"Please go out with me."
By the third confession that week, Mia Rowan already knew how the moment would unfold. She saw the careful approach, the strained courage, and the part where she had to let someone down without making him feel small for trying.
It still wasn't easy. Doing it over and over just made it sting less, but it never really got any gentler.
She stood in the shade beside a courtyard building. Class 2-A's report envelope was pressed to her chest. One of the senior guys in front of her tried and failed to look calm. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a St. Aurelius blazer fitting neatly over a frame that had finished growing ahead of schedule. He looked painfully sincere.
Familiar, too.
It took her a second.
The cafeteria.
A while back, Mia had run into him while carrying too many things at once. Her drink had spilled down the front of his uniform. She had apologized so much that day she had nearly made the whole thing worse, while he stood there looking more alarmed by her panic than the stain itself.
Now he was red to the ears.
"I know this is sudden," he said.
It probably was not sudden for him. Only for her.
"I just wanted to say it before graduation."
Mia tightened her hold on the envelope and sighed, wishing she could just disappear for a minute.
By now, it seemed less like a coincidence and more like a curse on the last days of school. Mia noticed fourth-years turned sentimental around graduation. Bold, apparently. Or just desperate. Boys who usually moved in packs now stood alone in front of girls, looking like they marched toward execution.
Sometimes she wished, with a hint of envy, that she could just fade into the background. But the school always made sure she stayed visible, and it irritated her more each year.
Her blonde hair was pinned up like always, with a black bow at the back. People always noticed it first. That had been true for years. Cait said her eyes only made it harder to blend in. Emerald eyes stood out too much at a school where everyone noticed everything. And her face, Cait claimed, could land her a role in a romantic movie if she ever tried out.
Mia had told her to be quiet.
She looked back at the fourth-year and made herself answer before he had to stand there any longer.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't."
His face fell anyway.
That was always the part she hated. The exact second hope gave up.
He let out a small laugh, like he was trying to save them both from the awkwardness. "Yeah. I thought maybe."
That made it harder somehow.
"I'm really sorry."
"No, it's okay." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I just figured if I didn't say it now, I'd regret it later."
Mia never knew what to do with lines like that. There was no answer that came out right. Anything she said would sound too formal or too cruel.
So she lowered her head a little. "Thank you for telling me."
He nodded. Then, because he really was decent, he stepped back first and spared her the trouble. "You should probably go. You look busy."
She almost groaned, but held it back.
He lifted a hand in an awkward little wave and walked off toward the main building, shoulders a touch too stiff, dignity still mostly intact.
Mia stayed where she was until he turned the corner.
Then she exhaled and pressed the report envelope lightly against her forehead.
"Rowan."
She looked up at once.
One of the office staff was standing at the teachers' office door, glasses sliding halfway down her nose. "2-A's report?"
"Right. Sorry."
Mia hurried over, handed in class 2-A's report, answered a brief question about who had collected it, then got dismissed with a distracted nod. By then, the sun had shifted lower, glazing the windows of the academic wing with late-afternoon gold.
Finally done for the day.
Which meant she could finally go find Ray.
Caitlin was still at the gym, cleaning up after basketball club. She had texted about it at lunch, with three miserable and four angry face emojis. So Ray, her best friend since elementary school, was the obvious choice. After class, he usually ended up at the back of the cafeteria courtyard, making clever excuses to sound like he wasn't waiting for her to finish student rep work lately.
Mia cut between the side building and the vending machines, then followed the narrow path toward the rear courtyard.
The bench was still there.
It looked like a strong storm could break it, with its weathered wood and rusty metal. Still, Ray Montrose always picked this bench, like it was his favorite chair at home. He was already there, one arm on the backrest, a book in his other hand, legs stretched out. He sat in a way that looked relaxed, but only because he never seemed to try. His navy blazer was still on, but his tie was loose, making him look less strict than most students. Dark, messy hair that Mia still believes is illegal on campus fell over his forehead, and his glasses made his face seem a little softer, even though he was actually more intimidating than he looked.
Mia knew better than most people.
The glasses were fake.
He wore them anyway.
Beside him, waiting exactly where she would see it, was an unopened bottle of melon juice.
Mia slowed.
Ray glanced up once, lowering his book. "Someone's not home yet."
"I had something to do."
"You look like it went badly."
Mia came to a stop in front of him and stared at the bottle. Then at him. "Why is that there?"
He followed her gaze with studied disinterest. "What?"
