𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 & 𝐂𝐥𝐲𝐝𝐞

The Spark

Maya sat in the library, her notebook open in front of her, but her mind kept drifting away from the words on the page. She twirled her pen between her fingers, glancing up every few seconds, waiting for Bryson to arrive. Their project was nearing completion, and she felt a mix of satisfaction and something else—something unfamiliar that had been growing since their first study session.

It wasn't just the project that occupied her thoughts. It was Bryson. Each time they met, he surprised her. He wasn't the person she'd first imagined—a loud, reckless boy who didn't care about school. He was insightful, quick-witted, and, when he let his guard down, capable of deep, thoughtful conversations that left her questioning her own views. He had become someone she looked forward to seeing, someone who challenged her in ways she hadn't expected.

When Bryson finally appeared, sliding into the chair across from her, he flashed his usual grin. "Hey, Maya. Sorry I'm late. You ready to knock this thing out?"

Maya smiled back, her earlier thoughts dissolving as she focused on the task at hand. "Yeah, I think we're almost there. We just need to refine our final argument and make sure our examples are strong."

Bryson nodded, leaning forward to grab his notes. "Cool. I've been thinking about that last point we were discussing—about how the American Dream isn't just about wealth, but about identity and belonging. I think we should tie that into Gatsby's obsession with Daisy. It's not just about wanting her; it's about what she represents to him."

Maya blinked, taken aback by the depth of his analysis. "That's... actually a really good point. Gatsby's pursuit of Daisy is more than just love—it's about trying to reclaim something that's lost, something he can never truly have."

"Exactly," Bryson said, his voice gaining momentum as he spoke. "He thinks that if he gets Daisy, he'll be able to rewrite his past and finally fit into the world he's always wanted to be a part of. But the truth is, that world's never gonna accept him, and he's never gonna be satisfied because what he's chasin' doesn't really exist. It's just an illusion."

Maya nodded slowly, absorbing his words. She had spent hours analyzing the text, but Bryson's take on it was fresh, offering a perspective she hadn't fully considered. It made her see the novel—and Bryson—in a new light.

"You know," she said after a moment, "you really have a knack for this. Have you ever thought about doing something with literature? Like, maybe studying it in college?"

Bryson shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I dunno. Never really thought about it. School's just... somethin' I do to get by. I never figured there was anything in it for me."

Maya frowned, trying to imagine what it would be like to go through school feeling like it was just a burden. "But you're good at it, Bryson. I mean, look at what you just said about Gatsby. Not everyone can pull out that kind of insight."

He laughed, though there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Yeah, well, it ain't exactly somethin' that gets you far around here. People don't care about books and ideas when they're just tryin' to survive."

Maya's heart ached at the resignation in his tone. She knew he was right—their neighborhood wasn't a place that encouraged dreams or intellectual pursuits. But she also knew that Bryson was more than his circumstances, more than the rough exterior he projected.

"You don't have to stay here, Bryson," she said quietly. "You could go to college, get out, and do something with your life. You're smart enough. You just need to believe it."

Bryson's eyes met hers, and for a moment, the usual bravado faded, leaving behind a vulnerability that took her breath away. "I don't know, Maya. Sometimes it feels like this is all there is, like no matter how hard I try, I'm always gonna be stuck in the same place."