The morning bell rang with its usual annoying tring-tring, the kind that could wake even the dead but somehow didn't work on teenagers. Arista dragged herself into the school corridor, still half-asleep but pretending she was alive.
Her friends spotted her immediately.
"Princess Aristaaa!" Mira shouted dramatically, waving her lunchbox like a victory flag.
"Why are you yelling? It's 8 AM. My ears aren't insured," Arista muttered.
Mira smirked. "I have BREAKING NEWS."
Arista raised an eyebrow. "Did someone finally break the school WiFi password?"
"No. Better." Mira leaned closer. "HE'S BACK."
"Who?" Arista blinked.
The girls exchanged looks.
Then they said it together:
"Derek."
Arista froze. Derek?
Her first crush for eight years.
The boy who had rejected her in middle school with a polite but confidence-shattering:
"Sorry, I don't see you that way."
Arista gulped. "Y-you're joking."
"Nope. He shifted back to this city. And guess what?" Mira whispered.
"He's rejoined our school."
Arista's brain short-circuited. "WH—WHAT?!"
Before she could process any of it, a group of boys walked past…and among them—
Derek.
He was taller. Sharper jawline. Better hair. Same annoying smile that used to make her forget her maths formulas.
He glanced her way.
His eyes widened a little—almost like he didn't expect her to look…like this now. More confident, more mature, more Arista.
Arista immediately looked away, pretending to inspect a very interesting crack on the floor.
---
Across the hallway…
Kaelor walked out of his classroom, holding a book upside down without realizing it. His friend poked him.
"Why're you looking like you saw a ghost?"
Kaelor shrugged. "Nothing. Just tired."
But it wasn't "nothing".
He had noticed Arista the moment she walked in with her messy hair and sleepy eyes. And for reasons he refused to admit, his brain had been stuck on that image for the past five minutes.
He sighed. "Focus on studies, Kaelor. Focus."
He smacked his own head lightly.
His friend squinted. "Is this about that girl from the other section?"
"NO!" Kaelor snapped too quickly.
The friend grinned. "So it IS."
Kaelor groaned and hid his face behind the upside-down book.
---
Later, in the classroom
Arista tried to listen to the teacher, but her mind was on rewind.
Derek is back. Derek is in school. Derek is breathing. Derek exists.
She whispered to her benchmate, "Why today… why now… why when my hair looks like a failed noodle experiment?"
Before her friend could respond, the classroom door creaked open.
Everyone turned.
And entering the class was—
Derek, holding a transfer slip.
"Ma'am, Principal sir sent me to this section."
The teacher nodded. "Welcome back. Find a seat."
Almost instantly, several girls sat straighter, tossing their hair like malfunctioning fans.
The only person who didn't?
Arista—who immediately ducked behind her notebook as if it were a shield.
But Derek scanned the room.
His gaze stopped when he saw her.
A single small smile tugged his lips—soft, surprised, almost nostalgic.
Arista froze like a statue made entirely of awkwardness.
---
After school, in the parking area
Arista walked out, still embarrassed.
Then she heard footsteps.
"Arista?"
Her stomach dropped.
She turned around slowly.
Derek.
He gave a small smile. "It's been a long time."
"Yeah… eight years," she muttered, then immediately regretted sounding like she counted every day.
He chuckled. "You changed a lot."
Before she could figure out what that meant—compliment? observation? friendly comment?—someone called her name.
"Arista! You left your bottle!" It was Mira, running.
Arista grabbed the bottle, relieved for the interruption.
When she turned back, Derek was still looking at her—thoughtful, almost…curious.
"See you tomorrow," he said, before walking away.
Arista felt her brain melting.
Why does this feel like the opening scene of a drama?
---
Meanwhile… Kaelor
From the other side of the parking lot, Kaelor stood with his bicycle, watching the interaction silently.
He didn't know why his chest felt suddenly tight.
Why he frowned when Derek smiled at Arista.
Why he felt an urge to throw a chalk at Derek for no logical reason.
He looked away quickly.
"Focus on exams," he muttered to himself.
But the feeling didn't go away.