Chapter 1 – The First Signal
I never planned to fall for Sophia. It just happened — like sunlight sneaking past the curtains when you're not ready to wake up. She was my best friend Marcus's older sister, four years ahead of me, already in college, with that quiet confidence that made everyone listen when she spoke.
The first time I noticed her differently was last summer. Marcus had invited me over to help him move his old stuff out of the garage, and she was there — barefoot, in a loose T-shirt, her hair tied up, humming some old indie song. She looked nothing like the perfect Instagram version of beauty, but something about her calmness pulled me in.
When Marcus left to grab us drinks, Sophia smiled at me. Not just politely — the kind of smile that lingers, like she was seeing through me.
"Ethan, right?" she said.
"Yeah," I replied, trying to sound casual. "You probably don't remember me."
"Oh, I do," she said. "You've grown taller."
It was such a small thing to say, but it stuck in my head for days. That was the first signal — or maybe just the first one I noticed.
After that, she started showing up more often when I was around. Sometimes she'd sit near us while Marcus and I played games or watched movies. She'd tease him, make small talk with me, and every now and then, I'd catch her looking — just for a second — before pretending she wasn't.
It confused me. She wasn't like the girls my age who posted every emotion online. Sophia was subtle. Mature. Every glance, every word seemed to have layers. And yet, whenever I thought I should say something, ask her out maybe, she'd go cold — not rude, just distant, as if she'd closed an invisible door.
One evening, after Marcus went upstairs to take a call, she sat across from me on the couch.
"You're quiet today," she said.
"Just tired," I lied.
Her eyes softened. "You think too much, don't you?"
I laughed nervously. "Maybe."
"You remind me of me when I was your age," she said, leaning back.
That was it. The conversation drifted away, but the moment stayed.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I replayed every glance, every word. Was she being nice? Or was it something more? I didn't know. But deep down, I felt something had shifted — like the story had started, and I was already in it, whether I understood it or not.