𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (EDITING)

𝟑𝟐

emerson

"We're going to Paris!" Andrew's excitement filled the air as he jumped up and down, his enthusiasm infectious. I couldn't help but laugh and nod along with his excitement. "Yeah, we're going to Paris," I affirmed, leaning against the side of the bus.

We stood outside the school, waiting for the rest of the students to join us. Our group consisted of Andrew, Avery, and myself. Despite the shared anticipation for the trip, there was an unspoken tension lingering in the air, especially between Avery and me. I could feel it, a palpable discomfort hovering between us.

I made a conscious effort not to turn towards her or meet her gaze. Acknowledging her presence might trigger unwanted thoughts and emotions, and I didn't want to let those intrusive thoughts take over. Not now, not when we were about to embark on an exciting trip to Paris. I kept my focus elsewhere, determined not to let any awkwardness or unresolved feelings overshadow the upcoming experience.

Andrew clutched his bag tightly as we stood in front of his house. "I'm so happy you're here," he mumbled, looking at me with a mix of relief and excitement. I could tell he was nervous about something. "I couldn't imagine if you weren't," he added, his voice trailing off.

I smiled at him warmly, trying to ease his tension. "I'm happy to be here," I said truthfully, "We come back home on Friday, on your birthday!" Andrew exclaimed suddenly, his eyes lighting up. I couldn't help but share in his excitement. "Oh yeah, you're coming right?" I asked, turning to look at him. Andrew nodded his head rapidly

Avery, hummed in response, her voice barely audible. Andrew rolled his eyes at her lackluster answer, clearly disappointed. But I didn't mind.

"Okay, everyone stay in your groups! Board the coach calmly; it's not a race," the teacher's voice boomed across the area. Thankfully, my group happened to be at the front of the line, allowing us to secure the back seats of the coach. With a sigh, I slung my bag over my shoulder, accidentally brushing against Avery in the process.

"Ouch," her voice sounded in pain. I turned around abruptly, feeling a pang of guilt. "Sorry," I blurted out, immediately regretting the inadvertent collision. She removed her hand from her nose and glanced up at me, "It's fine," she muttered softly.

Our eyes met for a brief moment, and in that instant, I saw a flicker of confusion flash through her eyes. There was something else, a hint of hope, a message conveyed through that silent exchange. Feeling overwhelmed, I quickly turned away and hurried up the stairs to the coach, Andrew just ahead of me.

I let out a sigh. "Why are there only three seats at the back?" I queried, trying to figure out the seating arrangement. "So we can put our stuff on the sides," Avery replied, her tone a touch dismissive. Rolling my eyes, I settled into the middle seat, with Andrew on my left and Avery on my right.

"See?" Avery placed her bag on the side of the chair, using the open space. I shot a quick glare at the space before turning to Andrew, still avoiding meeting Avery's eyes. I silently cursed myself for even apologizing earlier.

"Have you ever been to Paris?" Andrew initiated, attempting to break the building tension. "Never. Is it good?" I muttered, trying to sound indifferent. "You're asking me like I've been," Andrew chuckled lightly. Confused, I furrowed my brows. "You've never been?" I asked in surprise.

"Nope, it's my first time too," Andrew admitted with a grin. I couldn't help but smile. "How fun," I mumbled, trying to keep the conversation light despite the underlying unease in the air.