My Last Year

The Transfer Student

I blinked once. Then twice.

No.

It couldn’t be him.

Not here. Not in Evermore High.

Not even in my classroom.

“Conrad Fisher,” he repeated, his voice calm, magnetic, and heartbreakingly familiar. He stood at the front of the class like he belonged there, his confidence filling the room the same way the ocean breeze used to fill the nights at Cousin’s Beach.

My breath hitched. My fingers tightened around my pencil until the tip snapped against the page.

Conrad.

The boy who kissed me under fireworks.

The boy who made me believe in first love.

The boy who disappeared without a word.

And now he was standing right here.

Mrs. Smith, strict and sharp-eyed, gestured toward the seat beside me. “Please sit next to Lily. She’s one of the brightest kids in this class.”

The class chuckled under their breath at that, but all I felt was my pulse hammering against my skin. I wanted to disappear, crawl under my desk, anything but face him.

Conrad’s eyes scanned the room until they landed on me. That same soft, devastating smile curved across his lips. He walked slowly, deliberately, and when he slid into the seat beside me, his shoulder brushed mine.

“Hey, Lily,” he said, his voice low, warm, almost teasing. “Long time no see.”

I froze. My lungs forgot how to work.

He remembered me.

Flashback – Two Months Ago

Late July. Cousin’s Beach, California.

The sun was slipping beneath the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. The air smelled of salt, sunscreen, and bonfire smoke. I sat alone with my sketchbook, my knees tucked under my chin, trying to capture the sunset on paper.

No one had ever complimented my sketches. Not once.

But then, his voice.

“This might be the most beautiful sketch of the sky I’ve ever seen.”

I turned, startled, and found him there. Conrad Fisher. Tall, sun-kissed skin, messy curls, and that smile. The kind of smile that made you think time could stop and you wouldn’t even care.

“You’re pulling my leg,” I muttered, embarrassed, ducking my head.

But he only laughed softly and sat down beside me.

That evening stretched into hours of barefoot walks in the sand, quiet laughter around the fire, sharing snacks, and talking about everything and nothing. His presence felt easy, natural, like we’d known each other forever instead of just existing on the edges of each other’s summers.

And then fireworks.

Before the first spark lit the night sky, he reached for my hand, lifted it gently, and pressed a kiss to the back of it. My heart nearly burst out of my chest.

“Go on a date with me?” he asked, his voice tender but confident.

I froze, panic and excitement colliding inside me. No one had ever asked me that before. Not once.

“Are you okay?” he asked when I stayed silent. “Did I say something wrong?”

I shook my head quickly, cheeks burning. “No… no, you didn’t.”

“So?” His eyes searched mine.

I couldn’t resist. Not with that smile. Not with the way his gaze made me feel like the only girl on the beach.

“Yes,” I whispered, blushing furiously. “I’ll go.”

He laughed, his whole face lighting up. That smile I could have drowned in it.

The rest of the night was a blur of whispered words and shy laughter. At one point I caught myself saying, “Conrad, if you smile like that, I’ll never be able to leave this place.”

I hadn’t meant for him to hear. But he did.

“Well,” he said, eyes sparkling, “maybe you don’t have to.”

We stayed like that, lying under the stars, our fingers intertwined. It felt like paradise. Like forever.

Later, when we met for our “date,” I wore a red dress that fluttered around my knees. He showed up in a black suit, looking so effortlessly handsome that every girl at the beach stopped to stare. But his eyes never left me.

“Wow,” he whispered. “You look… beautiful.”

It was my first time anyone had said that to me.

And then under the crackle of fireworks, the ocean crashing behind us he kissed me.

Soft. Gentle. Perfect.

My first kiss.

And just when I thought summer could last forever

It ended.

He left.

No number. No message. No explanation. Nothing but silence.

Back to Present

And now here he was. Sitting beside me. Smiling like no time had passed.

“You?” I finally managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.

He leaned closer, his voice soft enough that only I could hear. “Yeah. Small world, huh?”

My mind spun. Jake Bennett, the boy who humiliated me, who made high school a nightmare, was sitting behind me. And Conrad Fisher, the boy who stole my heart and vanished was sitting right beside me.

It was like the universe was playing a cruel joke.

“You look different,” Conrad said after a moment, his eyes studying me. “But still the same too. Still beautiful.”

Beautiful.

The word rang in my ears, hot and dizzying.

Behind me, Jake’s locker slammed shut. He chuckled low, sharp, the sound dripping with mockery. I didn’t even have to turn around to know he’d heard.

Mrs. Smith began her lecture, but her voice was nothing more than static in the background. I couldn’t focus. Not when I was caught between two storms.

Behind me—Jake, my worst memory.

Beside me—Conrad, my sweetest dream.

And me?

I was trapped between them.

Between two different worlds.

Conrad leaned in, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear.

“Lily,” he murmured, his voice so soft it made my heart stutter. “We need to talk. About that night.”

My stomach dropped. My pencil slipped from my fingers and clattered against the desk.

Jake’s chuckle echoed behind me.

And I realized this was only the beginning.