Chapter 10 – Just Us
1101 Words
Harper was waiting on the grass under their favorite oak tree, her sketchbook balanced on her knees. Olivia spotted her from across the quad and picked up her pace, the weight of finals finally gone but leaving behind a strange mixture of relief and exhaustion. She waved as she got closer.
“There’s the champion of science,” Harper called out, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up. “How’d it go?”
“Ugh, don’t even ask,” Olivia said, flopping down beside her without any preamble. She sprawled on the grass, staring up at the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches. “Let’s just say I survived. Barely.”
“Barely’s better than not at all,” Harper quipped, flipping a page in her sketchbook. “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Snow?”
Olivia groaned. “If anyone calls me ‘Dr. Snow’ anytime soon, I might cry. I’m putting that persona on hold until further notice.”
“Noted.” Harper grinned, tapping her pencil against the edge of her sketchbook. “Do you have post-finals plans? Or are you planning to hibernate until next semester?”
“Hibernation sounds amazing,” Olivia said wistfully, closing her eyes. “But I promised my sister I’d visit her. She’s been sending me pictures of our dog all week as bait.”
“Ah, the lure of a beloved pet,” Harper said solemnly. “It’s effective.”
“Super effective,” Olivia agreed, cracking one eye open to glance at Harper. “What about you? Big summer plans?”
Harper hesitated, the usual lightness in her expression dimming slightly. “I’ve got that internship in the city. Starts in a couple of weeks.”
“That’s exciting,” Olivia said, propping herself up on her elbows. “You’re gonna knock their socks off. I just know it.”
“I hope so,” Harper said, her tone quieter than usual. “But, honestly, it’s kind of terrifying. New city, new people… What if I screw up? What if I don’t measure up?”
“You’re Harper,” Olivia said firmly, sitting up fully now. “You’ve got this. You’re brilliant and creative and—" She gestured vaguely at the sketchbook in Harper’s lap. “—just ridiculously talented.”
Harper glanced at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” Olivia said, her voice steady.
Harper studied her for a moment, her eyes softening. “Thanks, Liv. That means a lot.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the soft rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of campus life filling the space between them. Harper returned to her sketching, and Olivia watched her for a moment before tilting her head curiously.
“What are you drawing this time?” she asked.
Harper didn’t look up. “Guess.”
Olivia leaned over, trying to peek at the page. “Another tree?”
“Wrong,” Harper said, her tone teasing.
Olivia squinted at the sketchbook, catching a glimpse of lines and curves that looked suspiciously familiar. “Wait… is that me?”
“Ding ding ding,” Harper said, still not looking up. “Give the girl a prize.”
Olivia flushed, leaning back. “Why do you keep drawing me? Aren’t you sick of my face by now?”
“Not even a little,” Harper replied, glancing at her with a mischievous smile. “You’re a good muse. Dynamic. Expressive. And you make funny faces when you’re thinking.”
“I do not,” Olivia protested.
“You do,” Harper said, her smile widening. “Like right now. That little scrunch thing you’re doing with your nose? Adorable.”
Olivia covered her face with her hands, groaning. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, here you are,” Harper said, her tone light but fond.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, turning everything golden, Olivia leaned back on her hands, sighing contentedly. “It feels weird, you know? Finals are over, but I don’t feel done. Like, there’s still this pressure, this… something hanging over me.”
Harper set her sketchbook aside and turned to face her fully. “It’s because you’ve been running on stress for weeks. Your brain doesn’t know how to turn it off yet.”
Olivia frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. How do you turn it off?”
“Me?” Harper tilted her head, pretending to consider. “I draw. Or I listen to music. Or I talk to my favorite science nerd.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And who might that be?”
Harper smirked. “This girl I know. Bit of an overachiever, kind of a perfectionist, but she’s got a good heart.”
“Sounds like a handful,” Olivia said, fighting a smile.
“She is,” Harper said, her voice softening. “But she’s worth it.”
The air between them shifted, subtle but undeniable. Olivia felt her pulse quicken, her gaze dropping to the grass. “You’re… pretty amazing too, you know.”
“Yeah?” Harper said, leaning in slightly. “How amazing are we talking here?”
Olivia laughed nervously, her cheeks flushing. “Don’t make me quantify it. You’ll make fun of my math.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Harper said, though her grin suggested otherwise. “But, for the record, I think you’re pretty amazing too.”
Olivia looked up then, meeting Harper’s gaze. There was something in her eyes—something steady and warm and real. And before she could overthink it, before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned in.
Harper met her halfway, their lips brushing in a kiss that was soft and tentative and perfect in its simplicity. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of the moment and the quiet thrill of something new and certain.
When they finally pulled back, Harper was smiling, her eyes shining. “So… does this mean I’ve graduated from being your art supplier to something more?”
Olivia laughed, her cheeks still flushed. “I think we can call it a promotion.”
“Good,” Harper said, her voice light but sincere. “Because I like you, Olivia Snow.”
“I like you too, Harper Quinn,” Olivia replied, her smile widening.
They sat under the oak tree, their fingers brushing and their hearts full, as the sun set on the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
- Writer
