Dear Elites: A Tale of Love and Contrasts

🦋chapter 4🦋

#3rd person

Reyah swept through the corridors like a warm summer breeze, her laughter cascading over the clusters of students that dotted the halls. With her sun-kissed skin aglow and hair that rippled with shades of midnight, she turned heads as easily as the pages of an eagerly read novel.

"Hey, Marcus! Don't forget, study group at my place, we're conquering calculus whether it likes it or not," Reyah called out, winking at a lanky boy with a stack of books teetering in his arms.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Reyah," he replied, his voice tinged with gratitude. She flashed a brilliant smile, one that promised camaraderie and a refusal to let any of her friends falter academically.

Amela watched from her locker, the cool metal against her back grounding her in the sea of affluence that still seemed surreal. She fidgeted with the combination lock, feeling the weight of her own hesitation. The sight of Zade in the distance, tossing a football back and forth with practiced ease, sent a pang of uncertainty through her chest.

"Hey, pass it here, Edris!" someone shouted, and Zade executed a perfect spiral that whistled through the air. Amela's heart fluttered uneasily; Zade caught the ball without so much as a glance in her direction.

"Go talk to him, Amela," she muttered to herself, but her feet remained rooted. Her thoughts twisted into knots as tangled as her long brown locks.

Zade's gaze suddenly cut across the hall, steel-gray eyes locking onto hers for a fleeting moment before he looked away, expression unreadable. Amela's breath hitched, her pulse racing with a mix of excitement and dread. Why did he always seem so distant? So impenetrable?

"Are you going to stare all day, or are you actually going to do something about it?" Reyah's voice, rich with confidence, broke through Amela's reverie.

"Reyah, I..." Amela stammered, her resolve melting under the intensity of those piercing gray eyes that now paid attention to anything but her.

"Come on, don't be shy. Zade might look like he's got ice running through his veins, but he doesn't bite. Much," Reyah teased, nudging Amela with a knowing smirk.

"Easy for you to say," Amela said, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the frustration coiling inside her. "You're not the one trying to—"

"Trying to what?" Reyah prompted, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Nothing. It's silly," Amela sighed, turning her attention back to her locker, the numbers blurring before her eyes.

"Hey," Reyah's voice softened, and she placed a gentle hand on Amela's shoulder. "Whatever it is, you've got this. And hey, you've got me too."

"Thanks, Reyah," Amela whispered, drawing strength from the sincerity in Reyah's gaze—a gaze that held none of Zade's cold dismissal, only warmth and acceptance.

"Anytime," Reyah winked. "Now, how about we grab some lunch? My treat. And later, we can strategize your next move with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody."

"Sounds like a plan," Amela agreed, the corners of her mouth curving upward. As they walked side by side toward the cafeteria, Amela felt a spark of hope ignite within her. With Reyah by her side, perhaps unlocking the enigma that was Zade Edris wasn't entirely impossible.

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The clink of silverware and the buzz of a hundred conversations filled the school's ornate dining hall, but Amela only half heard them. She picked at her food, lost in thought, her gaze inadvertently drifting to Zade's table where laughter seemed to ripple like an exclusive currency.