𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 4: "𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒔"

୨୧
France, Paris
ISP
O.T.M.
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It’s Monday morning. Assembly day. I hate assembly. It’s the same boring speech every time, some variation of "You need to focus, this is an important year," blah blah blah. The whole thing is pointless. If anything, it just reminds us how tired we all are from trying to live up to their expectations. And honestly, I haven’t had more than a couple of hours of sleep in the past two days. Studying, exams, trying to keep my head above water—it’s all starting to blur together.

I’m slouched in my seat, barely keeping my eyes open, when I feel a gentle nudge on my side. It’s Lauren, my best friend. She’s sitting next to me, her arm slung casually over the back of my chair, her face lit up in that mischievous smile she always has when she’s about to say something ridiculous.

"You look like you’ve been hit by a bus," she teases, her voice soft enough that only I can hear. "Not a cute bus either. Like, one of those old, rusty ones."

I groan and lean against her shoulder, too exhausted to come up with a comeback. "I haven’t slept," I mumble, letting my head rest on her. "This matric year is killing me."

Lauren laughs lightly, the sound comforting, as she absentmindedly strokes my hair. "I missed you, though. You’ve been MIA for days."

"Missed you too," I reply, closing my eyes and letting her presence soothe me. "I swear, if I hear one more thing about ‘focusing’ and ‘hard work,’ I’m going to throw something."

We share a giggle as the assembly drags on, our whispered gossip and quiet laughter keeping me somewhat awake. Lauren is great at making everything better. Even when I’m on the verge of losing it, she finds a way to pull me back. She’s talking about how one of the boys from our grade wore two different shoes to school, and honestly, it’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week.

As much as I hate this part of the day, having Lauren next to me makes it bearable. She’s my rock, and I don’t know what I’d do without her.

But then it happens. The principal wraps up his speech and announces that Mrs. Carter is going to say a few words. Instantly, I sit up straight, my fatigue forgotten. It’s like a switch flips inside me. My heart starts pounding a little faster, and I can feel a flush creeping up my neck.

There she is, walking up to the podium, looking as flawless as ever. Today, she’s wearing a grey tailored pantsuit that fits her body like a glove. The vest blazer hugs her waist, emphasizing her hourglass figure, while the white button-up shirt underneath gives her a crisp, professional look. Her long blonde hair is straight today, falling perfectly down her back, and her black heels click softly against the floor as she steps up to speak.

But it’s her eyes that get me every time. Those green eyes, accentuated by the thin line of black eyeliner she always wears. It makes the green in her eyes pop, more vivid than ever, like two emeralds glinting under the light. God, she looks incredible.

I barely register what she’s saying at first—I’m too busy staring at her, drinking her in. The way she holds herself, so confident and graceful, yet approachable at the same time. Her voice is smooth, commanding attention but with a softness that makes everyone want to listen. She’s speaking about something important, I think, but all I can focus on is the way her lips move, the slight curve of her smile when she emphasizes a point.

"—as I mentioned to your parents, the mathematics learners will be going on a trip to a math camp," she’s saying, her voice echoing through the hall. My ears finally tune in, and I sit up even straighter. A trip? Overnight? Did I hear that right?