Chapter Eight----The Hill at Sunset
840 Words
By the time the clock hit 4:45, I had checked my reflection in the mirror twelve times,
changed my shirt twice, and convinced myself at least thirty times that I should
"accidentally" forget to show up.
But at 4:50, I was already halfway to the hill behind the soccer field.
The sun was lowering, turning everything gold. The air smelled like warm grass and a tiny
hint of nerves---which was probably just me. My hands wouldn't stop fidgeting. My
stomach had become a trampoline. And my whole brain kept chanting the same thing:
Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Please do not freak out.
When I reached the base of the hill, Luca was already there.
He stood with one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other raking through his hair, like he was
trying to calm himself down. The wind brushed across the field, catching his hoodie strings
and the edges of his curls. He looked... nervous.
Him.
Nervous.
For me.
When he saw me, his whole face softened.
"You came," he said.
"You asked," I replied quietly.
He smiled---small, hesitant, hopeful. "Right. I did."
We walked up the hill together, our steps slow, the gras brushing against our ankles. At
the top, the whole field stretched out beneath us. The sunset painted everything orange,
like the world had turned warm just for this moment.
I sat. Luca sat beside me---close, but not too close. Like he was giving me space... or
waiting for permission.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
It was him who broke the quiet.
"I didn't leave because I wanted ot," he said softly. "I need you to know that first."
My heart thudded. "Then why did you?"
His eyes clouded, like he was reaching back into something he didn't like to remember.
"My dad... he got into trouble. And when he gets into trouble, I have to go with him.
Doesn't matter how sudden. Doesn't matter who I'm leaving behind."
Who I'm leaving behind.
My chest tightened.
"Luca..." I whispered.
"I didn't want to disappear on you. Or make you think I didn't care." His voice dropped,
sincere in a way that almost hurt. "You were the best part of last year. And when I left
without saying anything, I hated myself for it."
Warmth rushed through me. Confusion too. Hope. Fear. Too many emotions fighting for
space.
"I didn't know," I said. "I thought you just... left."
He shook his head. "I would've stayed if I could've"
A beat passed. Then another.
And then---
"Mia," he said gently. "That night before I left... I was going to---"
Branches snapped behind us.
We both turned.
At first, I thought it was a squirrel.
It wasn't.
It was her.
Brielle Turner.
My ex-best friend.
The girl who knew everything about me.
The girl who stopped speaking to me last spring.
The girl who had mastered the art of smiling like a saint while twisting the knife.
She stood there with her arms crossed, eyes narrowing like she'd caught us doing
something illegal.
"What," Brielle said coolly, "is this?"
Ice dripped down my spine. "Why are you here?"
SHe lifted one eyebrow. "Why am I here? Funny question. Since I'm the one who got a
message saying I 'should really check the hill."
She pulled out her phone.
Avan.
I was going to commit a crime.
Brielle looked between Luca and me, her lip curling ever so lightly. "Wow. Amazing. Truly
inspriational. Two people who couldn't even talk last year are suddenly playing sunset
soulmates."
"Brielle---" I started.
But she cut me off.
"You know what's crazy?" Her voice was sugar-coated poision. "People actually feel sorry
for you, Mia. They think you're quiet and sweet and tragic."
My mouth went dry. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing," she said, flipping her hair. "Just... stories. Things people are starting to hear.
Things people are starting to believe."
Luca stood. "What stories?"
Brielle smoled---sharp, cruel, gleaming. "Ask her. She knows."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
She wasn't bluffing.
She wasn't hinting.
She was threatening.
And she wanted me to know it.
Brielle stepped closer, lowering her voice. "This year was supposed to be my year, Mia. I'm
done being the villian in your sad little diary version of events. So guess what? I'm taking
the story back."
My breath caught.
"You wouldn't," I whispered.
"Already did," she said, smiling sweetly. "But don't worry. It'll get around by Monday."
With a flick of her hair and a glance at Luca--sharp enough to cut---she turned and walked
down the hill, her silhouette glowing in the dying sun.
The momemnt she disappeared behind the trees, the silence she left behind felt like a
bruise.
Luca turned ot me, eyes searching my face.
"Mia," he said slowly, "What is she talking about."
And just like that----
The wsrmth of the moment vanished.
The sunset felt colder.
The hill felt smaller.
And the truth I never wanted to revisit...
was sudeenly staring me right in the face.
- Writer
