Nooo… not again, Laura. I can't do this anymore!"
Laura turned lazily toward Cassidy. "What now, Cass?"
"Do we really have to keep studying? I'm losing my mind already."
Laura raised an eyebrow. "You agreed to my terms, remember?"
Cassidy groaned dramatically. "But it's already late afternoon, Laura. When do we stop?"
"When it's dark. When you all fall asleep on the table."
Cassidy's eyes went wide. "You're kidding, right?"
"Nope."
Rachel rubbed her forehead. "Laura, the human brain needs rest, you know?"
"That's the human brain," Laura replied flatly.
"What?"
"We are human, Laura," Sandra said, half-laughing.
Laura glanced up with a sly smirk. "Who said you were?"
The three girls stared at each other, unsure if she was joking.
Laura sighed, her tone turning calm but firm. "Cass, Rachel, Sandra… I talked to our homeroom teacher yesterday. I saw your mock exam scores — they're way too low. To even qualify for college, you need at least a C in English, Math, Science, and History."
Silence filled the room, broken only by the soft whir of the ceiling fan.
Laura looked at them one by one, her gaze steady yet gentle.
"I've already lost six years with you guys. I don't want us drifting apart again. I want all four of us to graduate together, to go to college together. I want us — not just memories of us."
Cassidy took a deep breath, forcing a small smile even as her eyes glistened.
"What if we end up in different colleges?"
Laura shook her head firmly, her smile soft but certain.
"No, Cass. We're doing this together. All four of us. Promise me you'll try — just this once."
She reached out, holding Cassidy's hand. "Please, Cass. Rachel, Sandra. Let's do this — together."
Rachel slowly nodded, then Sandra followed.
"Alright," Cassidy said, finally giving in. "I'll do it. No more whining."
"Same," Rachel added.
"Me too," Sandra chimed in, her smile brighter this time.
That night, the four of them stayed in the living room of the Candle House, surrounded by stacks of textbooks and open notebooks. Under the soft glow of the desk lamp, their voices blended with quiet laughter and tired sighs.
And for the first time, they weren't studying because someone told them to — they were studying because they wanted to make it together.
-----
The next morning — Monday — Abraham Lincoln High School in Little Britain was unusually quiet.
No laughter spilling from the cafeteria, no sneakers squeaking down the hallways — only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the echo of footsteps on the marble floor.
The first exam: English Literature & Creative Writing.
Laura walked calmly beside Cassidy, Rachel, and Sandra toward the exam hall. Each of them carried an armful of books and notes, as if trying to cram one last page before the bell. Cassidy let out a long yawn, covering her mouth.
"Ugh… first day and I already feel dead," she muttered.
Rachel hugged her notebook tightly against her chest. "My brain literally goes blank every time I see an exam desk."
Sandra looked down, clutching her half-broken pencil like a lifeline. "I'm scared I'll forget everything I studied last night…"
Laura took a deep breath and smiled softly. "Hey, relax. Remember what I said — don't think about the grades. Think about what you've learned. That's what matters."
Cassidy groaned. "Easy for you to say. You're the genius."
Laura chuckled, shaking her head. "If I were a genius, I wouldn't have been up till two a.m. last night."
They entered the main hall — rows upon rows of desks lined neatly, the air filled with the scent of paper, wood, and faint traces of pencil lead. Up front, the exam supervisors waited, faces stern and unreadable.
Cassidy glanced sideways at Laura before taking her seat. "If I fail, I swear I'm blaming you."
Laura smiled, pulling out her chair. "If you fail, I'll personally wake you up every morning until you retake the exam."
"Deal," Cassidy whispered back, shooting her a playful look just as the bell rang.
Silence fell.
The only sound left was the soft scratching of pens on paper.
Laura lowered her gaze, eyes moving steadily across the pages of questions. For a moment, a small smile curved her lips.
To her, this wasn't just another test.
It was a promise — that the four of them would make it through together, to the same college, chasing the same dream.
-----
Ugh, finally, we're done!"
"Shh… Cass," Laura hissed, glancing sharply at her.
"What? Why?"
Laura simply pressed a finger to her lips, then nodded toward the small study room beside the library. Through the glass, they could see Justin sitting at the front desk — pencil in hand, his face full of focus, lips moving slightly as he read his notes under his breath.
"Oh, it's my brother," Cassidy said with a small grin.
Rachel leaned closer. "He actually looks serious this time."
