"I'm leaving, Anne. See you later!"
"See you, Asher. Study well."
Anne smiled gently, her warm gaze following the young man as he stepped out the door, adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulders.
The sun began to rise on the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange. Its rays illuminated the wide streets of Glenwood Springs, a small town in Colorado, surrounded by tree-covered mountains that seemed golden under the morning light. Cars moved slowly along the tree-lined avenues, and cafés started welcoming their first customers, with the aroma of fresh coffee lingering in the air.
Asher walked along the wide sidewalk, his boots echoing against the concrete as he adjusted his coat to shield himself from the chilly wind descending from the mountains. He crossed a bridge over a creek and glanced at the clear water, which reflected the warm hues of the sky. On the signboard of a local bakery, it read: "Fresh Bread - Try Our Apple Cake!".
As he turned a corner, he felt a tap on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice.
"Asher, good morning!"
Turning around, he saw James, his classmate—a slightly taller young man with wheat-colored blond hair and bright blue eyes. He always seemed to exude boundless energy, something that irritated Asher more than it should, especially in the mornings.
"...How are you this cheerful every morning before school?"
James let out a short laugh, adjusting his backpack with a casual gesture. "It's not that hard. You should try looking on the bright side: another day to learn, have fun, maybe even surprise someone."
Asher sighed, quickening his pace beside his friend. "Having fun at school? That's a new one. I think I'm in the wrong place."
James laughed again, ignoring the sarcasm. "It's because you don't get involved, Asher. You know, there's a presentation happening this afternoon. Some classmates are showcasing art projects. It'll be fun."
"Oh, sure, art... Just what's going to change my life," Asher replied without much conviction.
James patted Asher's back in a friendly manner. "Either way, I think I'll check out the presentation," he said. "It'll be in the main hallway. If you change your mind, come find me."
Without waiting for a response, he walked off, waving casually. Asher paused for a moment, watching his friend disappear into the distance, before continuing his walk. His mind felt far away, as though something deep inside his chest was pulling him toward a place he couldn't quite identify.
---
The rest of the morning followed a predictable routine. Asher sat in his usual desk by the window, absentmindedly watching the clouds drift across the clear sky. The teacher's voice sounded distant, muffled by the constant buzz of his own thoughts.
Then, in the middle of a lecture on the Industrial Revolution, the classroom door opened, and the principal entered accompanied by a striking young girl.
"Class, I'd like to introduce the new student who will be joining us from today. This is Clara Evans."
Clara had light brown hair cascading in loose waves over her shoulders. Her green eyes shone with a peculiar intensity, and there was something about her posture—confident yet understated—that immediately captured everyone's attention.
"Please take the empty seat next to Asher," said the principal, gesturing toward the spot.
Asher let out a small sigh, diverting his gaze back to the blackboard.
"Hello," Clara murmured, offering a faint smile as she sat down.
"Hi," Asher replied curtly.
From the slightly puzzled look she gave him afterward, it seemed she wasn't fond of his tone. Not that he cared either way. Asher turned his head back to the window, continuing to watch the clouds as a distraction.
The murmurs in the room soon subsided as the lesson resumed, and the morning passed by quickly. When lunchtime came, the noise in the hallway grew as students moved around. Asher gathered his books and rose slowly. On his way out, he ran into Mr. Winslow, the math teacher, who called him over with a gesture.
"Asher, a moment, please," said the teacher in his calm, deep voice.
"Yes, Mr. Winslow?" Asher responded, surprised as the teacher closed the door behind them, creating a private space.
"I've been reflecting on you, young man," began Winslow, his voice unexpectedly serious. "You've been putting in effort in class, but I wonder if you've thought about your future."
Asher raised an eyebrow. "The future? Well, I think about it... but I'm not sure it really matters."
The teacher nodded, his deep and penetrating eyes making Asher slightly uncomfortable. "You have potential for much more than you realize. This town has its limits, but the world out there, Asher... it's vast. Opportunities are endless, and you're capable of achieving great things. You just need to decide what you want."
Asher shook his head, unsettled. "I... I don't know what to do. How can you think about something grand when you can't even see the path ahead, you know?"
Mr. Winslow smiled enigmatically, as though the answer was closer than Asher imagined. "Sometimes, it's just a matter of taking the first step, Asher. Don't let fear or doubt paralyze you. If I could offer one piece of advice, I'd suggest considering Stanford or UC Berkeley. Those institutions could truly open doors for you, but you'll need to work for it. The admission process is competitive, but I believe you have what it takes."
Asher frowned, mulling over the teacher's words. "Stanford... Berkeley... I've never thought about that."
"You should. And for that, you'll need support. If you're interested, I can help you prepare and even write a recommendation letter. But the decision is yours."
