*"One day, we met by chance."* It's a line from a song I've listened to countless times, but it feels like it could be my life's headline right now. I'm Joan, just your average tenth grader—except, maybe, I'm not entirely average. Being fourteen and a high school sophomore, I feel like I'm somewhere in between: too old to be a kid, too young to be taken seriously. A mix of Gen Z with a dash of Alpha. I turn fifteen soon, and somehow, it feels like this year matters more than any other before.
Growing up, life was comfortable. My family's well-off, so I've had most things handed to me without having to ask twice. My dad's a hard-working businessman, the kind who's always on the go, and my mom is the "cool mom"—always up to date on trends, always there for a late-night chat or a casual laugh over popcorn. They've given me a lot, but I'm starting to wonder how much of myself I really know, outside of all this. High school, so everyone says, is when you start figuring that out.
To me, high school is both a playground and a battlefield. You meet all kinds of people, and each one brings a piece of themselves into your life, a piece that becomes part of your own story. Some people stand out; others blend in. I've made friends with the book-smart kids, the ones who breeze through exams like they're nothing. I've hung out with the guys who don't care about school, the class clowns, the dreamers, the introverts, and the extroverts. Each one of them is like a new page in this weird, wild chapter of life.
But Henry? He's more than a page. He's probably one of the most solid people I know. He's got this easygoing vibe that makes you feel like you're home, even in the chaos of high school. Smart, patient, humble—Henry's the kind of guy who won't hesitate to listen to you ramble about the latest game or help you out when you're struggling. He's a bit of a football fanatic, a gamer who knows his way around MOBA games, and somehow, he's the one person who's stuck around from my first day here. I think he gets me in a way that others don't.
Through Henry, I met another friend, Jason Max, though everyone just calls him "Mek." He's from class 10F, and he's got that kind of personality that makes everyone want to be around him—funny, warm, always ready with a joke or a quick comeback. Mek's the friend you go to when you need a laugh, the one who could probably be a comedian if he wanted to. Between him and Henry, I felt like I was finding my place, piece by piece.
But during orientation week, I realized I wanted something more. I didn't just want friends; I was looking for a connection that went deeper. Maybe it was the romantic in me, or maybe it was that song lyric stuck in my head, but I felt this pull to find someone special. Someone I could look across the hall at and just know we were meant to be… or at least meant to try.
Then, I saw her. Karen. She was in the next class over, and she had this quiet beauty that was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were bright and deep, a shade I'd never quite seen before, and she wore a mask, as if she was trying to keep herself hidden from the world. I heard she'd recently moved here from another town, so everything was probably new for her too. But there was something about her that felt familiar, like I'd known her in another life.
As weeks passed, my curiosity grew, and eventually, I followed her on Instagram, scrolling through her posts like I was reading a novel. She didn't post much, but when she did, I learned bits and pieces—how she'd always been introverted, even back in her hometown. It made her feel even more mysterious, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I wanted to know her, really know her.
One day, when I was hanging out with Mek, I finally mentioned her. I didn't know how else to describe her, so I called her *"the angel who fell from the sky."* Mek laughed and shook his head, saying, "Good luck, man. She's an introvert; it's going to be tough." His words hit me harder than I expected. It wasn't that I was afraid of a challenge—it was more that I didn't know if I was ready to take the leap and find out if she'd be interested in me at all.
But I had an idea. Jessica, one of my old friends from junior high, happened to be close with Karen and another girl, Florine. Jessica was one of those people who always knew how to read a room, and she could be a bit of a matchmaker. So, one weekend, I gathered a group—Henry, Mek, Jessica, and a few others—and we went to play badminton at this court we rented for a couple of hours. The game was great, and between serves, Jessica managed to guess who I was interested in with surprising ease. I laughed it off, but deep down, I knew I'd need her help if I ever had a chance with Karen. To my surprise, Henry confessed he had a crush on Florine too. It lightened the mood, and suddenly, it felt like we were all in this together, all hoping for something more than just casual friendships.
Then came the opportunity I'd been hoping for: a group project. We were assigned to make an educational short film, and, as luck would have it, Karen and I ended up in the same group. A dozen of us gathered at Henry's house to plan it out, and I immediately offered Karen a ride, hoping to make a real connection on the way. But as she sat beside me in the car, I found myself unable to say a word. The courage I'd been building up seemed to evaporate, and we rode in silence. By the time we reached Henry's, I was kicking myself for wasting such a perfect chance.
The project itself only lasted a day, even though we'd expected it to go on for two. I was a mix of disappointment and relief, but fate wasn't done with me yet. The next day, Karen and I met again for a short follow-up, just the two of us. Those few minutes felt like a lifeline, and while I still couldn't say what I wanted to, I felt a strange sense of hope. *Maybe this wasn't over yet.* I thought of ways to approach her, to make her see I wanted to know her, but the words never seemed to form. *How can I reach someone so closed off, someone who keeps her world so tightly guarded?*
As I walked home, I thought of someone from my past—a girl from junior high with the initials "V." She was warm, caring, always looking out for me, especially when I didn't have the sense to look after myself. With her, everything had felt simple, natural. But one day, she changed schools, and that chapter closed without warning. I missed her, the easy way we'd connected, and I wondered if maybe I'd missed my chance at something real. But even then, I'd been reckless, careless with our time, and she'd faded into a memory.
Now, with Karen, I didn't want to make the same mistakes. I didn't want to let her slip away before I had the chance to see if this connection was real. I knew I'd have to find the courage to make it happen, to be brave enough to reach across the distance between us.
And as I lay in bed that night, I whispered to myself, *"I won't let this be just another 'could have been.'"*