"Let's hope he passes," Laura whispered.
Cassidy nodded, eyes still on her brother. They were born the same year — Justin in January, Cassidy in December — but he had started high school earlier. His obsession with football had cost him; he'd failed and had to repeat the year.
Laura watched him quietly. The way he wrote, the way his jaw tightened in concentration — something stirred inside her. Not pity. Something warmer. Admiration, maybe.
You can do this, Justin. The notes I gave you should help…
She still remembered last Saturday — Justin showing up looking tired but calm, asking for help with English and Math. She'd spent two hours checking his papers, rewriting notes, explaining problems.
Now, seeing him so focused, Laura couldn't help but smile to herself.
Cassidy caught her and smirked. "You've been staring at him for a while, haven't you?"
Laura quickly turned away, cheeks warming. "No, I was just—"
Rachel chuckled softly. "Yeah, yeah… just monitoring your student's progress."
Laura sighed. "Can't I look?"
"You can, Laura," Sandra teased, covering her mouth to hide a giggle. "If you like him, just say you like him."
"What, Sandra?" Laura blinked, half-flustered.
Sandra burst out laughing.
Cassidy shook her head with a grin. "So, where are you heading after this, Laura?"
"I'm taking Sandra to get her passport. You two wait at the usual spot — we'll come later."
"Want me to grab you something?"
Laura grinned. "Of course. But no donuts. If you can, pizza — three boxes."
Cassidy laughed. "Okay, my lady."
They split up after that. Laura and Sandra walked toward the parking lot, the afternoon breeze carrying the soft scent of grass and asphalt. Laura's red scooter was parked at the end of the row, helmet hanging loosely on the side.
"Don't worry about anything, okay? I'll handle it," Laura said quietly, slipping on her helmet.
Sandra looked down. "Sometimes you make me feel embarrassed, Laura…"
"Please, Sandra. Don't say that. I want to help you."
"I know…" she murmured. "I just don't want you to feel like I'm some kind of burden. Whatever you do, I—"
Laura cut her off, her tone firm but gentle. "Sandra. I'm doing this because you're my friend, not because I pity you. Don't ever think you're a burden. You matter to me, okay?"
Sandra froze for a moment, eyes glistening as she held back her emotions.
Laura started the scooter, the low rumble breaking the quiet between them.
Without another word, they both climbed on — and rode off into the fading light of the afternoon.
-----
Time flew fast that week — and by Friday, everything seemed to slow down.
No exams, no classes — just the lazy hum of the ceiling fans and the chatter of students talking about their weekend plans.
Cassidy was half-lying on her desk, cheek pressed against her arm. Her eyes wandered toward the corner of the room where Laura sat with Sandra and Omar. Rachel had just joined them, holding a bottle of water.
"Didn't even bother to invite me…" Cassidy muttered under her breath, lips forming a pout.
At the far table, Laura laughed softly at something Omar said.
"I'm serious, Laura," Omar said with mock gravity, "when you get to Paris, don't video call me."
Laura raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Omar took a deep breath, putting on an overly serious face while fighting back a grin. "Because I swear, if your grandma suddenly appears behind you during the call, I might actually die on the spot."
Sandra burst into laughter. Rachel slapped Omar's shoulder, shaking her head.
"Bro, chill. Laura's grandma isn't a ghost."
"Doesn't matter. Her aura is terrifying," Omar replied, eyes wide in fake trauma.
Laura shook her head, laughing. "Relax. I promise I won't show her on camera. But seriously — once we get there, I'll call you."
Omar shrugged, half-smiling. "Fine. But don't you dare prank me."
"No promises," Laura grinned.
Rachel and Sandra giggled.
"By the way," Omar added, "I've got football practice this evening. You girls should come watch. At least pretend to support me."
Sandra looked at Rachel and Laura. "We're free this afternoon, right?"
Rachel nodded. "Totally free."
Laura shrugged. "Sure, we'll come. But if it's boring, I'm leaving early."
From the back, Cassidy mumbled just loud enough, "Yeah, like you're really gonna leave early…"
"Right… maybe Justin's the reason," Sandra teased — but before she could finish, Laura quickly covered her mouth.
"Hey! Don't say that name," Laura hissed.
Omar, Rachel, and Cassidy all burst into laughter. The classroom erupted into its usual Friday chaos — that lazy, restless energy that came right before a long weekend.
After a while, Rachel went back to her seat. Sandra rested her head on her desk, looking half-asleep.