Asher nodded briefly and left the room with a mind swirling with thoughts. James appeared again, grinning as always.
"Did you see the new girl? They say she's from New York, transferred because her dad got a job here," he said, pointing toward Clara, who was now chatting with a group of girls in the cafeteria.
Asher glanced at her briefly, uninterested. "Hmm. Just another girl."
James shrugged. "Maybe. But she seems different, don't you think?"
Asher didn't reply. Restlessness crept over him for no apparent reason. Something about Clara's expression, the way she looked at others, and the glint in her eyes felt oddly familiar—as though he'd seen that look before, in another place and another time. But the thought vanished as quickly as it had come.
The rest of the day blurred by. Asher barely managed to focus. When the afternoon arrived, and the presentations began, an unusual unease settled over him. Watching his classmates present their art projects—just as James had mentioned earlier—he felt an odd detachment, as though his mind was shrouded in a strange fog.
"Hmm?" He frowned, confused. While not particularly sociable or expressive, he wasn't someone who typically felt so disconnected. Something was off.
As he watched the presentations, an unusual warmth spread across the back of his neck. The voices around him distorted, and the colors on stage blended into an indistinct blur. A moment later, everything went dark.
---
He woke up staring at the ceiling, lying on the couch in the living room. His heart was racing uncontrollably, and he was gasping for air as if he'd just run a marathon. The soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting the walls with a warm golden hue, but the lingering sense of confusion persisted. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fog of the dream.
"Ah…" he muttered to himself, running his hands over his face.
It was just a dream, after all. Lost in his own thoughts, he had dozed off on the couch. Trying to collect his thoughts, he stood up slowly. Then something interrupted his reverie — a pleasant, comforting smell wafted through the air.
"Anne..." he murmured, recognizing the aroma of something being prepared in the kitchen.
Asher shuffled into the kitchen, still groggy, dragging his feet across the wooden floor. Anne was at the counter, preparing toast while the smell of fresh tea filled the room. She was dressed in simple, work-appropriate clothes, her movements quick and efficient.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said without looking up from the bread she was buttering. "I thought I'd have to shake you awake to get you off the couch."
"Good morning," Asher mumbled, sinking into a chair by the table. He yawned. "You're awfully cheerful for someone who gets up early every day."
Anne chuckled, pouring him a cup of tea. "Cheerful? You must be joking. I have a mountain of reports to review today, and then there's that inspection at the factory. I just love being responsible for fixing problems I didn't cause."
"Ah, the glamour of administration." Asher took the cup, blowing on the steam before taking a sip. "You could ask for a vacation, you know? I think you need one."
"A vacation? Sure, I'll take two weeks off and leave you in charge of everything here. Let's see how you figure out how to pay the bills on your own." Anne gave him a playful look as she placed the toast on a plate and brought it to the table.
"Well…" He grabbed a piece of toast and took a bite. "But seriously, you don't seem very excited to go today. Is something bothering you?"
"Nothing I haven't dealt with before." Anne sat across from him, holding her own cup of tea. "It's just that same exhausting routine, you know? Sometimes I wonder… is this all there is? Working to keep things running, with no time to think about much else."
Asher raised an eyebrow. "Hey, that's my line of thinking, not yours. I'm supposed to be the existential teenager here."
Anne let out a short laugh. "Alright, alright. I'll stop stealing your role. And you? Are you okay?"
"Me?" Asher hesitated, focusing on his toast. "Just tired, I guess. Nothing much."
Anne watched him for a moment, her blue eyes slightly narrowed. "Alright. If something's bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?"
"I know." He gave a small, sincere smile. "It's just school, the usual stuff."
"School… those were the good old days," Anne said with a laugh.
"Good? I don't know how you can say that. It's pretty boring. But, then again, it might be better than your job… or maybe not. At least you get paid."
Anne raised an eyebrow, still laughing. "Oh yes, because earning money totally makes up for dealing with insufferable people and mountains of paperwork. If you want to switch places, Asher, be my guest."
"I'll pass for now, thanks." He bit into another piece of toast, shrugging.
"That's what I thought," Anne replied with a gentle smile, sitting at the table with her own cup of coffee.
Asher quickly finished breakfast and stood up, grabbing his backpack from the corner of the living room. He adjusted the straps on his shoulders, making sure all his notebooks were inside. Then, he ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying to straighten it out, though the mirror near the door showed his efforts didn't make much difference.
"I'm off, Anne. See you later!"
"See you, Asher. Have a good day at school."
Anne smiled warmly, her gaze following the young man as he stepped out the door, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders.
The sun began to rise on the horizon, painting the sky with shades of orange. Its rays illuminated the wide streets of Glenwood Springs, cars moved slowly along the tree-lined avenues, and cafés started welcoming their first customers, with the aroma of fresh coffee lingering in the air.