Clara dashed across the campus, her backpack bouncing against her shoulders like it had a life of its own. The lecture hall doors were already closing, and she froze for a split second, debating whether to try slipping through or admit defeat.
With a gulp of courage, she squeezed past the last few stragglers, muttering a tiny, "sorry" that got lost under the shuffle of papers and footsteps.
The classroom had that faint smell of chalk dust and overused chairs, but Clara barely noticed. All she noticed was the professor's eyes narrowing at her like she'd just committed a crime. "Late again, Ms. Bennett," he said, voice sharp but bored, as if he had done this dance a hundred times before.
Before she could even settle, the dreaded words came: "And for this week, everyone will have assignments, seven due by Friday. No exceptions." Clara's heart sank. Seven assignments? Seven? Not her day. Not today.
She slumped into the closest seat, trying to blend into the beige wall behind her. Her notes were scattered, her pen missing, and she swore she could feel every pair of eyes on her. She made a mental note to apologize later… maybe.
By the time the lecture mercifully ended, Clara's shoulders felt heavier than when she'd arrived. But outside the building, a familiar sight made her heart lift: her friends, the seven who always somehow made life brighter, were waiting.
Emma leaned against the railing, arms crossed but with a smirk that said, "I know you're late, but we forgive you."
Sophie waved shyly, clutching a notebook. Isla bounced slightly on her toes, a ridiculous hat perched at a jaunty angle.
And the boys—Ethan with his calm, unreadable smile, Liam grinning like he had a secret joke, Noah's warm eyes meeting hers, and Alex standing tall, already plotting the first mini-challenge of the day.
Their smiles, their presence, were enough to make her forget the seven assignments, the awkward entrance, even the professor's glare. Clara inhaled, letting the warm breeze carry away the stress.
Clara slowed her steps.
Just a second ago, the weight of seven assignments had been sitting on her shoulders like bricks. Now it felt… lighter. Almost silly.
They were exactly where they always waited — under the old jacanda tree beside the lecture building, like it was some unspoken meeting spot only they knew about.
Emma spotted her first.
"There she is," Emma called, pushing off the railing. "The girl who treats 8 a.m. lectures like optional side quests."
Clara huffed. "It was five minutes late."
"Twenty," Liam corrected cheerfully.
"Traitor," Clara muttered.
"Hopeless," he grinned.
Sophie waved both hands like Clara had just returned from war instead of class. "We saved you a seat at lunch…"
Of course she did. Clara smiled softly.
Isla bounced over next, nearly tripping on her own shoelaces. "Guess what? I found a café that sells pancakes the size of your face. We're going after class. No excuses."
"You say that every week," Ethan said calmly, adjusting the strap of his bag.
"And every week we still go," Alex added with a smirk.
Noah simply stepped closer and handed Clara a cold bottle of water. "You look stressed."
Three words.
And somehow he always noticed.
"Seven assignments," she groaned.
Collective gasps.
"Seven?" Emma said. "Are these professors trying to end us?"
"That's criminal," Isla declared dramatically.
"We should run away," Liam added.
Clara laughed — really laughed this time, the kind that escaped before she could stop it.
God.
She missed this.
No — she never stopped having it.
But something about this moment felt… familiar.
Like déjà vu.
Standing in a loose circle. Teasing each other. Complaining about school. Sharing snacks. Waiting for everyone before moving.
Her chest tightened, warm and soft.
For a split second, the campus blurred.
And the past slipped in.
Suddenly it wasn't concrete paths and tall lecture halls.
It was sunlight flooding the old high school courtyard.
It was wrinkled uniforms and noisy corridors.
It was Liam running down the hallway because he was late — again — with Emma chasing him while yelling about unfinished homework.
It was Sophie sharing homemade cookies during lunch.
Isla convincing everyone to skip studying just to watch the sunset from the bleachers.
Alex dragging them to "just one quick practice" that turned into two hours.
Noah quietly saving seats for everyone like he always did.
And Ethan… sitting beside her under the window, sliding half his notes toward her because she'd forgotten hers.
Like always.
Like he never minded.
Back then everything felt smaller.
Tests felt bigger. Crushes felt scarier. Laughter felt louder.
But life felt… simpler.
No career pressure.
No "future plans."
No terrifying word called adulthood.
Just:
"What did you get for number three?"
"Who do you like?"
"Run, the teacher's coming!"
"Wait for me!"
Clara blinked.
The memory faded like chalk washed away by rain.
She was back on campus.
Back to now.
But the feeling stayed.
Ah…
She watched her friends bicker about where to eat, Liam dramatically accusing Emma of dictatorship while Isla tried to climb Alex's back for no reason.
Sophie was laughing quietly.
Noah was smiling.
Ethan glanced at her — just for a second — like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
And Clara tucked her hands into her sleeves, heart warm.
Ah yes…
Back to when we were younger.
Maybe they weren't in high school anymore.
Maybe things were harder now.
But somehow…
As long as they were together like this…
It didn't feel like they'd grown up at all.
"Oi, Bennett!" Emma called. "Stop zoning out and move. Pancakes aren't going to eat themselves."
Clara grinned and jogged toward them.
"Coming!"
And just like that, surrounded by laughter and noise and the seven people who felt like home—
My bad day didn't stand a chance.
"Isla, what are you doing?", I said in between my laughter
"Tryna climb Alex's back and he doesn't seem to be complaining", she said it like it was the most normal thing in the world
"I am complaining," Alex muttered, though his hands reached back automatically to hold her legs so she wouldn't slip. "You just don't listen."
