Just a Matter of Time

Elisha

12 years ago

"Class, as we near graduation, I want you all to think about where you see yourself five years from now," the teacher called out, and the sound of shuffling papers followed.

I smirked, already knowing what I wanted to write. Five years? Easy. I leaned over my paper and started scribbling my goals, half-smiling to myself. Big career, big moves—everything mapped out.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of eyes on me. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Amara leaning over, trying to sneak a look at my paper. I grinned to myself and slid my arm over my writing, blocking her view.

"Hey, what's that?" she whispered, poking me lightly with her pen.

"Nothing for you to see," I teased, shifting the paper even further from her reach.

"Oh, come on, Elijah! Let me see." She leaned in more, her voice playful but persistent.

"Nah, you've got your own future to plan, Amara," I chuckled, shaking my head and shielding the page with my arm. "Can't have you stealing my brilliant ideas."

She huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips. "You act like you're writing the next great novel or something. What are you even putting down, 'Elijah saves the world'?"

"Maybe," I shrugged with a smirk. "Or maybe I'm writing about where I see you in five years."

Her eyes widened, a hint of curiosity and something else flashing in them. "Oh really? And where's that?"

"Not telling," I said, grinning as I turned my paper even further away, making her groan dramatically.

"You are impossible," she muttered, shaking her head, but I noticed her smile. Yeah, maybe she had no idea just how much of this future I wanted her in.

Amara leaned in even closer, her eyes narrowing with that mischievous spark I knew all too well. "Come on, Elijah, just one little peek," she whispered, her fingers practically grazing the corner of my paper.

I shifted my arm, blocking the page completely, my heart pounding. "Nope. You're not seeing anything," I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice cracked just enough for her to notice.

Her grin widened. "Why are you so annal? What's in there that you don't want me to see? A love letter?"

"Pfft, no," I shot back way too quickly, clutching the paper tighter. "I'm just protecting my intellectual property."

She laughed, but I could see the gears turning in her head as she stretched her neck, trying to catch a glimpse. Her hand reached out, almost playful, but I knew she was serious about wanting a look. "You're terrible at hiding stuff. It's probably some lame five-year plan where you still live in your mom's basement."

Just as she leaned in closer, almost getting a peek, I yanked the paper off the desk completely, holding it up to my chest like a shield.

"Hey!" she protested with a laugh, crossing her arms. "What's the big deal?"

Kim's smirk lingered as she slid out of her seat, strolling casually over to where Amara was still eyeing me with suspicion. "Alright, alright," she said, stepping between us with a dramatic sigh. "Leave poor Elijah alone. You'll break him if you keep pushing."

Amara rolled her eyes, but the teasing smile stayed on her face. "I just wanted a tiny peek. He's acting like he's hiding national secrets or something."

"Maybe he is," Kim said, before plopping down on the edge of Amara's desk. "But speaking of secrets, did you finish your letter?"

Amara blinked, her eyes widening as she glanced down at her blank paper. "Oh my God." She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I haven't written a single word."

I let out a small breath of relief as Kim smoothly distracted her. Kim always had a way of diffusing things right before they got dangerous. She shot me another sly look before turning her attention fully to Amara, who was now staring at her paper like it was her sworn enemy.

"You've seriously done nothing?" Kim asked, her tone full of mock shock. "Wow. And here I thought you had your whole future figured out."

Amara grumbled, grabbing her pen and fiddling with it. "I was going to write something, but someone"—she shot me a pointed glance—"was acting all weird and secretive, and now my brain's gone blank."

Kim laughed and nudged her. "Well, I finished mine ages ago, and trust me, it's nothing special. Just write what comes to mind. You've got five years to figure the rest out."

Amara gave her a half-hearted smile. "Easy for you to say. You probably wrote about traveling the world or becoming a CEO or something."

Kim shrugged, her eyes twinkling. "Close enough. But seriously, just write something. Otherwise, you'll be stuck here until graduation."

Amara huffed and finally started jotting down a few words, her focus shifting back to the paper. I took the moment to relax, grateful for Kim's quick intervention. But I didn't miss the amused look she threw my way, clearly enjoying the chaos she'd just saved me from.

As Kim kept chatting away, I shifted my focus back to the letter in my hands. The words blurred for a second, and I took a slow breath, glancing over at Amara. She was laughing at something Kim had said, her smile bright and carefree. It made my chest tighten in a way I couldn't quite explain.

I looked back down at the letter, my fingers tracing over the lines I'd written. Every word was filled with feelings I hadn't dared say out loud—feelings that had only grown stronger over the years. I swallowed hard, reading the last part again: "In five years, I see myself happy... with Amara after finally revealing my feelings."

It sounded so simple, so honest. But seeing it written out like that felt strange, like I'd laid bare something I wasn't sure I could handle. I glanced at Amara again, watching as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of curl around her finger, her attention still fully on Kim.

She had no idea. Not a clue what I was holding in this letter. The future I imagined with her—the one I wanted but couldn't bring myself to say. I shook my head, trying to focus, but the words felt heavier now.

I sighed quietly, folding the letter and slipping it into my jacket. She was too happy right now, too caught in her own little world to notice me.

In five years, I thought. In five years I will tell her.