That left only Laura and Omar still talking.
"So, how did Justin's exam go? Did he say anything?" Laura asked quietly, her eyes drifting toward the back row.
Omar shrugged, hands in his pockets. "He hasn't said much. But usually when he's quiet, it means he did okay. Why, you worried?"
"Can't I ask?" she replied, her tone slightly defensive.
"You can," Omar said, tilting his head, a teasing smirk on his face. "But usually when a girl asks about a guy like that… it means something."
Laura shot back instantly, "So if I asked about you, that means I've got something with you, huh?"
Omar chuckled. "Come on, Laura. If you like him, just admit it. Justin's still single, you know?"
Laura fell silent. No comeback this time.
Omar's grin turned sly. "Oh right… I forgot. You already have Steve."
Laura's tone shifted. "Please, Omar. Don't say his name."
"What, too sensitive?"
Laura took a deep breath, eyes clouded with something she couldn't explain. Every time that name came up, a strange irritation bubbled inside her. "Hey, Omar."
"Yeah?"
"Did I… really like Steve before?"
"Before?" Omar crossed his arms, half amused. "You mean you don't anymore?" He gave a short laugh. "Come on, Laura. You used to light up every time Steve came back for break. Even last month, you went out with him, didn't you?"
Laura frowned, tapping her temple like she was trying to remember. "Why can't I remember any of that?"
Omar sighed through his nose, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Laura, that was literally last month. If you've forgotten already, maybe you need to see someone about that."
"Shut up, Omar," Laura said quietly, but firmly.
His expression softened, the teasing gone. "Justin's my best friend, Laura. And you're my cousin. If you're just gonna mess with his feelings, don't. Be loyal to what you already have — or don't give anyone false hope."
------
The clock showed 12:30 p.m. when Laura arrived home after sending Sandra back. The house was quiet—too quiet.
Her mother hadn't been home for three days, staying overnight at her second house in Atlanta. It wasn't unusual. As a law professor at Georgia State University, her schedule was always packed.
Laura walked into the kitchen. The refrigerator stood silently in the corner, and the only sound came from the ticking wall clock. Just as she reached for the fridge handle, she noticed a small note stuck to the door — her mother's handwriting.
"Sweetheart, take care of yourself. If anything happens, call me or your uncle. Love you always."
Laura smiled faintly. She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of cold water — and for the first time that day, the silence around her didn't feel peaceful at all.
She took a slow sip. The water was icy, but somehow her chest felt hollow.
Leaning against the counter, her eyes drifted back to the small note on the fridge. Three days without her mother's voice in the house — too long for someone used to hearing the clacking of a keyboard from the living room or the soft murmur of her mother on the phone.
She took a deep breath, then laughed softly to herself.
"Strange… missing the noise," she murmured.
A few moments later, she climbed the stairs and opened the door to her room. Everything was just as she left it — the unmade bed, books scattered across the desk. But her eyes stopped at a framed photo beside the bed: her, her mother, her father, and her brother — all smiling at the beach at sunset.
Laura sat down slowly, her finger brushing over the frame.
"I miss that feeling," she whispered before leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
Then —
"Put the bottle down. Help me push the car here."
The man's voice echoed faintly, distant, as if coming from somewhere deep within her memory.
"Dad… everyone's already gathered in the hall."
"Just a minute…"
"Why don't you pour the gas over there instead?"
"It's too dark there, I can't see."
"Use your phone's light?"
"No — it's dangerous. It could explode."
"Whatever you say, Dad…"
Laura stood frozen. Their voices rang in her head, but none of them looked her way. The boy — maybe twelve years old — placed a gasoline canister near the school's parking lot.
She stepped closer, each movement light, almost floating. It felt as though her feet didn't touch the ground. She tried to speak, but no sound came out.
Then everything shifted — darker, quieter. Only the hum of crickets and the whisper of the wind remained. Near the hall, she saw a teenage boy in a black suit, smoking. The smoke curled lazily as he spoke on the phone, his voice calm but broken — like pieces of words stitched together wrong.
Beside the shut door of the hall, old chairs were stacked. On one of them lay a Zippo lighter and a half-open pack of cigarettes.
Laura stared, her chest tightening. She'd seen this before — she was sure of it. But when she tried to remember, a sharp pain struck her head.
Her hand gripped the door handle — heavy, resisting, as though something on the other side was pushing back. Her breathing quickened.
