Sixteen-year-old Yasmine Emori Sanders was getting ready to start at a new high school. She recently moved in with her sister Charlie after her mother's death. The death ultimately took a toll on her. She didn't eat or sleep for weeks. Her mother wa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Next Day.....
Yasmine woke up with an unusual brightness, a mix of anticipation and relief knowing that she'd be picking her sister up from the hospital later. But once she got to school, her emotions began to collide—she wasn't only thinking about her sister; she was replaying the night with Noah. When Ms. Johnson announced they'd be working on their projects, Yasmine's heart skipped as she glanced over at Noah, already looking her way. His eyes met hers with a hint of something mischievous before he casually slid into the seat next to her.
"Ready to work, Smiley?" he asked, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Yasmine's cheeks warmed slightly. "Don't call me that," she muttered, rolling her eyes with a half-smile, but inside, her stomach fluttered.
"Oh, come on," he chuckled. "You know you like it." His gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, making her pulse quicken.
They dove into the project, leaning close as they shared books and notes, their shoulders brushing. At one point, as Yasmine reached for a paper, her fingers brushed against his, and neither of them pulled away right away. Instead, her eyes flicked up to meet his. For a heartbeat, they just looked at each other, the air between them growing charged, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Maybe we should keep working on this later?" he asked, voice low.
"Sure," Yasmine replied softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "You can come by my place, but I have to pick up my sister first."
The day passed in a blur, and before she knew it, she was waiting for Noah to arrive at her house. The nerves returned, and she found herself checking her reflection in her bedroom mirror. Soon enough, he knocked on her door, and within minutes, they were settled in her room, surrounded by notebooks, textbooks, and her laptop.
"Not bad, Smiley," Noah teased as he took in her space, giving her that grin that made her heart race just a little faster.
They focused on the project, but it didn't take long before their attention wavered. A small joke here, a lingering touch there—soon, every shared laugh felt like a spark. Yasmine leaned over to point something out on a page, and her hand brushed his again. This time, they both paused, letting their fingers linger in quiet acknowledgment.
She looked up, their eyes locking, and for a long moment, it felt like the whole world had quieted around them. He was so close she could see the flecks of color in his eyes, his faint smile as he held her gaze, her own heartbeat drumming in her ears.
Then her phone buzzed with an alarm. Yasmine's eyes widened as she saw the time. "Oh—I have to go pick up my sister!" She pulled away quickly, gathering her things, breaking the spell. Noah leaned back, watching her with that amused look still lingering.
"Alright, don't keep her waiting," he murmured, his voice soft, his eyes lingering on her a little too long.
She headed out, heart racing from the moment they'd just shared, barely able to shake it off by the time she arrived at the hospital. But when her sister slid into the passenger seat, Yasmine's heart sank—the warmth she'd hoped for wasn't there. Her sister's answers were curt, her gaze focused out the window, and any attempts Yasmine made to connect were met with silence.
Once home, Yasmine did her best to help her sister settle in, but the distance between them felt almost painful. Alone in her room later, Yasmine let out a long breath, thinking back to the day's emotions—how Noah made her feel, her sister's coldness, and the mounting confusion inside her. She took a hot shower, letting the water run over her face, but it couldn't wash away the lingering ache.
Finally, she lay in bed, curling under the covers, replaying the spark she'd felt with Noah and the hollow feeling with her sister. She lay in the dark, silent tears slipping down her cheeks, her heart tangled in feelings she couldn't quite unravel yet.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A Few Days Later...
Days passed slowly, blurring together as Yasmine isolated herself in her room, wrapped in the shadows of her thoughts. She hadn't been back to school since bringing her sister home from the hospital. There was something unsettling in her sister's silence—a coldness that gnawed at her more than any words could. Every time Yasmine tried to reach out, her sister pulled further away, leaving Yasmine feeling helpless and even more alone.
Soreia's texts piled up, each one sounding more worried than the last. She even called a few times, but Yasmine couldn't bring herself to answer. What would she even say? And then there was Noah. His messages started out friendly enough, checking in and asking about her sister, but as she continued to ignore him, his texts took on a sharper edge. At first, he was understanding, but then he started getting frustrated, demanding to know what was going on. Yasmine read his messages, but they only seemed to remind her of how messy things had gotten between them.
On Saturday morning, Yasmine lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her room dark despite the morning sun filtering through her curtains. She could feel the weight of everything pressing down on her: her sister's distance, her own complicated feelings for Noah, the guilt gnawing at her for shutting everyone out. She felt like she was drowning in her own emotions, unable to find her way back to the surface.
Just then, her phone buzzed on her nightstand. She rolled over, barely glancing at the screen, expecting another text from Soreia or maybe even Noah. But instead, it was a different message:
"Hey Smiley. I'm outside. Let's get some air, alright?"
She hesitated, staring at the message, feeling a twinge of something familiar and warm. Yasmine almost replied with another excuse, but something stopped her. Maybe it was the way he still called her Smiley, a simple nickname that somehow felt like a lifeline.
After a moment, she climbed out of bed, threw on a sweatshirt, and slipped quietly out of the house.
I've been having REALLY BADDDD writer's block but... how are we feeling? Any thoughts or predictions??
