Chapter 2: The Secret and the Missing Page

Monday morning hit Ethan like a truck. He walked through Lincoln High’s crowded hallways with Naya’s black notebook tucked deep in his backpack, the stack of sign-up forms still crinkling in the main pocket from Friday. He’d spent the weekend replaying what he’d read on Saturday afternoon — including that torn page he’d held in his hands, turning it over, staring at the sketch of Jake on the front and reading those intimate words on the back before tucking it back between the pages where he’d found it.

He planned to give the forms to Jake during their shared last-period English class — the only time they were in the same room — and return the notebook to Naya before or after. Simple. Low-drama.

But plans never stayed simple.

Ethan was heading down the main corridor toward his first class when he spotted Jake ahead of him, walking alone, earbuds in, backpack slung over one shoulder. Jake paused at the water fountain, took a quick drink, then straightened up.

Ethan hesitated for half a second, then sped up.

“Hey, Jake.”

Jake turned, pulling one earbud out. “Oh, hey Ethan. What’s up?”

Ethan swung his backpack around and unzipped the main pocket. “Coach Ramirez caught me Friday after the bell. Gave me these for you.” He pulled out the small stack of sign-up forms — 3–4 sheets clipped loosely together — and held them out. “Spring tournament stuff. He said you were supposed to fill one out last week. Use whichever, sign it, and get it back to him by Tuesday morning or you’re doing extra laps till graduation. The extras are for anyone else who forgot.”

Jake took the papers, glancing at the top one. “Ah, crap. Yeah, I meant to do that. Thanks for grabbing them. I’ll fill it out tonight and drop it off tomorrow.”

“No problem,” Ethan said, zipping his backpack back up. He felt lighter now that the forms were gone. “See you in English later.”

“Yeah. Later.”

Jake gave a small nod and continued down the hall. Ethan watched him go for a second — calm walk, quiet posture — then shook his head and kept moving toward his next class.

Just before he reached the door, he spotted Naya at her locker, swapping out books with a worried look on her face, earbuds dangling loose.

Ethan veered over before he could second-guess himself.

“Hey, Naya.”

She looked up fast. “Ethan. Hi.”

He pulled the black notebook out and held it toward her. “You left this Friday in English. I picked it up so it wouldn’t get lost.”

Naya’s face lit up with pure relief. She took it with both hands, fingers brushing his briefly. “Thank you. Seriously. I was so scared it was gone for good.”

“Yeah, glad I could help.”

She hugged the notebook to her chest, then glanced around the bustling hallway. She closed her locker quickly. “Can we talk? Just really quick? Somewhere private?”

Ethan swallowed. His heart picked up speed — this was it, a moment alone with her. Maybe he could finally say what he’d been holding in. “Yeah, okay.”

She led him down a side hall to the small alcove by the stairwell — that dead-end spot with no foot traffic, just the low buzz of the vents and fluorescent lights. Naya turned to him, still clutching the notebook like a lifeline.

“Did you read it?” she asked softly.

Ethan’s throat tightened. He tried the lie first. “I… barely looked. Just opened it to check whose it was.”

Naya’s cheeks flushed deep red. She looked down, then back up, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lying. I can see it on your face.”

Ethan sighed, shoulders dropping. “Okay… yeah. I read it. More than I should have. I’m sorry. I started and couldn’t stop. Your writing is really good.”

Naya’s eyes welled up suddenly, her voice breaking as she clutched the notebook tighter. “Oh god… I’m so embarrassed. No one was ever supposed to see any of that. Ever. Especially not someone from school. Especially not… you. It’s my private thing, my escape, and now it’s ruined. Please, Ethan, I’m begging you — don’t tell anyone. Not a word. If this gets out, if people know what I write about, what I imagine… I couldn’t face anyone. I’d have to switch schools or something. Please, just keep it secret? Promise me?”

Her words hit him hard — the desperation in her voice, the way her eyes pleaded, the slight tremble in her hands. Ethan’s chest tightened. This was Naya, the girl he’d been crushing on for months, looking at him like he held her whole world in his hands. He felt a surge of protectiveness, a need to shield her from anything that could hurt her. He stepped closer, voice steady and serious, pouring all his conviction into it.

“I promise, Naya. With everything I’ve got. I won’t tell a soul. Not Jake, not my friends, nobody. Your secret’s safe with me. I swear.”

She searched his face, then nodded slowly, wiping at her eyes quickly. “Okay… thank you. Really. I believe you.”

Ethan’s heart raced. The alcove felt smaller, the air thicker. This was his chance. The words he’d rehearsed so many times bubbled up: Naya, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while… I like you. A lot. He opened his mouth, ready to say it, to finally get it out while they were alone, while she was looking at him with that mix of vulnerability and gratitude.

But before he could speak, Naya opened the notebook, thumbing through the pages absently at first, then faster. Her brows furrowed.

“Wait… where’s the torn page?”

Ethan blinked, the confession dying on his lips. “What torn page?”

“The loose one. The sketch on the front, the writing on the back. It was tucked between chapters 4 and 5. It’s gone.”

Ethan’s stomach dropped. He remembered holding it Saturday afternoon — turning it over in his hands, staring at the drawing of Jake, reading those lines on the back before sliding it back in. But now… it wasn’t there? He swung his backpack off and started digging — main pocket, side pockets, even shaking it upside down. Nothing. No loose sheet. No torn paper.

“I… I saw it Saturday afternoon when I was reading. I held it, looked at both sides, then put it back in. I swear I didn’t take it out or anything. It must have fallen out somewhere. Bus? My room? I looked everywhere this weekend.”

Naya bit her lip, looking more anxious than before. “If someone finds it… the sketch is of Jake. And the words… it’s obvious what it is. Please, if you find it, just give it back to me. Don’t read it again. Don’t show anyone.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

The warning bell rang — first class in one minute.

“We have to go,” Naya whispered.

They hurried back to their separate first-period rooms. The almost-confession hung in Ethan’s mind, derailed by the missing page. Now, all he could think about was that torn sheet — where it had gone, who might find it.

From first period through fourth, the question consumed him. He checked his locker again. Retraced his morning path. Even peered under desks in his classes. Nothing.

By the time the bell rang ending fourth period, Ethan still had no idea where the torn page was. And the last class of the day — English, where Naya and Jake would both be — was about to start.

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