"Why… is it so hard…" she whispered.
Then a deep, commanding voice echoed — not from outside, but inside her mind.
"Wake up, Laura!"
It pierced through her like thunder, shaking her awake.
Laura gasped. Her eyes flew open, her breath ragged, skin damp with cold sweat. She winced, holding her head — pain pulsed from the back of her neck to her forehead.
Her room. The curtains swayed softly under the ceiling fan's breeze.
She stayed still for a moment, trying to calm her heart, convincing herself it was only a dream. But deep down, she knew — that voice had felt too real to be just part of sleep.
"What… was that…" she muttered, still trembling. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for something, anything. Her chest rose and fell quickly.
The sudden ring of her phone made her flinch. She snatched it from the bed and answered.
"Hello?"
"Laura! We're almost there," Rachel's cheerful voice shouted over the noise.
"Huh? Going where?" Laura frowned, still dazed.
"Seriously? We're watching Omar's football practice, remember?"
"But… that's at four, isn't it?"
"It's almost four, Laura. Are you half-asleep or what?"
Laura froze. Her eyes shifted to the clock on the table — the hands pointed almost exactly at twelve and four.
"It's already four?" she whispered to herself, confusion washing over her.
"Alright… I'll be ready," she replied quickly, hanging up.
For a few seconds, she just stood there, staring blankly at the air in front of her. Then slowly, she walked to the bathroom — still haunted by that strange, unexplainable feeling.
------
The afternoon sun spilled its fading light over the wide, green school field. The air was warm, and the sharp sound of a whistle sliced through the chatter of students walking along the track.
"Alright! Everyone to the center! Warm-up now!" Mr. Felix's deep voice — the football coach — echoed from the sidelines.
The players immediately formed lines. Their breathing was heavy, but no one ever disobeyed Mr. Felix.
Omar Felix, the team's main striker — and the coach's own son — stood in front, his face set in determination.
"Five laps around the field! No one slacks off!" Mr. Felix barked, blowing the whistle again.
Dozens of footsteps thudded against the grass in unison. Omar led the pack — tall, solid, and full of energy. Just behind him ran Justin, the team's quarterback, keeping a steady pace — focused but calm.
"Keep the pace, guys!" Omar called out, glancing back.
Some players groaned, others laughed between breaths. Afternoon training was always like that — half pressure, half fun.
After five laps, everyone stopped at the center of the field, panting hard. No one spoke — not until Mr. Felix did.
The coach stepped forward, clipboard in hand, his eyes sharp.
"Good. But don't think I'm satisfied. This is the semifinal — not a playground session. If your stamina's weak, you're not my player."
Silence. Omar bowed his head slightly, clenching his fists — he knew his father meant every word.
Justin leaned closer and patted his shoulder. "Relax, bro. At least he didn't yell your name today," he whispered with a faint grin.
Omar smirked. "Not yet."
The whistle blew again. "Alright! Stretch it out! Justin, Omar — I want to see your passing combo next. Don't disappoint me!"
The two exchanged glances. Justin nodded silently and walked toward midfield. Omar took position near the opponent's line, ready.
The ball was thrown — a soft whoosh cutting through the evening air. Omar leaped and caught it cleanly, landing with effortless grace. His movements were quick and fluid, like he was born to run on that field.
From the sidelines, Mr. Felix's voice roared, "That's it! That's the energy I want to see!"
Behind the faceguard, Omar's lips curved into a proud smile. His chest heaved, sweat glistened, but his eyes were bright with satisfaction. He clapped his teammates on the shoulders one by one — the sound of pads and gloves echoing across the field.
"Good job, guys," he said between breaths.
Several players raised their hands, tapping Omar's helmet in approval.
Then, Omar turned toward the bleachers — and his eyes caught four familiar figures.
"Hey, Justin. Look over there," he said, pointing to the left.
Justin, holding his helmet at his side, turned. A wide smile spread across his face.
On the bleachers sat Laura, Cassidy, Rachel, and Sandra. They were laughing, waving, their hair swaying lightly in the afternoon breeze.
Justin's smile deepened — not the polite kind, but one filled with genuine energy.
"Okay," he murmured under his breath, "now I'm ready for the real game."
Omar chuckled.
-----
"They look fired up," Rachel said, leaning back on the bleachers.
"Especially Justin," Sandra added, her eyes locked on the team's quarterback.
Cassidy nudged Rachel with a sly grin. "Or maybe because someone's out here watching."
