"Emily, darling, hurry up, or you'll miss the bus!" her father called from downstairs.
"Today is the day," Emily whispered to herself, heart pounding as she thought about it. "I'm finally going to tell Andrew how I feel."
"I'll be down in a sec, Dad!" she called back, her voice carrying a mix of nerves and excitement as she hurried down the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she stole one last glance around her room, as if hoping it would give her courage.
When she reached the bottom, her half-sister Rose smirked. "I heard you talking to yourself again, Em. Are you actually going to tell him this time, or are you going to chicken out again?" She made a soft clucking noise, which Emily ignored with a playful eye roll.
"I will tell him," Emily said, unable to keep a shy smile from her face. "It's just… when I'm around him, my thoughts scramble, and my knees get weak."
Rose laughed, nudging her in the ribs. "Someone's definitely in love!" Their dad chuckled as he overheard, putting down his coffee. "You sound just like your mother when I first met her," he said warmly, his eyes misting over with a hint of nostalgia.
The bus rumbled to a stop outside. Emily and Rose exchanged a glance. "Is that the bus?" they exclaimed in unison. They quickly grabbed their bags and rushed out, waving goodbye to their father as they went.
The bus ride felt like the start of something new for Emily—a fresh chapter, full of possibilities. She couldn't help but notice the older students on board, fascinated by their confidence, their unique styles, their dyed hair, and their colorful jackets. They radiated a sense of freedom she deeply admired, a boldness she wanted to find in herself.
Meanwhile, Rose was less thrilled by the experience. She wrinkled her nose as she took in the worn, stained seats and the stale, musty smell that lingered in the air. Glancing down, her face paled. Near her feet lay a small, decayed mouse, with flies hovering around it. She tensed, crossing her arms tightly and fighting back the nausea rising in her throat.
Just then, a boy sitting a few seats away noticed them and leaned over with a friendly smile. "I haven't seen you here before. Are you new?"
Rose nodded, still looking queasy. "Yeah, we're exchange students," she managed. "This is… definitely different from what we're used to."
The boy laughed, introducing himself as Jason. He was tall, with dark skin and a calm, easygoing presence that put both girls at ease. He didn't seem like a typical 16-year-old—he was steady, composed, with a maturity that was somehow reassuring. His warm eyes sparkled as he reached out a hand.
"Nice to meet you," he said gently. Emily shook his hand, feeling her cheeks warm slightly, but Jason just smiled, noticing her hesitation. "It's okay," he said kindly. "You'll get used to things here."
For Rose, though, the bus ride was growing unbearable. Her face turned pale as the stale odor mingled with the sight of the decaying mouse. "Oh my… I think I'm going to be sick," she murmured faintly.
Emily noticed her discomfort and, trying to distract her, made a lighthearted joke. "So that's where the smell was coming from!"
But Rose couldn't hold back any longer. She quickly leaned out the window, letting her stomach empty onto the sidewalk below. Unfortunately, her timing couldn't have been worse—a passing elderly man was caught in the spray. He stopped in shock, shaking his fist and shouting, "You hooligans!"
The kids on the bus burst into laughter, with some groaning and others shouting, "Gross!" and "Epic!" Emily placed a comforting hand on Rose's back, whispering, "You're okay. Just breathe." Gradually, Rose caught her breath, though she looked like she wished she could disappear.
A loud, gravelly voice rang out from the front of the bus. "Hope you didn't get any on the seats! If you did, clean it up. Don't make me come back there," snapped the bus driver, his tone edged with irritation.
The driver, Mark, was a fixture in the town. Gruff and in his late 50s, he carried an aura of someone who'd seen too much of life's harder edges. Few kids took him seriously, seeing him as just a cranky old man. But there was more to his story than most realized. Once, he'd been a promising soccer player, known for his skill as a goalie, nicknamed "The Wall" for his ability to block nearly every shot.
But one fateful game had changed everything. It was a championship match, and Mark had held the line with unwavering grit, refusing to let the opposing team score. Shot after shot, he saved, as the crowd's excitement grew. But near the end, his body began to give out. He collapsed on the field, clutching his leg in agony. Taken to the hospital, he was given crushing news: he had a severe leg fracture and torn muscle fibers. Without immediate treatment, he might never even walk without pain again, let alone play soccer.
