Last Days At Ridgeview High

First Bell

The morning sun hit Ridgeview like a promise.

Its rays spilled over the quiet streets, glinting off the silver hood of Derek Ortiz’s car as it slowed to a stop outside a modest two-story house on Bayview Lane.

Derek leaned back in the driver’s seat, one hand loose on the wheel, the other brushing through his sandy-brown hair. He had the kind of look that made people stop and stare—tall, athletic, easy smile, ocean-blue eyes that always seemed confident, even when he wasn’t trying to be.

He tapped the horn once.

“Let’s go, genius! You’re gonna make me late for my first practice of the year.”

The front door opened, and Jude O’Neil stepped out.

Lean, pale, dark curls refusing to cooperate, glasses already sliding down his nose—he looked exactly like someone who’d spent the summer planning instead of living. His backpack sagged with the weight of notebooks, folders, and a student council binder he hadn’t let go of since sophomore year.

“Relax,” Jude said as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Coach isn’t gonna start practice before first period.”

Derek grinned. “That’s the problem. I’d rather not run at all.”

They laughed, and for a moment, it felt the way it always had—easy, familiar, untouchable.

The drive to Ridgeview blurred by in soft pop beats and half-finished thoughts. Derek waved at nearly every car they passed. Jude watched from the corner of his eye, quietly amazed.

People just liked Derek.

“You nervous about senior year?” Derek asked as the school gates came into view.

“Only about everything,” Jude said. “Savannah’s gunning for valedictorian again.”

Derek smirked. “And you’re gunning harder.”

Jude smiled faintly. “I need this year to go right.”

Derek nodded—but his attention had already shifted to the crowd gathering ahead.

Ridgeview High stood tall and familiar—red brick, white trim, flags snapping in the breeze. The parking lot buzzed with movement.

The moment Derek stepped out of the car, gravity shifted.

“Ortiz!” “Captain!” “Yo, Derek!”

Hands clapped his shoulders. Someone tossed him a water bottle; he caught it without looking. A cheerleader laughed too loudly at something he hadn’t even said.

Jude stepped out beside him and adjusted his glasses.

A few people nodded at him—science club kids, a girl from yearbook, Clara from literary club. Polite smiles. Quick hellos.

Then they drifted back to Derek.

Jude told himself he didn’t mind.

He watched Derek laugh—real laughter, the kind that pulled people closer. That was what made it sting. Derek never asked for attention. It came anyway.

“Hey, Jude!” Clara called, arms full of books.

He helped her for a moment, grateful for something solid to do. They talked about the club fair, posters, sign-up sheets. Normal things.

But Jude kept looking over her shoulder.

The first bell rang.

Derek jogged back toward him, breathless and smiling.

“Man, this year already feels different,” Derek said. “Like something big’s about to happen.”

Before Jude could respond, the intercom crackled.

“Good morning, Ridgeview High. We’d like to start the year by congratulating our varsity soccer captain, Derek Ortiz—selected for the regional leadership program this fall.”

A ripple of applause rolled through the hallway.

Derek froze.

Then someone shoved him forward. Someone else cheered. Phones came out.

“Dude,” a teammate said, grinning, “you didn’t tell us this.”

Derek laughed, embarrassed. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

The crowd disagreed.

Jude stood still.

He clapped—because everyone else did—but his hands felt slow, heavy. He hadn’t known. Derek hadn’t told him.

Derek turned, eyes scanning—then locking onto Jude.

Their smiles didn’t line up.

“Hey,” Derek said, walking over. “I meant to tell you.”

Jude nodded. “Congrats.”

Another voice cut in. “Party at Tiffany’s on Friday. We’re celebrating.”

Derek didn’t look at Jude this time.

“I’m in,” he said.

The words landed harder than Jude expected.

They started toward the main hallway together—but the rhythm was gone. Derek was pulled ahead by voices and laughter. Jude slowed without meaning to.

By the time Derek glanced back, there was already space between them.

Senior year had begun.

Jude had thought it would be about control—grades, goals, a title waiting at the end.

But standing alone in the hallway, watching Derek disappear into the crowd, he realized something had already shifted.

And whatever senior year was about to become, it wasn’t going to wait for him to catch up.