Chapter Five

Zoey’s Pov

The announcement that Ryan and I had been chosen as the official student representatives spread through both schools much faster than either of us expected. 

Everywhere I went, someone seemed to have an opinion about it. Some students congratulated me because they thought it was an important opportunity, while others wondered how long it would take before Ryan and I started arguing in front of the entire committee again.

Even Ava couldn’t resist teasing me. “You know,” she said as we walked toward my locker after history class, “I’ve never seen you talk about another person this much.”

“I don’t talk about him that much.”

She gave me a look that clearly said she wasn’t convinced. “You mentioned his name four times during lunch.”

“Only because everyone else kept asking about the committee.”

“Mhm.”

“And because he keeps changing perfectly good ideas.”

She smiled. “So you were thinking about him.”

“I was thinking about the project.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

I gently nudged her shoulder with mine, earning a laugh that echoed through the hallway. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” she replied, still smiling. “That’s what makes this so entertaining.”

Before I could defend myself, the final bell rang, sending students pouring into the corridors.

A few minutes later, I stepped into the community center and immediately spotted Ryan standing near the stage with several large blueprint papers spread across a table. He looked up when he heard the door open.

“You’re early.”

“So are you.”

“I figured we should get a head start.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

For a moment neither of us spoke. It wasn’t awkward anymore. It simply felt comfortable.

Ryan tapped the papers in front of him. “I borrowed these from the town office.”

I walked over to the table and looked down. “They’re the festival grounds.”

“I thought it would be easier to plan if we could actually see where everything is supposed to go.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “That’s a smart idea.”

He looked almost offended. “Did you just compliment me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“I was going to frame that moment.”

“You’ll have to settle for remembering it.”

He laughed quietly before handing me a pencil. For the next hour we worked side by side, sketching possible layouts for the festival. Whenever one of us suggested something that didn’t quite fit, the other adjusted it without turning the conversation into another debate. Every now and then we disagreed, but instead of trying to prove who was right, we searched for ideas that combined both of our perspectives.

By the time Mrs. Dawson arrived to check our progress, nearly half the plan had already been completed. She looked pleasantly surprised. “I was expecting to separate another argument.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair. “We’re trying something new.”

Mrs. Dawson smiled. “I noticed.”

After she walked away, I looked at Ryan. “You know…”

“What?”

“We haven’t argued once today.”

He pretended to think about it. “I guess we’re both getting older.”

“It’s only been a week.”

“It feels longer.”

I laughed before realizing how natural it had become. That was new. Very new.

As the afternoon continued, volunteers from both schools began arriving to help organize supplies. Some carried boxes of decorations while others sorted equipment for the opening ceremony. I noticed several students from Evergreen hesitating before asking Ridgeview students for help. The awkwardness wasn’t surprising. For years, everyone had been taught to compete instead of cooperate.

Ryan seemed to notice the same thing. Without saying anything, he walked over to one of the hockey players struggling to lift a heavy storage box. Instead of carrying it himself, he called two Evergreen students over. “Can you give us a hand?”

The boys exchanged uncertain looks before stepping forward. Within minutes they were laughing over how much heavier the box had looked than it actually was. It was such a small moment that most people probably didn’t notice. I did.

Ryan returned a few minutes later as though nothing unusual had happened.

“You planned that.”

He looked confused. “Planned what?”

“The box.”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

“You wanted them to work together.”

“I figured somebody had to make the first move.”

I looked around the room. The atmosphere had already started changing. Students who normally stayed with members of their own school were now passing supplies back and forth, asking questions, and sharing ideas. Nobody had magically become best friends, but the invisible wall separating the two groups wasn’t quite as solid as it had been an hour earlier.

“I’ll admit it,” I said quietly.

“What?”

“You’re a better leader than I gave you credit for.”

He stared at me for a second. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“You could simply say thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

A comfortable silence settled between us while we continued arranging schedules and checking volunteer lists. After several minutes, Ryan broke it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

He leaned against the table. “Why do you push yourself so hard?”

The question caught me off guard. “What makes you think I do?”

“You never leave anything unfinished.”

I looked down at the planner in front of me before answering. “My mom works two jobs.” His expression softened. “She never complains, but I see how exhausted she is every day.” I traced one finger across the edge of the notebook. “If I earn a full scholarship, she’ll have one less thing to worry about.”

Ryan didn’t interrupt. He simply listened.

“I’ve spent years telling myself that if I work hard enough, eventually everything will fall into place.”

“It sounds exhausting.”

“It is.” The words slipped out before I had the chance to stop them.

For a moment neither of us spoke. Then Ryan let out a quiet breath. “My dad has planned my future since I was ten.”

I looked at him. “Hockey?”

“Hockey.”

“You love playing.”

“I do.” He paused, searching for the right words. “But sometimes… sometimes I don’t know if I’m playing because I love it or because everyone expects me to.”

I had never heard him sound so uncertain. The confident captain who always seemed to have an answer suddenly looked like any other seventeen-year-old trying to figure out his life.

“I guess we’re both trying to make someone proud,” I said softly.

He nodded. “I guess we are.”

Mrs. Dawson clapped her hands from the other side of the room, signaling the end of the afternoon session. Everyone slowly began packing their things. As I gathered my notebook, she approached our table with a satisfied smile.

“I’ve looked over your progress.”

I exchanged a quick glance with Ryan. “And?”

“I think the two of you make a stronger team than either of you realizes.”

I almost laughed. A week ago, hearing those words would have sounded impossible.

Now, I wasn’t so sure.