looked forward to their time together every day?

Of all days, why did he have to disappear today without saying anything?

Where had he gone?

What was he doing?

Why today?

Even if something urgent had come up, sending a message would not have been difficult.

Audra looked at her phone.

Nothing.

Her concern slowly mixed with disappointment.

Their relationship was not especially close yet.

She knew that.

Still, Cyrus vanishing without a word left an emptiness she had not expected to feel this strongly.

Her thoughts began producing explanations she had no evidence for.

Maybe he had forgotten.

Maybe the birthday meant nothing to him.

Maybe she had mistaken ordinary friendliness for something more meaningful.

The longer Cyrus stayed away, the easier those thoughts became to believe.

Audra’s eyes lowered toward her hand.

Her fingers were slender and bare except for the ring she always wore.

Something darker slowly gathered beneath the disappointment.

Then the classroom door suddenly opened.

The sound broke through her thoughts, and the shadow in Audra’s expression froze.