For Mark, who'd come from a modest background, soccer had been a ticket to a better future, a scholarship, maybe even a career. But as he lay in the hospital, he realized his dream had slipped away. Over the years, the bitterness from that loss hardened into the irritable man the students now knew.
As the bus rattled along, Emily glanced at her sister, who seemed a little better but still shaken. For a moment, she felt a sense of connection to everyone on the bus—even to cranky old Mark and her cautious sister, each carrying their own quiet hopes and fears.
She took a deep breath, letting herself settle into this new reality, a place where strangers became friends, and even uncomfortable moments hinted at a story beneath the surface. As the bus finally came to a stop, Emily felt less afraid, and more like this journey—strange, unpredictable, and even a little messy—might be exactly what she needed.
As Emily stepped off the bus, she imagined a flash of light and saw herself on an imaginary stage, with her classmates as her audience. Her heart raced at the thought of finally telling Andrew how she felt. But her daydream was abruptly cut short by Rose's voice, sharp and to the point: "We're late."
The words immediately brought Emily back to reality. She gave Rose a quick nod and ran hurried to keep up as she ran behind Rose wait up she said , weaving through groups of students as they made their way to the assembly hall. Inside, a large board was posted at the front, with students gathering around it, murmuring in excitement and curiosity. Each student was assigned to a special class based on their entrance exam scores.
"Em, look over there," Rose said, nudging her gently. Emily followed her gaze and spotted Andrew, scanning the board for his name. Her stomach filled with butterflies as she watched him. Rose leaned in, whispering with a teasing grin, "I bet you're hoping to be in the same class, right?" Emily shot her a look but couldn't keep a shy smile from creeping onto her face.
"Don't worry," Emily said with a playful shrug. "According to my horoscope, this month I'm destined to meet my true love." Rose snickered, shaking her head.
Just then, Andrew found his name on the board, but his expression darkened. His friend noticed and asked, "Hey, what's up?" Andrew sighed and admitted, "My parents are making me transfer. My dad got promoted, so we're moving in a month."
His friend looked disappointed but tried to lift his spirits. "Well, if you're going soon, let's make the most of the time you have left!" They exchanged a smile, their voices lightening as they walked away from the board, where Andrew had been placed in Class C.
Excited, Emily rushed over to the board to check her own assignment. She scanned the list, her heart pounding until she found it—she, too, was in Class C! She felt a surge of excitement and blurted out, "I can finally tell Andrew how I feel!"
The sudden outburst echoed down the hall, and everyone around her fell silent, turning to stare. Embarrassed, Emily quickly covered her mouth, her cheeks burning. She gave an awkward laugh and tried to hide behind Rose, who chuckled and gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
As Emily rushed out, she saw Andrew saying goodbye to his friends, admitting he was going to miss them a lot . Sad and heartbroken, Emily rushed to the ladies ' bathroom to weep. Throughout class, she couldn't stop thinking about how her happiness would be short-lived and how she never had the opportunity to tell Andrew how she felt about him. It was heartbreaking.
When the school day ended, Emily and Rose walked back home. Rose glanced at Emily, noticing she wasn't looking quite happy, so she decided to ask, "What's going on?" With teary eyes, Emily answered, "He's moving and is being transferred to another academy." With a smile, Rose said, "Then this is the opportunity to tell him how you feel—after all, you have nothing to lose."
With a glimmer of hope, Emily smiled and asked, "But how? I always mess it up. How do I tell him how I feel without stuttering or completely making a fool of myself?" Rose replied, "You could write him a letter or something, but I'll let you figure that part out on your own."
When Emily got home, she couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Andrew was moving. She tried so hard distracting herself with some activities: she tried cleaning, but that didn't work; she tried playing games, but that didn't work either; she even tried doing all the laundry, but that didn't work as well. Finally, she decided to do what Rose had suggested—she decided to tell him how she felt, but she didn't want to make a fool of herself in person, so she decided to write a letter. She spent hours writing, and by the time she finished, it was really long.
Early the next morning, Emily got up and went to Andrew's locker to slip the letter inside.