Chapter 13 THE ALMOST MOMENT
Alex
Alex saw Elias in the café on Monday.
Not the usual café. The one across from the science building where Alex sometimes studied with Sana. He was there first, textbook open, when Elias walked in.
Alex’s heart stopped.
Elias looked tired. His hair was messier than usual, like he’d been running his hands through it. He ordered black coffee and found a table near the window. Pulled out a stack of papers. Started grading.
Alex couldn’t look away.
“You’re staring,” Sana said without looking up from her notes.
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.” She followed his gaze. “Is that him? Library Guy?”
Alex’s face burned. He looked down at his textbook. The words blurred together.
“Alex. That’s him, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“Go talk to him.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Because talking to Elias meant being real. Being visible. Being the person who stammered and blushed and couldn’t form sentences instead of the person who wrote beautiful things at 2 AM.
“I’m just not ready,” Alex said.
Sana closed her laptop. “You know this is getting complicated, right? The longer you wait, the weirder it gets.”
“I know.”
“Does he know what you look like?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“So you could walk over right now, introduce yourself, and he’d have no idea you’re the one writing to him.”
Alex’s hands were shaking. He gripped his pen tighter.
“That’s not fair to him,” Sana continued. Her voice was gentle but firm. “You’re getting to know him through letters. He doesn’t get to know you at all.”
“He knows me. The real me. The me I can’t be in person.”
“But that’s not all of you.” Sana touched his hand. “What happens when he finds out? When he realizes you’ve been watching him this whole time and never said anything?”
Alex didn’t have an answer.
Across the café, Elias looked up from his grading. Stretched. His eyes swept across the room.
Landed on Alex.
Alex’s breath stopped.
For three seconds, they made eye contact. Elias’s grey-blue eyes met his. Curious. Uncertain. Like he was trying to place a face.
Then someone dropped a mug. The crash broke the moment. Elias looked away.
Alex grabbed his stuff.
“I have to go.”
“Alex, wait.”
But he was already moving. Out the door into the cold. His heart was hammering so hard it hurt.
He’d looked at Elias. Elias had looked back.
And Elias had no idea.
Alex made it to the library before his legs gave out. He collapsed onto a bench inside the entrance. The warm air smelled like old paper and floor polish.
His phone buzzed.
Sana: You can’t keep running.
Alex: I know
Sana: So what are you going to do?
Alex stared at his phone. He didn’t know. Didn’t know how to be brave in person when paper was so much safer.
A notification popped up. New message in his campus mailbox.
His heart stuttered. Another letter already? It had only been two days since he’d mailed his last one.
The mailroom was on the basement level. Alex took the stairs slowly. Each step feels heavier than the last.
1-8-4-7.
White envelope. Elias’s careful typed words.
Alex found their bench. Sat down with shaking hands. Opened it.
Dear Someone Who Sees Me,
I read your letter in my car in the parking garage. I’ve been sitting here for an hour trying to figure out what to say. So here’s the truth.
You’re wrong about one thing. You said you’re scared that if I put pieces together and know who you are, this ends. But here’s what I know: whoever you are in person can’t be worse than who you are on paper. And who you are on paper makes me feel more seen than anyone has in years.
Alex’s eyes burned. He blinked hard and kept reading.
You said there’s a gap between who you are on paper and in person. I have that gap too. In letters, I’m honest. In person, I’m performing. Pretending I have everything together when really I’m just trying not to fall apart.
So if you’re scared of being disappointing, don’t be. Because I’m scared of the same thing. Scared you’ll meet me and realize I’m not worth the words you’ve been writing. That I’m just some TA who grades papers and reads alone and doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life.
The paper crinkled in Alex’s grip. He smoothed it out and continued.
You asked if it’s selfish to want to keep this anonymous. It’s not. Take your time. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.
But can I tell you something? I want to know you. Not just the you on paper. The you who has a roommate with terrible singing. The you who likes early mornings and old books. The one who tries to be invisible but sees everything.
I want to know what your voice sounds like. What you order at coffee shops. If you bite your nails when you’re nervous. All the small things that make you real.
Alex looked at his hands. His nails were bitten raw.
But only when you’re ready. Only when it doesn’t scare you anymore.
Thank you for your letters. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for making me want to be seen.
E
Alex read it three more times. Each time, the words hit harder.
Elias wanted to know him. Really know him. Voice and coffee orders and nervous habits.
But he’d also said “only when you’re ready.”
Was Alex ready? Could he be?
He pulled out his phone. Started typing a message to Des, then deleted it. Started typing to Sana, deleted that too.
Instead, he opened his notes app and started writing.
E,
I saw you today. In the café by the science building. You were grading papers by the window. You looked up and we made eye contact for maybe three seconds before someone dropped something and the moment broke.
You have no idea it was me. No idea that the person you looked at is the person writing to you.
I almost came over. Almost introduced myself. Almost closed the distance between paper and reality.
But I got scared and left instead.
He stopped typing. Read what he’d written. It was too honest. Too revealing. It told Elias exactly where to find him.
He saved it anyway. Didn’t delete it.
Because maybe, maybe, he was getting closer to ready.
His phone buzzed.
Des: Where are you
Alex: library
Des: Did you get another letter
Alex: Yes
Des: and?
Alex looked at Elias’s words on the page. At the question hiding in every line. When will you be brave enough?
Alex: I think I’m running out of time to hide
Des: good
Des: It’s about time
But it didn’t feel good. It felt terrifying.
Alex folded Elias’s letter and put it in his pocket with all the others. Four letters now. Four pieces of Elias’s heart wrapped in typed words and careful honesty.
Four reasons to be brave.
He stood up from the bench. Walked through the library to the third floor. To the window where Elias always sat.
The spot was empty today. Just an empty chair and afternoon light slanting across dusty books.
Alex sat down in Elias’s seat. Looked out the window at the campus below.
This was where Elias saw the world. This exact view.
From here, you could see the quad. The science building. The café where they’d almost met today.
Alex pulled out his phone. Opened the notes again.
Added one more line.
Maybe next time I won’t run.
His finger hovered over the keyboard.
Then he deleted the word “maybe.”
Next time I won’t run.