Just Ends Like That

As the summer break reluctantly gave way to the impending fall semester, I found myself once again on my way to school. Leaves, once lush green, were beginning to flirt with lazy hues of orange and red, gently falling to the ground like nature's confetti. The brisk morning air carried the scent of damp earth. And more than anything, the promise of cooler days to come. A light breeze rustled the leaves overhead, as if whispering for the carefree days of summer. The sidewalks were scattered with fallen leaves, creating a satisfying crunch underfoot. It was as if nature itself was bidding farewell to summer, preparing for the quiet introspection of autumn.

My school bag swung lightly at my side, the weight of books pulling me forward.

It's like a blank canvas. And the colors to paint upon it are right in my hands. Waiting to be painted with new experiences, challenges, and achievements. With a deep breath, I stepped through the gates, ready to embrace whatever the new semester had in store.

I can't deny that I miss summer. It's undoubtedly the highlight of high school life. Sometimes, I wish I could relive those few months over and over again. The endless possibilities and the feeling that there's no limit to what you can do makes it truly special. This summer marked my first in this new town, and when I look back, it's clear that a lot has changed. There was a time when I didn't have any plans, just going with the flow. But as time passed, I realized the importance of making every moment count. Even the briefest moments of boredom weighed on me.

From when I didn't think of doing anything... never trying to make the time count... to where even for a second when I felt bored or had nothing to do really got through to me. Specially after John and Adica started going out with each other. Yeah, John and Adica going out was a turning point for our group. It wasn't that we didn't support them or that we weren't happy for them. It was more about how it changed the dynamics between us. it was really fun, hanging out together and creating memories. But now, it's like there's a divide.

We didn't go to the places we used to visit as a group anymore. And even at first, we were still hanging out together, things weren't the same. It felt like there was an unspoken tension, like we were trying to adapt to this new reality. I could tell that Emma felt it too. Our conversations were different, and sometimes, we'd find ourselves sitting in silence, lost in our thoughts. In the end, we stopped hanging out together all together.

And me, well, I couldn't help but feel a strange pang whenever I thought about John and Adica being together. It wasn't jealousy, not really. Or... I don't know. I really don't know. But there surely was a sense of loss. I missed those times, the way things used to be. It was hard to accept that those days were gone. I guess it's just human nature. When things feel good... when we want to keep on holding what we have... we resist change, even if it's for the better. It took me a while to come to terms with it. I had to remind myself that people grow and change, and that's a part of life. But it wasn't easy.

Over the summer, I spent a lot of time reflecting on it. I realized that I needed to let go of the past and embrace the present. John and Adica were happy together, and that was what mattered most. Our friendship might have evolved, but it didn't mean it was any less meaningful.

So, as we entered the fall semester, I decided to focus on cherishing the moments we had together, even if they were different from what they used to be.

I walked into the classroom, the familiar sights and sounds of the school greeting me. It was all so routine, so ordinary. But today, something felt different. I approached John desk, and Adica's desks right beside mine, just like I always did, and offered a cheerful "Good morning!" It was a simple greeting, something I'd done countless times before. I guess I've said the same thing countless times before too. But this time, it felt like my words were clinging to the back of my throat, reluctant to escape.

It was strange. It was as if a part of me wanted to distance myself from them, to avoid the awkwardness that had settled between us. I knew it wasn't their fault. And yet, a part of me couldn't help but wish for things to go back to the way they were before they started going out. As if not facing them... not talking to them... not greeting them would ease my unease.

I tried my best to keep up the pretense. I greeted them with a smile, engaged in the usual small talk, and tried my best to act like everything was fine. But inside, I felt a growing distance, a gap that seemed to widen with each passing day.

Mr. Clair had asked to see me after classes today, and so I gathered my belongings and headed to the teacher's office.

As I made my way down the hallway, I noticed Mr. Clair already waiting for me. He appeared somewhat disheartened; his expression slightly downcast. However, the moment he spotted me walking toward him, his face brightened, and he offered a welcoming smile. I smiled back, feeling a bit relieved. He gestured me to come inside his office, and I followed him.

"Reol, wait a second-" he said, shuffling through the stacks of papers on his desk. After a solid five minutes, he finally found what he was looking for and looked up at me. "This is for you!" He handed me a thick book and a sealed envelope. I looked at them inquisitively and asked, "What's this?" My eyes moved from the items to Mr. Clair, waiting for an explanation.

"Open the envelope."

Just a white envelope. I turned it around on all sides. Yeah, nothing on it. I opened it, and inside, I found a certificate and a few cards. Town Library Spring Literature Festival. My name was printed on it in bold letters. "You've won the first prize in your category," Mr. Clair announced.

A whole rush of emotions washed over me – joy, relief, and a visible sense of accomplishment. I couldn't believe it – I had won! This is really happening! How is this even possible? "Mr. Clair, am I even seeing this right?"

"The results had been announced a week ago, but due to summer break, I hadn't been able to reach to you sooner."

"Did Adica win anything? She worked really hard on her entries."

Mr. Clair paused, his face taking on a thoughtful look before he answered, "No, Reol, she didn't." My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and I leaned in, silently urging him to explain further. I had thought Adica had a good chance of winning something for her efforts. "You see, Adica's approach to literature is unique. She's an avid reader and loves to analyze texts deeply. However, translating that depth into her own writing can be quite challenging."

I frowned, trying to comprehend his words. "What do you mean?" 

"Writing isn't just about knowledge or how much one has read." Mr. Clair leaned back in his chair. "It's also about the ability to craft a unique perspective, to convey one's own thoughts and feelings through words. While Adica is undoubtedly well-versed in literature, her writing tends to stick closely to what she's read, lacking that personal touch."

He continued, "Your work, on the other hand, may not meet the lofty standards of literary classics, but it possesses a certain charm. It reflects your own perspective, your own voice, and your unique way of viewing the world. Sometimes, that's what sets a piece of writing apart."

After leaving Mr. Clair's office, I made my way to the clubroom, all the excitement from before still bubbling within me. But I should keep it in wraps. After all, Adica didn't win any prizes, and I don't want to come across as if I were bragging about my own success. I wanted to celebrate, but I also wanted to be sensitive to her feelings. With cautious steps, I slid the doors of the clubroom open. I had expected to see the usual sight – Adica engrossed in a novel, her face a canvas of emotions as she delved into the world of her own, and Emma, her vibrant energy filling the room. But today was different. There was an almost sensible absence in the room, a void that immediately caught my attention.

Emma sat by the window, her head resting in the lap of her hands, her gaze fixed on the trees beyond the window, appearing as a hazy, indistinct mass of green. Their leaves seemed to blend together in a soft blur like an artist's watercolor painting left out in the rain. I approached quietly, not wanting to startle her. "Emma," I called out gently, letting my voice peer through the silence.

She turned her head slowly, her eyes meeting mine. There was a weariness in her gaze, something I hadn't seen before. "Oh Reol, you're here already... what's that in your hand?" she responded softly. Her voice had some kind of a weight to it, though something I couldn't quite place.

I took the certificate out from the envelope and passed it to her on the table. "The literature fest. I got the first prize in my catagory."

Her head, propped up by her left hand, turned toward the certificate, and her eyes widened. "Seriously?" She reached out with her right hand to pick it up. "That's impressive."

I took a step closer. "Where's Adica?"

Emma pushed the certificate back toward me, her gaze dropping to the table. Her fingers idly traced patterns on the table sill. "She left."

"She left already?"

Emma sighed, thrusting herself up from the table. "She left the club... Adica left the club."