Monday morning brought the usual bustle of Westbridge High, but for Sophie, everything felt a little different. The lingering memory of sports day still warmed her thoughts—Max's quiet smile, the way his eyes lit up as he sketched the chaos around him, and how comfortable she felt just being in his presence.
Rachel, of course, had noticed. "You're glowing," she teased as they walked to their lockers.
"I am not," Sophie said, rolling her eyes.
"Totally are," Rachel insisted. "It's because of your little artist friend, isn't it?"
Sophie opened her locker, deliberately ignoring Rachel's grin. "We're just friends."
"For now," Rachel said with a wink.
Sophie shook her head, laughing softly. Still, Rachel's words lingered in her mind as she made her way to first-period English. Could there be more between her and Max? Or was she just imagining things?
---
During lunch, Sophie found herself gravitating toward Max's usual spot. He was there, as always, his sketchbook open and his pencil moving across the page.
"Hey," she said, sitting down across from him.
Max looked up, his expression softening when he saw her. "Hey."
"What are you working on?" Sophie asked, leaning forward to catch a glimpse.
He hesitated, then turned the sketchbook toward her. It was a drawing of the bleachers from sports day, with students scattered across them. Sophie recognized herself and Rachel in the corner, laughing about something.
"Wow," she said, genuinely impressed. "You make it look so... alive."
Max shrugged, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "It's just what I saw."
"Well, you have a gift," Sophie said.
Max gave a small smile, then closed the sketchbook. "What about you? What's your thing?"
"My thing?" Sophie echoed.
"Yeah," Max said. "What's something you can't go a day without? Something that makes you... you."
Sophie thought about it. "I guess... writing. It's not like I do it every day, but when I do, it feels right, you know?"
Max nodded. "What do you write about?"
"Everything," Sophie said. "Stories, feelings, things I don't know how to say out loud."
"That's brave," Max said quietly.
Sophie laughed softly. "Not really. No one ever reads it."
"Maybe they should," Max said, his eyes meeting hers.
Sophie felt her breath catch. There was something in his gaze—something honest and unguarded—that made her feel seen in a way she hadn't before.
Before she could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
"I should go," Max said, standing and grabbing his sketchbook.
"Yeah, me too," Sophie said, though she didn't move right away.
As Max walked away, Sophie realized she hadn't told him how much that moment meant to her.