LOGINThe school bell always sounded like a reminder that the day was only just beginning, even though for me it already felt like a small victory: I had made it on time, my hair looked halfway decent, and my advanced math homework was done.
The school had that chaotic energy only teenagers could give a building—backpacks scattered across the floor, lockers slamming open, laughter mixing with the metallic clang of doors closing. Kate was waiting for me by my locker, bursting with her usual energy and wearing that smile that could brighten even the grayest Monday. The moment she saw me, she grabbed my arm and launched into a talk about the concert, as if the entire world revolved around that Saturday. I suspected the next few days would be the same. “You have no idea, Cams. I’ve already planned everything—what I’m going to wear, how we’re getting there, even what we’re eating beforehand. I’m counting the hours!” “There are still days to go! Did you sleep at all, or did you stay up planning?” I asked as I slid my books into my locker. “Sleep is overrated when you’re seeing your favorite band. Besides, can you imagine Christine’s face when she finds out you and I are going?” I laughed. Christine had a talent for knowing everything that happened at school—and, worse, for making it seem unimportant, even though she was dying of envy. As if summoned by our words, she appeared right then, surrounded by her friends like a perfectly coordinated swarm of bees. She walked down the hallway as if the entire school were her runway, hair perfectly straight, nails freshly painted, and a smile that felt less friendly and more like a weapon. “What’s got you so excited, Kate?” she asked with feigned interest, though her gaze immediately drifted to me. “I was telling Camila about the concert we’re going to on Saturday,” Kate said triumphantly, like she was dropping a bomb. «Maybe it’s not a talent if people tell her everything…» “A concert?” Christine raised an eyebrow. “And what are you going to see? A symphony of mathematical equations?” “That actually sounds fun,” I replied, refusing to let it get to me. I was used to her little stings. Kate, on the other hand, nearly choked laughing. “Wishful thinking, but no. It’s Trollex, Christine. We already have tickets,” she added, savoring every word. Christine’s expression hardened for just a second—long enough to give her away—before her flawless smile returned. “You don’t get extra points for lying, Kate. It’s embarrassing that you’d make something like that up. I don’t believe for a second that your parents would let you go to a concert like that unless…” she paused, smirking, “unless you’re also lying to them and saying you’re sleeping over at this know-it-all’s house.” «Aww. I’ll take that as a compliment.» “I have no reason to lie to you, and definitely not in my own house. I’m not two-faced with my parents.” I’m no expert in body language, but that last comment clearly hit a nerve. “We’ll see if you really go,” she said dismissively, turning on her heels and walking away with her entourage. Kate elbowed me in the ribs. “You saw her face, right? That was epic!” “More like fleeting—but yes, I saw it.” “Do you think she’s dying of envy?” “Because we’re seeing Trollex, or because we’re going to a concert?” I asked out loud, unsure which way to steer my answer—and realizing too late that I’d spoken faster than I’d thought. “Oh my God, Cams. The answer is obvious.” “Yes, she’s going to die of envy,” I said, because you can never go wrong with a yes in situations like these. “I knew it! I knew it…” Kate said, clenching her fists in celebration. That was Kate—those little victories kept her smiling all day. We kept laughing as we walked to physics class, my favorite subject along with math, and for the moment, we set the concert aside. I loved how numbers and formulas could bring order to the world's chaos; sometimes they felt like the only truly predictable things in life. The teacher greeted us with his usual enthusiasm and began the lesson, but halfway through, I felt someone’s eyes on me. I turned discreetly and found Justin—the stereotypical good-looking guy who always seemed to be everywhere. He was the kind of person who came effortlessly likable: captain of the soccer team, easy smile, perfectly messy hair. When our eyes met, he smiled at me knowingly, as if we shared some unspoken secret. I simply returned a brief smile before turning back to my notes. Kate, of course, didn’t let it slide. “Justin Whitaker was looking at you like you’re the new theorem he wants to solve,” she whispered in the middle of class, unable to wait even a few minutes for the bell to ring. “Or like he’s bored in physics and I caught him staring into space,” I shot back, copying what was written on the board. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re really that oblivious or if you do it on purpose.” “What are you talking about?” “Oh, Cams, you’re always so logical—and then you walk around collecting sighs.” “I think you’re exaggerating, as usual. Maybe he’s thinking about asking me for the homework.” “Or maybe he’s thinking about asking you for private lessons…” I looked at Kate with wide eyes, which made her laugh harder than I expected, drawing attention. “Am I interrupting, Miss Cooper?” Professor Chapman asked. “Sorry, Professor,” Kate said without much conviction. She pretended to return to her notes, and when the teacher turned back around, she leaned toward me and whispered, “Admit it—that idea didn’t bother you at all.” “You know that’s dangerous territory,” I murmured back without lifting my eyes. “And what about that famous line, ‘I laugh in the face of danger’?” I smiled at her comment but didn’t answer. “Miss Cooper,” the teacher warned again, and Kate mimed zipping her mouth shut. She adjusted in her seat and kept taking notes as if nothing had happened. Still, Kate was right about one thing: it didn’t bother me to be noticed by him. And yet, deep down, there was something that did make me uncomfortable… and it had nothing to do with Justin, but with someone else. *** We were heading to the cafeteria when someone called out from behind me. “Campbell.” Kate lifted her notebook to her face, trying to hide her grin. “Hi, Justin,” I replied politely, doing my best not to feel embarrassed by Kate’s behavior. I was starting to get nervous. “I hear you’re going to the concert this Saturday,” Justin said. Only one class had passed, and he already knew. «Do things really spread that fast? Has it always been like this?» “Yes, it’s Kate’s favorite band,” I replied, gesturing toward her. Justin turned to look at her and nodded in approval. Then his gaze returned to me. “I’m going with a few guys from the team. If you want me to pick you up, let me know—we can go together.” I opened my mouth to answer, but Kate beat me to it. “Text her, and we’ll