The next morning, Angel woke up at 7 a.m. with a fluttering excitement she could hardly contain. Today felt different. Today, she was going to see him again—David Sinclair.
She jumped out of bed, grabbed her towel, and headed to the bathroom. The hot water was refreshing, waking her fully. After dressing neatly, she went downstairs for breakfast, her mind replaying yesterday's discoveries over and over.
The school bus arrived on time, and Angel joined her friends. Inside, the usual chatter filled the air. Most students were glued to their phones, some scrolling endlessly, others chatting casually. Sarah and Anna discussed clothes, parties, and weekend plans. Peace hummed softly, singing her favorite tunes, while Elena watched reels on her phone.
Angel, however, kept her head bent over a book, though her heart wasn't really in it. She couldn't stop thinking about David. No one knew the joy she felt inside, the secret happiness she carried just for herself.
When they reached their destination safely, a small thrill ran through her. Today, she would see David again.
Downstairs, sitting quietly with her friends, she finally saw him. David was chatting with his friends a short distance away. Angel stole a glance at Sarah, who caught her eye and smiled faintly, a hint of blush on her cheeks.
Then David left the group he had been talking to and approached another friend standing close to where Angel was sitting. She noticed how hesitant he seemed, almost as if he were contemplating something. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched him finally sit down, his heartbeat almost visible in the way he moved.
After a couple of minutes, he stood up and left to rejoin his other friends. Angel felt a strange mix of disappointment and relief—relief that he was safe and happy, disappointment that the moment had passed so quickly.
Later that day, upstairs, Angel recounted the encounter to Sarah. "He… he sat there for a bit," Angel said, her voice calm but her cheeks warm.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't he looking at you like… you know, admiringly?" she teased, obvious jealousy in her tone.
Angel shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "I know Sarah too well. You would think otherwise if you didn't know him."
Their conversation ended with soft laughter, and they turned their attention back to the hall. To their surprise, David and several others were arguing seriously about a game they had watched yesterday. Voices rose, hands gestured, and for a moment, it seemed almost chaotic.
Before long, the others kicked David out of the group, right to where Angel and Sarah were standing on the balcony. Sarah gasped in shock at the scene. Angel's eyes met David's. He didn't notice them—or maybe he did—but he kept his focus, instructing the others to open the door.
Angel nudged Sarah. "I'm going downstairs," she whispered. Sarah nodded and followed, curious and cautious.
They watched as David descended the stairs, only to stop midway. He shook his head, then returned to the door before the others allowed him back inside the hall. Angel's heart thumped wildly. The small glimpses, the hesitations, the little moments—every piece made her feel more alive, more aware of him than ever.