"The melon juice."
"Oh, this." He picked it up and held it out. "Machine mistake."
She took it before thinking. The bottle was cold enough to bead against her hand. "It accidentally gave you the exact drink I want?"
"I pressed twice."
"You don't even like melon."
"I'm capable of buying things I don't want."
Mia narrowed her eyes.
He looked back with the flattest expression he could manage, which only made him more suspicious.
Still, she sat down beside him.
The bench creaked in complaint.
"It's going to break one day," she muttered, adjusting herself on the bench.
"Then you'll stop coming here."
"I won't. I'll stand next to the wreckage and watch you repair it."
Ray clicked his tongue. "Yep. Sounds more like you."
She twisted the cap off the bottle and took a drink. It was cold, exactly what she needed. She felt herself relax a little, which was annoying, because she knew Ray would notice.
He did.
"So," he said, finally closing his book and putting it in his bag in one smooth motion. "Who was it?"
Mia tipped her head back with a groan. "How do you always know there is a 'who'?"
"You have that 'tired of senior's confessions' look."
"That should not be a real thing."
"It keeps happening. It became a real thing."
She turned to stare at him. Through the lenses, the light caught just enough for her to see the amber in his eyes for a second. "I hate that sentence."
He ignored that. "So it is a senior?"
"So it is a senior...," Mia replied sarcastically.
"Was I wrong?"
"No."
Ray leaned back, ankle crossing over the other. "Do I know him?"
"Sort of." Mia held the bottle between both hands. "I bumped into him in the cafeteria a while ago and spilled my drink on him."
Ray looked at her properly then. "Oh, that one."
Mia blinked. "You remember that?"
"Of course. You were one apology away from crying in public."
"I was not."
"You were close."
Mia lightly kicked the side of his shoe.
He barely moved. "That hurts."
"You earned it."
He let that pass. "So he's been secretly in love with you ever since you nearly drowned him in soda."
"It wasn't soda."
"That's your issue with my statement?"
She took another drink instead of answering.
A light breeze moved through the trees past the courtyard wall. Somewhere near the main building, someone shouted and got shushed by at least three other students. The sounds of after-school life drifted over in bits: shoes on stone and tile, club members dragging equipment after finishing up. It was a normal end to the day at St. Aurelius. Everything looked a little polished, but if you listened long enough, it was still a bit chaotic.
Mia sat with it for a moment.
Then she said, quieter, "I felt bad."
Ray made a vague sound. "Why?"
"Because he was nice."
"Nice people still get rejected."
"I know."
He was quiet for a beat.
Then, in the same even tone, "You saying no now is still kinder than dating him out of guilt and ruining his view on romance as he entered that harsh college life."
Mia turned to him. "That is an awful way to comfort somebody."
"It got the point across."
That was the annoying part.
It had.
Her shoulders loosened before she could hide it.
Ray saw it, of course. He noticed everything while acting like he did not care enough to notice anything.
"Okay, okay. I only know how to say things badly," he said. "Sorry."
Mia laughed, briefly and unwillingly.
He looked away first, which made the corner of his mouth easier to catch.
He could act like the rudest person in any conversation, yet still be the one who bought her favorite drink before she arrived. He could sit on the worst bench in school with fake glasses on, but somehow still look like he knew more than everyone else in the courtyard.
Mia looked down at the bottle as she thought about how lucky she is to have found a friend like him.
A second later, Ray flicked her lightly near the ear.
She jerked, faking hurt. "What was that for, Montrose?"
"That's for spacing out on my bench."
"Here I was thinking I'm lucky to have a friend like you."
"Less thinking, more drinking."
"You sit alone on a rickety bench after school. I don't think you get to advise anyone about habits."
He glanced at the bench. "This bench has what I call resilience."
"It has tetanus."
That got the faintest shift at the corner of his mouth.
Then quick footsteps came up the path.
"There you two are."
Caitlin Belford came over with her gym bag slung over one shoulder, ponytail half-falling apart from practice, her uniform wrinkled and clinging in places it probably shouldn't. She looked like she'd already pushed through a full day and then some, but there was still that steady, grounded way she carried herself. Even tired, even a little messy, she had this quiet athletic ease that Mia had liked since the first year. The kind that made everything feel a little less annoying just by being nearby.
Mia lifted the melon bottle in greeting. "Hi, Cait. You're late."
"I was cleaning the worst equipment cart in recorded history." Caitlin dropped onto Mia's other side with a long sigh. "Coach said five more minutes, which naturally meant five hours. Or forever."