"I choose not to," Isla said brightly.
She hoisted herself higher, nearly knocking his bag sideways. Alex staggered a step, sneakers scraping against the pavement.
"Careful," Sophie said softly, half worried, half amused. "You're going to fall."
"We're fine," Isla replied.
They were clearly not fine.
Alex tried taking another step and immediately tilted to the side.
"Wait— hold on—"
Noah moved first, steady and quick, grabbing Isla's arm before she toppled over. Alex caught the railing with one hand and exhaled sharply.
For a second everyone froze.
Then Liam snickered.
And that was it — we all burst out laughing again.
Not loud enough to cause a scene, just the kind of laughter you can't hold back because everything feels stupid and light and easy.
Alex straightened up, brushing dust off his sleeve. "Next time, warn me before you attack."
"Where's the fun in that?" Isla said.
Emma shook her head. "You two are exhausting to watch."
"But you'd miss us," Isla said.
Emma didn't answer, but the small smile on her face gave her away.
The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees above us, casting soft shadows across the walkway. Students passed by in small groups, some glancing at us curiously, probably wondering why eight grown college students were acting like middle schoolers.
I didn't even care.
It felt nice.
Normal.
Familiar.
Ethan stepped beside me quietly. "How bad was class?"
I sighed. "Seven assignments."
He paused mid-step. "Seven?"
"Seven."
"That should be illegal."
"Exactly what I thought."
"I feel for you sweetheart"
"Sweetheart?" My heart did a little dance at that sentence. The tip of my ears red hidden under my hair
"Aren't you a sweetheart?" He asked so innocently I couldn't guess if he were up to something or being genuine
"Ummm..."
My brain completely short-circuited.
"I— that's not— you can't just call people that out of nowhere," I muttered, staring very hard at the pavement like it had suddenly become fascinating.
Ethan tilted his head slightly. "Call you what?"
"That."
"What?"
"…Sweetheart."
"Oh." His lips twitched. "That?"
"Yes, that."
"I didn't know it was illegal."
"It's suspicious," I said quickly. "Very suspicious behavior."
He gave me that quiet, almost invisible smile of his. "You're overthinking it."
"I am not."
"You are."
"I'm just saying," I crossed my arms, "people don't randomly go around calling others sweetheart."
"Maybe I do."
"That's worse."
He chuckled softly under his breath.
Not loud. Just enough for me to hear.
It somehow made it worse.
"You always look like the world personally offended you after lectures," he added. "So… sweetheart felt appropriate."
"It feels inappropriate calling just anyone sweetheart."
"But you aren't just anyone." He said in a deep but seductive voice. What am I thinking? Get yourself together
I groaned. "You're impossible."
"Oh really, says the person who said calling someone sweetheart is inappropriate." Then he leaned down to my ear and whispered, "We aren't do anything intimate are we?"
I shot him a look my face as red as a tomato. "Ethan! You dare call me dirty minded?" Then did I realize how close our faces were so close I noticed how handsome he was. Oh my gosh I'm staring. Look away. I quickly looked at the pavement suddenly finding it intriguing. Gosh this is so embarrassing.
"Don't be shy" He said in such a gentle and cute tone, my heart could just melt.
"I-Im not"
"You're stuttering"
You're impossible" I roll my eyes at him, then I heard a snicker
"Did you just laugh at me?" I asked in a dramatic tone
"What if I did?"
For a few steps, we just walked side by side.
Our shoulders brushed once.
Then again.
Neither of us moved away.
He adjusted the strap of my bag without saying anything, like he noticed it slipping before I did. His fingers barely touched my shoulder, but it sent a strange warmth up my neck.
"You'll finish them," he said casually. "You always do."
"You sound very confident."
"You're Clara. You complain first, panic second, then somehow get the highest score."
"That's not true."
"It's literally your life cycle."
"…Okay maybe a little true."
"Told you."
Liam suddenly popped up between us like a jump scare. "Why are you two walking so slow? Are we having a secret meeting? Is this romance? Should I leave?"
"Go away," I said immediately.
"Rude."
Ethan calmly pushed him aside with one hand. "Personal space."
Liam gasped clutching his chest dramaticall. "Wow. Violence. I'm telling Emma."
"Please do," Ethan said.
Liam squinted at us suspiciously before jogging ahead. "I'm watching you both."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
"He's so annoying," I muttered.
"He's observant," Ethan corrected.
"That's worse."
He smiled again.
That small one.
The one he only did when he was trying not to laugh.
And for some reason, my chest felt lighter.
The assignments didn't seem so scary anymore.
Not when he was walking beside me like this.
Not when everyone else was just a few steps ahead, arguing about pancakes like it was life or death.
Normal.
Warm.
Familiar.
"Hey, Clara," Ethan said quietly.
"Hmm?"
"Don't stress too much, okay?"
"…I'll try."
"If it gets bad, we'll do them together."
Together.
Such a simple word.
"Yeah," I said, smiling before I could stop myself. "Okay."
Ahead of us, Isla suddenly shouted, "LAST ONE TO THE CAFÉ PAYS FOR EVERYONE!"
"HEY— THAT WASN'T THE DEAL—" Alex yelled.
And just like that, everyone broke into a run.
Ethan looked at me.
I looked at him.
"Run?" he asked.
"Run."
We took off after them, laughing.