All three — Cassidy, Rachel, and Sandra — turned toward Laura at once.
"Oh, come on…" Laura shook her head, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
"I don't mind, you know — if you really like my brother," Cassidy teased again.
"Cass, stop it!" Laura groaned, covering her face with her hands — half embarrassed, half annoyed.
Rachel quickly jumped in to change the topic. "Hey, look over there." She pointed toward the cheerleaders practicing near the field. "They're just as hyped."
Cassidy pouted. "I still wonder what it feels like to jump and dance in those outfits."
"They do look kinda sexy, don't they?" Sandra laughed.
"That's exactly why the players get extra energy when they perform," Rachel replied with a grin.
Cassidy leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Look at their captain."
"Who? Oh—Emma. Yeah, she's gorgeous," Sandra said.
Laura stayed quiet. Her gaze was fixed on Emma, who was giving out instructions to her team.
"You guys know, right? Emma's been obsessed with my brother since freshman year," Cassidy said.
Rachel nodded. "Everybody knows, Cass. Even Laura knows."
Three pairs of eyes turned toward Laura again.
But Laura didn't move. Her stare stayed locked on Emma — who was now smiling and glancing toward the field. Toward Justin.
Laura's fingers curled into a fist at her side. Her breath quickened.
And deep inside, something began to burn.
"Laura!"
A sudden shout — and in the blink of an eye, a football came flying straight toward her face.
Her reflexes kicked in — her hands shot up just in time. The ball stopped inches from her nose.
"Whoa! That was close!" Rachel gasped, clutching her chest.
"You okay, Laura?" Sandra asked quickly.
Laura didn't answer. She just stared at the ball in her hands, her eyes narrowing toward the field.
Justin, realizing what had happened, tore off his helmet and sprinted toward the bleachers, breathless.
"Laura— I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" he said, his voice shaken.
Laura rose slowly, her face flushed — not from pain, but from anger and humiliation.
"Hey, Justin!" her voice rang out sharp. "If you don't like me, you don't have to throw a ball at me to prove it!"
Every head on the field turned. The once-lively air went dead silent.
Justin froze. "Laura, I swear, it was an accident—"
"Oh, don't you dare lie to me!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "Maybe you just wanted to show Emma you're not into me, huh? If this ball had hit my face, you two would probably be celebrating—making out or something, right? You just wanted to humiliate me!"
Omar Felix rushed over, waving his hands. "Hey, Laura, he didn't mean it!"
Laura spun on him, eyes blazing. "Shut up, Omar!"
"What the hell—" Mr. Felix's deep voice cut through the tension from across the field.
Cassidy, Rachel, and Sandra exchanged panicked glances — frozen, unsure what to do.
"Laura, please," Justin begged, his tone soft, desperate. "I didn't mean it."
Laura's eyes darted toward the cheerleaders. Emma stood motionless, wide-eyed, her team whispering behind her.
Laura gritted her teeth, gripping the ball tight.
Then she took a step forward, meeting Justin's gaze — her eyes glassy, but burning with fury.
"Here. Take your damn ball."
She hurled it at his chest — hard. "Go on! Throw it back at me! Till you're satisfied! Then you can go celebrate with Emma — Go f*** her all you want!"
"Okay, that's enough," Cassidy jumped up. "We're leaving. Now."
Rachel and Sandra rushed to Laura's side, grabbing her trembling arms.
"Laura, come on," Sandra whispered, trying to calm her down.
Laura flinched slightly but didn't resist as they pulled her away from the stands.
"Laura, please! I didn't mean it!" Justin called out after her, his voice cracking with desperation.
Cassidy tightened her grip on Laura's wrist, dragging her faster.
"Laura, stop! Please!" Justin shouted again.
"Justin!"
Mr. Felix's commanding voice sliced through the air.
Justin turned, chest heaving.
"What the hell were you thinking, son?" Mr. Felix barked, disappointment heavy in his tone. "Back to the field. Now."
Justin froze. His eyes searched for Laura — already halfway down the bleachers with her friends. His shoulders sagged.
Slowly, he turned back toward the field.
The sky seemed duller now, the wind colder.
He lowered his head, every step heavy — as if his heart had been left behind with her.
From the sidelines, Mr. Felix's gaze followed the four girls leaving the bleachers. His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening.
It wasn't just anger that filled his face — it was worry.
"Laura…" he murmured under his breath.