Ray glanced at her. "You smell like old basketballs."
Caitlin looked over Mia's shoulder at him. "Good afternoon to you, too, Ray."
"It is, actually. For me."
"Why are you like this?"
"Birth defect."
Mia smiled into her drink, leaning to Caitlin.
Caitlin caught it right away, because Caitlin caught everything that mattered. "Your mood improved. Did he fix it already?"
Ray looked mildly offended. "I don't fix people."
"You do," Cait said. "You're just irritated about it."
"Rude but effective," Mia murmured.
Ray clicked his tongue.
Cait looked between them. "What happened this time?"
Mia groaned. "Another confession."
Cait's eyes widened. "Again?"
"Again."
"Fourth-year?"
Mia pointed at her with the bottle. "That. Exactly that. I'm tired of everyone saying it the same way."
"Because it's always a fourth-year this time of year," Cait said. "Graduation gets close and suddenly every boy thinks he'll regret everything forever."
Ray nodded once. "She's right."
Cait leaned her head briefly against Mia's shoulder, dramatic with fatigue. "You poor thing."
Mia pushed at her forehead. "Stop it."
"You say that every time, and it never works."
"It could start working today."
"It won't."
Cait sat up again, grinning. Then the grin softened a little as she glanced toward the gym building. "I hate when it starts feeling like this."
"Like what?" Mia asked.
"Like the year's already leaving."
That quieted all three of them more effectively than it should have.
The end of the second year was coming up soon. You could feel it in small ways at first. People talked about section reshuffles. Fourth-years started acting nostalgic in hallways they used to run through. Teachers mentioned next year without thinking, but it still made everyone feel weird for a moment. The campus looked the same as always, but it just didn't feel the same anymore.
Cait checked the time on her phone and made a pained sound. "I have to go back in ten minutes."
Mia turned toward her. "Walk home with us?"
"Please say yes," Ray said. "I'd rather not get stared to death by all the people who still think walking beside her means something."
"Oh, I just want to get home in peace," Mia muttered.
Cait laughed. "As much as I enjoy saving both of you from public speculation, no. We still have to lock up, and if I vanish now, Coach will track me by instinct."
Mia sighed. "Fine."
Ray stood first and stretched. "Then I'm leaving now, too."
Cait looked up at him. "That fast?"
"I only stayed because the new Bellamy's near the station starts discounting the leftover bread around this time."
Mia looked up at him, pouting. Bellamy's is a bakery shop Ray frequents on the way home. "So you waited here for cheap bread?"
"I waited here for five brownies for the price of two," Ray corrected.
"That sounds sad."
Ray looked at both of them with open disappointment. "Sad? It's economical."
Cait pointed at him. "It's sad because you're planning to buy cream buns without me."
"Blame your club."
He was already turning away.
Cait rose too and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. Before stepping back, she squeezed Mia's arm once, quick and familiar. "Text me when you get home."
"You too."
Cait started walking backward toward the gym. "And try to avoid confessions on the way to the station."
"I hate you."
"Love you too," Cait called, already grinning. Then she jogged off before Mia could answer.
For a moment, it was just the two of them again.
The courtyard had thinned while they were talking. The light had gone softer, gold catching on windows and the edges of the stone path. Mia adjusted her bag and fell into step beside Ray as they headed for the front gate.
He walked without any hurry at all, as if the rest of the city could wait until he felt like reaching it.
Mia glanced at him. "I thought you were waiting for me. Are you actually buying bread?"
"I guess so."
"That doesn't sound certain."
"It depends on whether they still have brownies."
She smiled a little and looked ahead again.
Students walked by in groups, louder now that classes were done, their conversations stretching on and on. Mia and Ray moved through the crowd without needing to start a conversation themselves. Their steps matched naturally. They usually did.
After a while, Ray said, "You okay now?"
Mia looked at him.
He was watching the road ahead, not her. The late light had caught on his glasses again. His question came out plain, undecorated, like he had not bothered to make it sound softer because he trusted she would hear it anyway.
Mia looked down at the bottle in her hand. There was only a little left.
"Yeah," she said. "I'm okay."
Ray nodded once.
That was all.
It still settled something in her.
They kept walking toward the station, side by side. By the time they left the school gates behind, the hardest part of the afternoon didn't seem important anymore.
What Mia did not realize was that this was one of the most uneventful days of her life moving forward.