If Only (GxG)

Chapter 2 Friends

A/N
🎶 Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles🎶

『 °*• ❀ •*°』
Alison's POV

The next morning, sunlight streams through the clouds as I ride to school, a grin plastered across my face since I kickstarted the bike. With my earbuds tucked under my helmet, The Beatles play softly, their lyrics settling into my thoughts like old friends.

Something about the ride feels almost poetic—the freedom of the open road, the hum of the engine beneath me. It's the kind of moment that makes me wonder if this is what happiness really is: small, fleeting pockets of peace.

Pulling into the school car park, I park the bike, swing my leg off, and remove my helmet, shaking out my hair. I'm struck again by how much simpler life feels without that dreadful, claustrophobic bus commute.

Twenty extra minutes saved, and it feels like I've stolen back a little control over my day. I walk toward the school building, my mind wandering to how long it will take me to perfect tight cornering on the bike.

Spotting Amy and Ross ahead, I smirk and silently approach. I leap onto Ross's back without warning.

"AGGHH!" he yells, stumbling forward under my weight. His lanky six-foot frame buckles slightly, while Amy clutches her chest, laughing.

"Jesus, Alison, you scared me! All that running has turned you into some kind of stealth ninja!"

I grin and dangle my keys in front of Ross's face. "Mommy got a new ride, babies, and it's sweettt," I sing, relishing their reactions.

"No way! What kind of car is it?" Ross exclaims, his face lighting up.

Sliding off his back, I step into stride beside them. "Not a car," I say dreamily. "It's a black Honda motorbike."

"Biker chick—that's hot," Amy quips, raising an eyebrow.

Ross gasps theatrically. "Can I borrow it to impress girls?"

Feigning a moment of deep contemplation, I reply, "Yes, dear Ross, but you may not drive it. We'll strategically park it somewhere for you to stand next to, looking handsome and dashing."

He tips his head back, laughing, while Amy shakes her head at us.

We make our way to the biology lab, settling into seats at one of the long benches that run the length of the room. The lesson moves quickly—a small mercy since biology is far from my favorite subject. I try to focus, but my mind drifts, as it often does, to bigger questions: What makes one day feel so drastically different from another? How much of that is in my control?

After biology, we part ways with Ross, and Amy and I head to English. Sliding into our usual seats at the back, I feel a flicker of curiosity remembering that we'll be meeting Ms. Blake today, the new teacher.

Just as I settle in, a crumpled paper ball bounces off my head. My shoulders tense before I exhale slowly, refusing to give Gregory the satisfaction of a reaction. I glance up to see him two rows ahead, grinning mischievously and wiggling his eyebrows. He quickly feigns an innocent expression, but the smirk playing on his lips gives him away.

Amy, deep in conversation with a girl from her football team, doesn't notice. Ignoring Gregory, I slip my earbuds into my bag and take out my notes, skimming through the Shakespeare quotes I need to memorize. As I read, I let my thoughts drift—trying to make connections between the characters' motivations and real life. Shakespeare always stirs something in me, a reminder of how little people really change, no matter how much time passes.