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Chapter 3 – Act 2
As the bus pulled away from the school, the inside filled with noise. Laughter, chatter, wrappers crinkling. Samuel and Jordan ate the food they'd been given, sitting shoulder to shoulder as the city slowly slipped away behind them.
(Narrator)
In truth, the food Samuel received was barely half of what Jordan had. Most people never offered him anything. They didn't dislike him openly—he simply existed on the edge of things. An afterthought. An outcast, whether he meant to be or not.
Water began leaking from the bus ceiling, dripping down in uneven intervals.
It landed on her.
Samuel instinctively started to rise from his seat, but before he could take a step, a boy sitting beside her reached up and fixed the problem effortlessly. The dripping stopped. The girl smiled at him—soft, warm, effortless. The kind of smile Samuel had built entire worlds around.
Jordan followed Samuel's gaze and frowned.
"Really, Samuel?" he said quietly.
Samuel turned toward him, confused. "What?"
Jordan sighed. "Never mind."
(Narrator)
Jordan reacted that way because he already understood something Samuel wasn't ready to accept. Not yet. Not then.
The bus came to a stop.
They had arrived at the college campus.
The students poured out, guided through wide walkways and tall buildings that felt impossibly large for kids their age. College students passed by without a second glance. To them, this group was nothing more than background noise.
They eventually entered a campus shop. Most of the group clustered together, laughing, browsing. Samuel stayed near the back, drifting farther behind with every step. The advisors noticed. They always did.
(Narrator)
Samuel never had the best reputation. People mistook his quietness for distance, his distance for coldness. He had friends—but his mind and heart were rarely where his body stood. He was always somewhere else. Somewhere unreachable.
Perhaps all he ever needed was to be fully present with himself.
Lunch finally arrived.
Samuel carried his tray—ham sandwich, tea—simple things. Enough. He felt almost content. Then, as he passed another table, voices cut through the noise.
"Check out ___'s new boyfriend."
They were talking about her.
(Narrator)
That was the moment. The moment the illusion cracked. The moment the boy was humbled.
Not because he lost—but because he realized there had never been a battle to win.
The enemy he had been fighting was his own shadow.
Samuel's steps slowed.
Later, under the excuse of using the bathroom, he drifted away from the group. He watched from a distance. Saw her again. Saw the boy from the bus standing beside her—closer now. Their hands intertwined.
Samuel clenched his fists.
He told himself it wasn't real. That fate still had plans. That somehow—someway—they were meant to be.
But it was nothing more than a fantasy.
Someone shouted his name across the courtyard.
"SAMUEL! STOP TRYING TO LOOK COOL AND COME ON—WE GOTTA GO!"
Samuel exhaled, rolled his eyes, and followed.
They talked about the future on the walk back. Surgeons. Lawyers. Pediatricians. Big dreams that impressed everyone. When Samuel mentioned art, the conversation quietly moved on.
No one cared.
They boarded the bus again.
Samuel sat alone this time. Music filled his ears, drowning out the noise as the bus carried them back. He stared out the window, convinced that out of everyone on that trip, he was the most disliked.
It was a belief that rooted itself deeply inside him.
(Narrator)
That day humbled Samuel. It could have taught him something important.
But it didn't.
Not yet.
You'll see how it ends.....
