what happens after sunset | ✓

five

⋆  s u r p r i s e   s m i l e s   &   h e a r t - t o - h e a r t s   ⋆

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metanoia (n.)
the journey of changing one's mind,
heart, self, or way of life

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THE PEACE OF the next morning is disrupted by the loud beeping of my alarm, slicing through the silence. I slam my hand down on it, trying to soak in the last seconds of the birds chirping outside and the cool wind through my open window. I drag myself to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, running a brush through my hair, but pausing when I reach for my drawer of random t-shirts.

I opt for a knee length, burnt-red overall dress over a white tee for today, unsure of why I feel like changing things up.

No I'm not. I know exactly why.

After putting on my usual glasses and slipping into some white, high top sneakers, I make my way downstairs. My mom's cheerful azure eyes are dancing when I greet her, so I patiently wait for her to tell me why. She hands me a plate of hot pancakes, a sign of her excitement.

"Darling, you would have loved the meteor shower we saw last night," she sighs wistfully, eyes clouded with memories, "it was gorgeous."

I smile at her as she hums to herself, glad that she still finds so much happiness in the night sky.

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The day speeds by, as usual, until lunch. Nora is trailed by an unfamiliar face as she approaches our table. The girl behind her has sleek strands of black hair framing her almond-shaped face. Her nose ring glints in the harsh lighting in the cafeteria, the all-black ensemble she wears attracting stares.

"This is Miho," Nora introduces nervously, "she had no one to sit with since she just transferred today, so I said she could sit with us." I look Miho over, and while confidence radiates from her in waves, I can see in her russet eyes that she doesn't fit in. I immediately beckon her over, smiling.

After all, I would know all about not fitting in.

We surprisingly get along well, the three of us misfits clicking together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I glance around the lunch room, finally understanding how all these groups of friends feel when they're together.

Golden-hued happiness touches the edges of my vision, paired with a startling flash of surprise that quickly fades into copper-toned warmth when I catch a pair of bright green eyes staring at me across the lunchroom.

I smile softly at him before turning back to Miho and Nora, getting swept up into their conversation like a shell into the ocean tide.

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     I am surprised to see Jordan already in his seat before the bell rings, leaning against the windowsill, looking as devastatingly handsome as ever.

"Sorry about last night, Bumble," he says, his deep voice sweeping over me.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Jordan," I say, and his eyes widen momentarily before he shrugs.