The house felt quieter now, with Mrs. Pat and Elsa away. The scent of fresh coffee and baked bread floated through the air as the morning sun spilled through the large kitchen windows. I had spent most of the night studying, my eyes heavy with sleep and my notes scattered across my desk. Exams were close, and I was determined to give it my all—not just for myself, but for Mr. Philip, who believed in me.
Shawn was the first to walk into the kitchen that morning, dressed casually in a grey hoodie and sweatpants, his hair tousled from sleep. He was on his laptop again, scrolling through school applications. He barely spoke to anyone during breakfast, but his eyes often flicked up, resting too long on me before darting away when I looked his way.
I entered the kitchen next, wearing my Ridgeview uniform. My books hugged to my chest, my hair neatly tied back. Our eyes met for a second—just one second—but it was enough for something to pass between us. Quiet. Tense. Charged.
"Morning," I said softly.
"Hey," Shawn replied, barely above a whisper, but with a strange kind of warmth.
Mr. Philip walked in behind us, cheerful and already in a suit. "Big week for you, Anne. You ready?"
I smiled faintly. "I'm trying."
"That's my girl," he said, pouring himself coffee. "We believe in you."
Emily and Josh soon came bounding in, giggling about cartoons and fighting over who got more syrup on their pancakes. The usual noise made things feel normal again.
As I picked up my bag to leave for school, Shawn stood up too. Our arms brushed slightly in the narrow hallway, and I froze. So did he.
"Good luck," he murmured close to my ear.
"Thanks," I whispered, not turning back.
I left with Emily and Josh, my heartbeat echoing louder than it should. Shawn watched us go from the doorway, hands in his pockets, something unreadable in his expression.
Inside, silence settled.
But tension lingered in the air—subtle, slow, and unmistakably growing.
I finally arrived at Ridgeview Girls College just as the morning sun cast golden light through the trees. I met up with Maya at our usual spot under the shade near the garden, books in hand. The campus buzzed with a soft hum—groups of girls gathered in circles, revising for the upcoming exams. No lessons were being taught this week, only preparation.
The benches were full of open textbooks and whispered explanations, and the garden was alive with quiet focus.
Maya and I settled under a tree with our notes. After a few minutes of silent studying, Maya leaned in a little, voice low and teasing.
"So… how's the palace been since Elsa left?" she asked with a playful nudge. "And what about that brother of hers? Still walking around like the air owes him something?"
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "It's… strange," I admitted. "Quiet without Mrs. Pat and Elsa, but Shawn—he's still there."
Maya arched a brow. "And?"
I looked away, fingers fiddling with the edge of my notebook. "There's this… tension. Like he doesn't know whether to avoid me or talk to me. Sometimes I catch him staring, other times he doesn't even say a word."
Maya grinned. "Staring? Sounds like something's brewing."
I rolled my eyes, but my smile gave me away. "It's not like that. I just… don't know how to act around him."
"Then just act like you always do," Maya said simply. "If he wants to be weird, let him be weird. You've got exams to focus on."
I nodded, grateful.
We both burst into soft laughter, shaking our heads at how much we had to remember. Around us, more giggles broke out as other girls swapped notes and shared memory tricks. The atmosphere was light despite the pressure of exams.
I leaned back, my gaze on the fluttering leaves above us. "You know," I said, "I think I'll come visit you tomorrow."
Maya perked up. "Wait, seriously?"
I nodded. "Yeah. No school. It's a holiday, right? Might as well spend it somewhere new."
Maya grinned wide. "Yes! Finally. You'll meet my chaotic little brothers. And my mom makes the best mango juice."
I smiled. It felt nice—normal—to have something to look forward to. Just two girls making plans between books and laughter.
As the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Maya turned to me and said, "Hey, I'm really glad we met, you know."
I blinked, caught off guard by the honesty. I glanced at Maya, then smiled. "Me too."
We packed our things and walked out together, blending into the crowd of students. Outside the gate, Mr. Philip's driver waited in the sleek black car, waving as I approached.
Maya gave a small wave. "See you tomorrow, visitor."
"Don't forget the mango juice," I called back with a smirk.
I climbed into the car, still smiling.
The ride home was quiet. I sat by the window, my mind replaying the laughter and easy banter I'd shared with Maya. It felt good to laugh again—freely, without holding back. My life wasn't perfect, not even close, but it no longer felt like a constant uphill battle.
When I got home, the house was calm. Emily and Josh were in the living room, sprawled on the carpet playing a board game Mr. Philip had bought them. Their giggles echoed through the hallway. I smiled and dropped my bag by the stairs.
I was just about to head up when I heard the soft thud of footsteps behind me.
"You looked happy today," Shawn said, standing by the bottom of the stairs.
I turned slowly, surprised to find him there. He wasn't smirking or wearing the usual unreadable mask. Just… quiet.
"I was," I replied simply.
"Must've been a fun class," he added, voice low.
"Wasn't class," I said, lifting a brow. "Maya and I were studying."
Shawn gave a small nod. "You laugh different when you're with her."
I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know," he said, eyes flicking up to mine. "Just an observation."
I tilted my head slightly. "Are you… keeping tabs on me?"
He gave a dry chuckle and looked away. "Don't flatter yourself."
I rolled my eyes, brushing past him to climb the stairs. "Could've fooled me."
Shawn stood there, watching as I disappeared around the corner, that same strange feeling tightening in his chest again. Something about the way I didn't try to impress him—how I didn't care whether he watched or not—drove him crazy.
Upstairs, I entered my room, closed the door behind me, and leaned against it for a second. My heart was beating faster than it should. Not from fear. Not from sadness.
Something else entirely.
And I hated that it had anything to do with him.