The more you avoid the truth, the closer it gets to catching you, don’t chase it if you’re not ready—but don’t run from it either

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the barn. The tension that had been thick in the air was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. Every creak of the wooden floor, every rustle of the wind, made me jump, my nerves still on edge from the night before.

I was trying to shake off the lingering feeling, but it wouldn’t go away. It clung to me like the smell of smoke. Kennedy’s presence was still heavy in my mind, the way his touch had burned into my skin. His words, soft but commanding, echoed in my thoughts like a whisper.

“Get a grip, Alisha,” I muttered to myself as I stood by the window, staring out at the horizon. The world outside was nothing but a blur of gray and brown. The apocalypse had stripped everything down to its bare bones.

The others were talking quietly, but the conversation didn’t matter much to me. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling that something was wrong. Something deeper than just the situation. Something personal. I couldn’t explain it.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Alisha?” Sophie’s voice called softly from the other side. “You in there?”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to sound normal. “Yeah. I’m here.”

The door creaked open, and Sophie stepped inside, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

“You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I was convincing either of us. “I’m fine.”

Sophie didn’t seem convinced. “You sure? You’ve been off all day.”

I didn’t know how to explain it. How could I? The fear I felt the night before, the way Kennedy had loomed over me, his hand still burning on my skin… it wasn’t something I could just talk about. Not without giving away too much. I wasn’t sure I even understood it myself.

“Just tired, I guess,” I finally said, forcing a smile. “A little restless.”

Sophie studied me for a moment longer, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through me. But then, she sighed and sat down beside me.

“You know, Alisha…” Sophie hummed softly.

I looked at her as if responding to her.

“We both are women, you are just starting to grow out of your teens. I want you to trust me” She went silent for a moment. “We all need to trust each other, otherwise we will not make it till the end if we don’t talk it out, you know?”

She was right. But I don’t want her to think of me as a weirdo if I tell her about the previous night. About Kennedy. She might think that I was dreaming, but I really wasn’t.

“It’s just…the day I saw my mom…infected, I can’t seem to get her out of my head. I haven’t seen her ever since being kidnapped.”

Sophie’s expression softened at my words. “Oh, sweetheart…” she murmured, her hand reaching for mine.

I flinched. Just barely. But she noticed.

Her fingers hesitated before she slowly pulled back. “I can’t even begin to imagine how that feels,” she admitted, voice gentle. “But I do know one thing—you can’t keep it all inside. It’ll eat you up.”

I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze down to my lap. “I don’t know how to talk about it.”

She let out a quiet sigh. “Then don’t. Not until you’re ready. But just… don’t shut us out, okay?”

I nodded, even if I wasn’t sure I meant it.

Sophie gave me one last searching look before standing. “Come eat something when you’re up for it,” she said. “Andy’s been messing with the radio again, thinking he’ll catch a signal from God knows where.” She chuckled lightly. “Maybe one day, he will.”

I tried to smile at that, but my lips barely moved.

When she left, the silence stretched again, pressing against my ears.

I exhaled shakily, rubbing my arms. My mom. That was the excuse I had given. But the truth—the real truth—was something else entirely.

Kennedy.

I didn’t understand him. I didn’t understand what he wanted, what his intentions were, or why he had been so close last night. Every interaction with him felt like playing with fire, but for some reason, I couldn’t pull away.

I touched my collarbone, the ghost of his fingers still there.

I went to the kitchen to find Kennedy sitting at the table eating.

“What’s for today’s food?” I questioned, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Chicken curry and rice.” He responded.

“Chicken curry? I didn’t know Sophie could make Indian food!”

He munched on his food while being locked onto the book. “Well she did just say that her best friend is Indian and she used to always make it to her whenever they visited each other.”

“oh.”

I sat down next to him since Andy and Sophie are gonna sit next to each other anyway. I took my first bite and god— it’s so good!

“Where are they?”

“They ate already.” Short answer? Dehydrated bastard.

Silence. Munching. Sound of spoons scooping up the food from the bowls.

Thump. Kennedy closed his book and looked at me. Those sharp hunter eyes, ready to devour you.

“You’re acting differently, shortie.” He blurted out.

“What do you mean?”

“You avoid my eye contact and you’re not as mouthy towards me as usual.” He smirked.

I forced myself to chew slowly, but my throat had gone dry. He was watching me too closely, like a predator studying its prey.

“That’s ridiculous,” I muttered, keeping my eyes locked on my bowl. “I’m acting the same.”

Kennedy huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah?” He leaned in slightly, elbow resting on the table, voice dropping just enough to send a chill down my spine. “Then look at me.”

I hesitated. My fingers clenched around my spoon.

Silence.

He tapped his fingers against the wood, patient, expectant.

“Go on,” he urged, his tone teasing but edged with something darker. “You’ve never had trouble glaring at me before.”

I forced myself to lift my gaze, meeting his eyes for the first time since last night. Bad idea.

His stare was heavy, unwavering—those sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to see straight through me. The air in the room felt thinner. My heart pounded against my ribs, but I refused to look away first.

Slowly, he drew a large, long arc across his face. “There she is,” he murmured.

I swallowed hard. “You’re annoying.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe. But you’re still weird today.” His smirk faded just a little, curiosity flickering in his expression. “Something happen?”

I shook my head too quickly. “No.”

His gaze lingered, scanning my face like he was piecing something together. Then, suddenly, he reached out—so fast I barely had time to react. His fingers brushed my collarbone.

I jerked away instantly, heart lurching into my throat.

Kennedy tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “Huh.”

That’s all he said. Just huh, like he had just confirmed something.

My hands curled into fists under the table. “Don’t touch me.”

“Relax.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Just checking something.”

“Checking what?”

Kennedy didn’t answer right away. He just studied me again, the smirk returning, but this time… it was almost knowing.

“You’ll figure it out,” he finally said, pushing his chair back. He grabbed his empty bowl and stood, his movements calm, controlled. Before walking off, he paused just long enough to throw one last remark over his shoulder.

“Try not to think about me too much, shortie.”

And with that, he was gone.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Too late.

That’s all I could think about.