Chapter 6- NEW FACES, OLD FEELINGS.
993 Words
Monday mornings had never been Rory's favorite.
The first week of senior year had already buried everyone under homework, club sign-ups, and endless lectures about preparing for university.
Rory rested her chin on her desk, absentmindedly twirling her pencil while waiting for their English teacher to arrive.
"You look like you're about to fall asleep," Emma whispered from the desk behind her.
"I almost did."
"Didn't you sleep?"
"I stayed up reading."
Emma smirked.
"Another romance novel?"
"...Maybe."
"I knew it."
Before Rory could reply, someone gently tapped the side of her desk.
She looked up.
Noah stood there, holding out a small paper bag.
"For you."
She blinked.
"What's this?"
"Open it."
Curious, Rory peeked inside.
A warm chocolate croissant.
Her favorite.
"You bought me breakfast?"
"You skipped breakfast."
"I only skipped half of it."
"You gave your pancakes to your dad."
"He looked hungry."
"He already had four."
Rory laughed.
"Thank you."
Noah shrugged as though it wasn't a big deal.
"You would've done the same."
She smiled.
He was right.
She would have.
At lunch, the three friends headed toward their favorite spot beneath a large maple tree behind the school gym.
It wasn't as majestic as the old oak tree in Willow Creek Park, but it was quiet.
Emma spread a picnic blanket across the grass.
"I officially declare this our lunch headquarters."
"You've declared that every year," Noah said.
"And every year it becomes true."
Rory opened her lunchbox.
Mrs. Hart had packed sandwiches, strawberries, and a small container of homemade cookies.
Noah looked over.
"You have cookies again."
"You noticed?"
"I always notice."
"You only notice because you want one."
"I feel unfairly judged."
Rory laughed before handing him a cookie.
"Here."
"I knew kindness would win."
Emma rolled her eyes dramatically.
"You two are unbelievable."
"What?"
"You share food every single day."
"So?"
"You've been doing it since primary school."
Rory shrugged.
"It's just food."
Emma pointed at Noah.
"And you."
"What?"
"You always save the last cookie for her."
Noah looked genuinely confused.
"Do I?"
"You do."
Rory glanced at him.
"I've... never noticed."
Emma sighed.
"You two are impossible."
That afternoon, the school held sign-ups for extracurricular activities.
Students crowded around colorful posters lining the hallway.
Basketball Club.
Drama Society.
Photography Club.
Music Ensemble.
Art Club.
Student Council.
"What are you joining?" Emma asked.
"I'm thinking Photography Club," Rory replied.
"You love taking pictures."
"I know."
Emma looked at Noah.
"And you?"
He smiled.
"Basketball."
"Obviously."
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm not."
"You expected it."
"I absolutely did."
Rory smiled quietly.
Basketball had always been Noah's dream.
Even as a child, he'd spend hours shooting hoops in his driveway until the sun disappeared.
She couldn't imagine him choosing anything else.
Just as they were about to leave...
A girl walked into the hallway.
She had long blonde hair tied into a high ponytail and carried a stack of books against her chest.
Several students turned to look.
"Who's that?" Emma whispered.
"I've never seen her before," Rory replied.
The principal walked beside her.
"This is Lily Carter," he announced.
"She transferred here from Greenfield Academy. Please make her feel welcome."
Lily smiled politely.
"Nice to meet everyone."
The whispers immediately began.
"She's pretty."
"I heard Greenfield is a private school."
"I wonder why she transferred."
Rory barely paid attention.
Until—
"Brooks!"
The basketball coach called.
"Come here for a second."
Noah excused himself and walked over.
Coach Reynolds introduced him to the new girl.
"Lily, this is Noah Brooks."
"Our basketball captain."
Lily smiled warmly.
"It's nice to meet you."
"You too."
They shook hands.
From across the hallway, Rory watched the interaction.
It shouldn't have bothered her.
It was just a greeting.
Nothing more.
So...
Why did it feel strange?
"Earth to Rory."
Emma waved a hand in front of her face.
"Huh?"
"You're staring."
"I am not."
"You've looked at Noah and the new girl for the last thirty seconds."
"I was just..."
She paused.
"...observing."
Emma folded her arms.
"Observing."
"Yes."
"Mhm."
"Stop smiling."
"I'm not smiling."
"You definitely are."
Emma leaned closer.
"Jealous?"
Rory almost choked.
"What?!"
"No."
"Not even a little?"
"Absolutely not."
Emma laughed.
"Good."
"Because it would be awkward if you liked your best friend."
"I don't."
"Sure."
"I don't!"
Emma raised both hands.
"Fine."
"If you say so."
After school, Noah caught up with Rory outside the front gate.
"You ready?"
"For what?"
"Our walk home."
"Oh."
She smiled.
"Of course."
As they walked through Willow Creek together, Noah talked excitedly about basketball tryouts.
"The coach thinks we have a chance at winning regionals this year."
"That's amazing."
"I've been practicing all summer."
"I know."
"You watched half of my practices."
"I also picked up your basketball when you missed."
"You picked it up every time."
"You missed a lot."
"I was distracted."
"By what?"
He smiled.
"You talking."
Rory laughed softly.
"You always have an excuse."
"Only because you always prove me wrong."
The conversation flowed as naturally as it always had.
Yet...
For some reason...
The image of Noah shaking Lily's hand lingered in the back of Rory's mind.
She didn't understand why.
Not yet.
That evening, Rory sat by her bedroom window with her camera resting in her lap.
Outside, Noah practiced basketball in his driveway.
The steady bounce of the ball echoed through the quiet neighborhood.
Bounce.
Shoot.
Swish.
Bounce.
Shoot.
Miss.
"Seriously?" Noah muttered to himself.
Rory couldn't help smiling.
She lifted her camera.
Click.
She captured him laughing at his own missed shot.
A moment later, Noah looked up.
Their eyes met through the window.
He grinned and waved.
Caught.
Rory laughed and waved back before quickly lowering her camera.
She looked at the photograph she had just taken.
Without realizing it...
She had begun filling her camera with pictures of Noah.
Not because she meant to.
But because somehow...
He always seemed to find his way into the frame.
- Writer
