Grabbing the nearest pole, I pull myself to stand. The train slows as it nears the station. I squeeze my way toward the doors, steadying myself as I walk, while noticing he looks perfectly balanced without needing to hold on. When I get to the exit, I grab my hat from my bag and adjust it in the reflection of the train doors. I smooth the hair along the sides and twist the rest so it falls like a ponytail down my neck and into the sweatshirt. My hair is too white, too recognizable. I don’t need that kind of attention.

The train shudders, jerking me sideways. I grab the pole again to steady myself.

He stands behind me, his reflection in the darkened glass towering over mine. His T-shirt isn’t exactly tight, though it hugs the muscles in his arms and chest. I keep my eyes hidden beneath the lid of my hat. I can’t stand the thought of him seeing me look at him. Even in the reflection, his eyes are unmistakably bright.

I shift my gaze to an advertisement above the train doors. It’s a panoramic view of Chicago at sunset showcasing six of the eighteen million-dollar mansions lining the lakefront. I can just make out the mayor’s house. It’s farther from Navy Pier than I thought.

The train doors open, and I step onto the platform. He tosses the backpack and baseball cap into a trash can as he walks by it and waits for me to go ahead.

I fall in line with the crowd heading down the stairs to the street and the Red Line—one of the actual subways in the city. It’s late, but plenty of commuters are still heading home from the business district, making the station thick with passengers. The place rattles with trains coming and going. A chorus of chimes and automated voices on the overhead intercoms blur together into loud, indistinguishable background noise.

He stays a few feet behind. I don’t see him, but I sense him lurking like a shadow. He’s so inconspicuous, I can’t help but wonder if he’s followed me before. Then I remember earlier today, at school. I saw him. He’d been following me then. My stomach knots.

I saw him at my school and dismissed it as my imagination. It’s mistakes like those that could get me killed, and yet I can’t stop making them.