figure it out,” she said, handing him my phone number. “Great. See you, Campbell. Kate,” Justin said before walking off down the hall. I watched his back disappear before I could say a single word. As soon as he crossed the threshold, I turned to Kate with a murderous look. “Kate, you’re forgetting one small—but very important—detail: Jacob,” I scolded her for making plans. “Contrary to what you think, that small, VERY important detail is very much on my mind,” Kate replied. “And I’m also very aware that now Justin has your number and can text you. You don’t have to go with him on Saturday, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go out with him some other Saturday. A girl has to be forward-thinking, Campbell,” she added, mimicking the tone Justin had used to say goodbye. I took a deep breath and decided not to encourage her any further. “Come on, I’m hungry,” was all I said. As we walked toward the cafeteria, I met Christine’s gaze. Correction: the look I gave Kate when she handed Justin my number was sweet compared to the one Christine was giving me now. If she could have taken me out with her eyes, I’d already be gone. «Dangerous territory.»Over the past three weeks, life had taken on a different color.Not everything was perfect. There were still the occasional awkward moments with Dad, the curious looks at school, and Kate’s relentless teasing. But Jacob and I had learned how to exist inside a space that felt entirely our own, something quiet and invisible to everyone else, as though we had somehow discovered a frequency that only the two of us could hear.Sometimes it was nothing more than a quick coffee after class, where he insisted on trying desserts that never seemed to fit his image of a serious, responsible adult and somehow always made me laugh. Other times, it was a walk with no destination, Jacob with his hands tucked into his pockets, while I deliberately stretched every conversation for as long as possible, even the simplest ones, just to hear his voice a little longer.There were dates at tiny museums almost nobody visited, where I ofte
Things with Jacob felt different now.The uncertainty was gone. So were the long silences weighed down by everything we couldn’t say. In their place had appeared knowing smiles, lingering glances that seemed capable of carrying entire conversations, and those casual brushes of hands that still sent a shiver racing through me as though it were the first time.It was strange and wonderful at the same time. We had known each other for years, and yet everything felt new, as though we had only just been introduced.We didn’t spend much time talking about what being together actually meant. We didn’t need to. It was there in the way he looked at me when he thought nobody else was paying attention, or in the way he opened the car door for me with that calm, confident half-smile that somehow dismantled every coherent thought I had.We were living inside a small, quiet bubble, a shared secre
If someone had asked me to calculate the probability of Jacob and me ending up together, I probably would have needed a larger sheet of paper.Not because it was impossible, but because it had spent so long in the process of happening without actually happening that my brain had stopped treating it as a real possibility. And now that it had finally happened, I discovered something I hadn’t expected.The difficult part had never been falling in love with Jacob.The difficult part was getting used to the idea that Jacob was in love with me, too.I woke up half convinced that I ha
By late afternoon, the house had grown quiet again.One by one, everyone said their goodbyes, leaving behind warm wishes for this new trip around the sun and for the stage of life I was supposedly entering—a stage where I was no longer considered a teenager and was expected to begin my journey into adulthood. The truth was, I had no idea when that transition actually happened. I wasn’t sure anyone did. Maybe discovering it was simply part of growing up.Before leaving, Kate wrapped me in one of her trademark bone-crushing hugs and handed me her gift: a spa day for the two of us.We laughed and exchanged promises about scheduling our girls’ day soon, speakin
The brief pause Dad took after saying, “I do have my doubts,” couldn’t have lasted more than two or three seconds.In real time, though, it felt endless.It was strange how something so small could expand inside your mind that way. A few seconds are all it takes for anxiety to slip beneath your skin, for your heart to brace itself for a blow before it even knows what’s coming. In moments like that, the only thing you can do is organize your thoughts as quickly as possible and remind yourself that, whatever happens, you can’t let the disappointment show on your face.“But I also don’t want to be the reason you give up your happiness.&
The landing was so gentle that I barely felt it.The basket brushed against the grass before settling into the meadow with an almost unreal softness, as though the air itself was reluctant to let us go. When the balloon finally came to rest among the open fields, a knot tightened in my throat. I didn’t want that suspended moment to end. I wasn’t ready to come all the way back down to earth.Jacob helped me climb out of the basket, and when his hands brushed mine, the world seemed to pause for a heartbeat. Neither of us said anything. We didn’t need to. The silence between us still carried something new and fragile, as though we were both afraid that the wrong word might break it.The sky above us was impossibly clear, a shade of blue so pure it almost hurt to look at. For a moment, I found myself thinking that it belonged to the same secret language as Jacob’s eyes.Neither of
On Monday, after returning from the lake, the school routine felt almost absurd. The hallways were just as loud; teachers repeated their formulas and assignments, and yet I felt like I was on another plane altogether—as if I were carrying a secret written on my skin that no one else could see. At
Breakfast on the terrace was a feast. The long wooden table was covered with overflowing plates: pancakes, fresh fruit, crispy bacon, orange juice, and coffee that smelled like heaven. Kevin and his friends looked like a pack fresh out of hibernation, fighting over pieces of bacon
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I murmured, taking in the trees, the sky, the birds. “Yes, it is,” he answered—but Jacob wasn’t looking at the forest. He was looking at me. I smiled at his response. I closed my eyes and lifted my face to the rising sun,
The forecast said the sun would rise at seven, so I set my alarm for five. I wasn’t going to miss the sunrise for anything. I’d throw my hair up into a quick, high bun—the shower could wait until I got back. I carried my usual backpack with me: my DSLR camera with its 50 mm lens,







