Chapter 4

(Paul’s POV)

Mornings feel different when you know something is waiting for you. It’s not something you can see, or that anyone else would notice. The sky still looks the same, pale and calm. The air around Crestfall still has that quiet stillness it’s known for. Even the routine is the same—my driver pulled up to the gates at the usual time, and the school looks as perfectly calm as ever.

But underneath it all, there’s something else. A feeling of waiting that I couldn't quite put a name to. It’s quiet, not strong enough to cause problems, but there, and I know it’s there.

I got out of the car, smoothing my sleeve like I always do, and my eyes went straight to the school entrance. The rule from last night clicks into place in my mind. 

‘The first person I see.’ 

It was a simple rule, and it led to a simple outcome. There’s no reason to pause. No reason to think too hard about it. Whoever is standing there will be… easy to handle.

I started walking. For a short moment, I thought about just looking down. I could easily put off what has to happen, stretching out the time before the rule was met. But that would look like I was hesitating. And I don’t hesitate. So, I looked up.

And then I saw him.

Louis Walker was standing exactly where he always does. There’s something almost expected about it now, something that should feel normal. He’s holding a small box in both hands, standing easy, his face bright in a way that doesn’t seem affected by the early hour. He looks the same as he does every other morning. Unaware. Unchanged.

For a second—just a second—I stop. The realization sinks in quietly. Of all the things that could have happened. Of all the people I could have seen. It’s him. A quick, passing thought crosses my mind. *I could turn away.* I could pretend I didn’t see him. Walk past. Choose someone else. Meet the condition without any trouble. It would be easy. Smart. What everyone would expect.

And yet— I don’t move. Instead, I step forward. Each step feels deliberate, careful, as if the decision is being made with every movement rather than all at once. He sees me almost right away. Of course he does. His face changes, getting a little brighter, as if this moment is just like any other.

“Good morning,” he says, holding out the box. “You’re right on time today.”

I stop in front of him. For a moment, I said nothing. I just looked at him. The same easygoing way and openness. The same lack of knowing how unusual this moment really is. There was something almost funny about it. And yet— it felt like it was meant to be.

“You’re always the same,” I said.

He smiled a little. “I try to be.” He offered the box again, as if we had already decided this would happen. I took it. My fingers brush against his for just a second. It’s nothing. And yet, I notice it. He doesn’t. Or if he does, he doesn’t show it.

“I made something different today,” he continued. “I thought maybe you’d get bored if I kept bringing the same thing.”

“You’re assuming I care.”

“I do,” he admitted easily. “But I think I’m right.”

There was no doubt in his voice. I watched him for another moment. Then— “I’ll date you.”

The words come out of my mouth without any special feeling. No big announcement. No explanation. Just a statement. For a second, he didn't react. Not because he didn’t hear me. But because he probably didn't understand.

“What?” he asks, blinking a little.

“I’ll date you,” I repeat, my voice still the same. “Starting today.”

Silence fell between us. Not the comfortable quiet that fills up space nicely. This is the kind of quiet that waits. His expression changed slowly. First confusion. Then disbelief. And then— something else.

“You’re serious?” he asks, his voice quieter now, as if speaking too loud might break the moment.

“Yes.”

“Like… really serious?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me, looking for something in my face—hesitation, amusement, anything to show this isn’t real. He found nothing. Because there’s nothing to find. The change is immediate. It happens so fast it’s almost dizzying. His eyes get a little wider, his whole face lighting up in a way that is… pure. Real.

“You mean it,” he says, more to himself than to me.

“I do.”

And then he smiles. Not the small, controlled smiles people usually wear here. Something brighter and so real. It was unexpected.

“You’re not going to change your mind later, right?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice despite his excitement.

“No.”

“Or say it was a joke?”

“No.”

He let out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it without knowing. “Okay,” he says, nodding once. “Okay.”

There’s a pause. Then he laughed quietly, shaking his head a little. “This is… not how I thought this would happen.”

I didn't answer. Because I didn’t think about it at all.

By the middle of the day, everyone knew. News travels fast at Crestfall, especially when something unexpected happens. And this— this is unexpected. I find them in the usual spot. Adrian is the first to see me, his eyes lifting with immediate understanding that something is different.

“Well,” he said, leaning back a bit, “you look… calm.”

“I always do.”

“True,” he admitted. “But today feels different.”

The others were watching me now. Waiting. “You’ve made your choice, I guess?” Elena asked.

“I have.”

Adrian tilts his head. “And?”

I hold his gaze for a moment before answering. “Louis Walker.”

There’s a pause. Then— Laughter. “Of course it is,” Adrian said, shaking his head slightly. “That’s almost too perfect.”

“You’re kidding,” someone else added.

“I’m not.”

Elena looked at me more closely, her expression changing from amusement to something more thoughtful. “You didn’t try to get out of it,” she said.

“No.”

“You could have.”

“I didn’t.”

Another pause. “Well,” Adrian said finally, his smile returning, “this just got a lot more interesting.”

I didn't answer. Because what they thought at this point didn't matter. Not in the way they believed it did. There’s no embarrassment. No regret. Just— a quiet understanding that something had already begun.

The rest of the day felt different. I could tell. People looked. They always do. But now, there’s something else behind their looks. Curiosity. Guessing. Expectation. I ignored it like I ignore most things that didn't need my attention. 

And yet— there is one thing that does. A time. A place. A decision that I made without thinking too far ahead. We were meeting later.

The evening air was cooler than I expected. The campus felt different at this hour—quieter, less organized. The usual order softened, leaving space for something less clear. I arrived first. Of course I did. The place was simple. Away from the main buildings, near the edge of the sports field where the lights didn't shine as strongly. It’s not a place I would normally choose. And yet— it works. I waited. Not too long though before he arrived and it was a few minutes later. He was a little out of breath, like he had hurried.

“Sorry,” he said, slowing down as he walked toward me. “I didn’t want to be late.”

“You’re not.”

He seems to relax a little at that. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was different from before. 

“So…” he started, looking at me briefly before looking away. “We’re actually doing this.”

“Yes.”

Another pause. “You’re really serious about it?”

“Yes.”

He nods slowly, like he’s still trying to understand it. “I thought about it all day,” he admitted. “Trying to figure out if there was a trick.”

“There isn’t,” I muttered.

“You just decided?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

The question hung there. I thought about it for a moment. “There didn't need to be a reason.”

He looked at me for a moment. Then smiled a little. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll accept that. For now.” There’s something in his voice that suggests he won’t leave it at that. But he doesn’t push. Not yet.

We walked for a while after that. Not close together. Not far apart. Just… together. He talked more than I did. About small things. Things that don’t matter. Things that didn't need an answer. I listened. Not because I had to. But because I didn't mind. At some point, he stopped walking. I noticed right away.

“What is it?” I asked.

He paused. Then turned to face me. “You’re really calm about this,” he said.

“Should I not be?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just thought it would feel… different.”

“It doesn’t?”

He thought about that. “It does,” he said finally. “Just not in the way I expected.”

Before I could answer, he stepped closer. Enough to change the space between us. I didn't move. I watched him instead. His expression was different now. 

“This is probably a bad idea,” he said softly.

“Then don’t do it.” I spat.

He smiled faintly. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “That’s the problem.”

And then— he closes the distance. The touch was brief. His lips brush against mine, light and uncertain, like he’s trying something he’s not sure will work. For a second, I didn't react. 

And then he pulled back. Too quickly. Like he realizes what he’s done a moment too late.

“I’m sorry,” he said right away, stepping back. “I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine.”

The words come easily. Looking at my face again. For something. I didn't give it to him because I didn't fully understand it myself.