By the time Friday finally limped into existence, my brain felt like a half-burnt toast: not dead, but not functioning either.
The moment our last class ended, everyone exploded out of the room like we were being freed from a hostage situation. Mira grabbed my hand immediately.
"Weekend, baby!" she sang, twirling like she'd just been released from prison.
"Yeah," I sighed, "two days of peace, textbooks, and my dad's motivational yelling."
She patted my shoulder. "Stay strong."
As we walked toward the gate, Sana ran from behind us, panting dramatically like she just escaped a cheetah.
"Arista—Arista—oh my god—LISTEN!"
I braced myself. "Who did what this time?"
She leaned in, eyes glittering. "Devin and Sarah fought again. Like an actual shouting match. Apparently she accused him of flirting with someone in Section A."
Mira snorted. "Who in Section A would flirt with him? He looks like a sad potato with anger issues."
I bit my cheek. "Please don't say he thinks it's me."
Sana blinked.
"…He thinks it's you."
Great. Fridays never liked me anyway.
Before I could respond, Kaelor Han strolled past us with his group, laughing at something stupid his friend said. He didn't look our way, but I swear his shoulders stiffened slightly when he heard my name.
Or maybe that was just my delulu brain acting up again.
Zoe appeared from nowhere like a jump-scare. "Aristaaaa, GUESS what I saw!"
I rolled my eyes. "Who?"
She took a deep breath and whispered dramatically,
"Derek Sullivan was staring at you during Chemistry."
My heart stopped. Restarted. Then tripped on itself.
Mira smacked her own forehead. "Oh no. Not this man again."
"I literally don't care about him," I said quickly.
A lie. Not because I liked him — god no, never again —
but because hearing his name always dragged me back to that day.
That stupid letter.
His fingers tearing it in front of everyone.
My heart sinking like a stone in acid.
I shook my head. Not now. Not today.
---
At Home — Later
The Riveras' apartment smelled like freshly fried dumplings when I entered.
Mom, Serena Rivera, was shouting at the kitchen sink for existing.
"Arista! You're home. Eat first, breathe later."
Dad popped his head out of his office room.
"Arista, did your teacher post any homework? Did you check? Did you submit? Did—"
"Dad," I sighed, "I literally just entered."
He pointed a stern finger. "That's not an excuse."
I fought laughter and escaped to the living room where the only peaceful soul lived.
Sarvin sat on the floor with puzzle pieces scattered everywhere like confetti after a chaotic party.
He lifted his head slowly when he heard my steps, then smiled the purest smile.
I melted instantly.
"Di… puzzle?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I whispered, kneeling beside him, "puzzle."
And just like that, the world outside disappeared.
Kaelor.
Derek.
Devin.
All of them faded behind Sarvin's gentle hum and the click of puzzle pieces fitting perfectly.
---
Night Routine — Disaster Edition
Later that night, as I sat at my desk trying to do homework, Mira spammed our group chat with 47 messages, Sana sent voice notes that sounded like explosions, and Zoe kept saying she had "juicy tea" but never wrote it.
Then Mira texted:
"Arvin just messaged me. AGAIN."
Zoe:
"Girl he is dying for you."
Sana:
"Honestly Mira you have more romantic drama than Arista."
Me:
"HEY???"
My phone buzzed again.
A different name.
A name that made my stomach flip.
Derek Sullivan → "Are you awake?"
My soul left my body, went to Mars, filed for residency, then returned.
I stared at the message.
No.
No way.
No thank you.
I locked my phone and threw it on my bed like it was contagious.
---
Saturday Morning — Another Shift
I woke up at 7 a.m., which was a crime for a weekend morning.
While brushing my teeth, I heard Sana's voice note blasting like a siren.
Her voice cracked with excitement.
"ARISTA, I THINK KAELOR WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU TODAY. CALL ME."
I froze.
Toothpaste dripped down my chin dramatically like a waterfall of stupidity.
Kaelor Han…
talking about me?
No.
Impossible.
Unless something was shifting.
Unless someone was noticing.
Unless Monday was going to be…
different.