THE REWRITE || Mystery Romance

Hello College Challenges

A week later...

The moment I stepped onto the campus, the heat hit me first, thick, humid air clinging to my skin. The salty scent of the sea drifted faintly on the breeze, a constant reminder that this was not a towering city university, but a humble island college.

The courtyard buzzed with energy. Laughter echoed in pockets of students catching up after summer break. Flip-flops and sneakers slapped against the concrete while folders and envelopes flapped noisily in their hands. Staff voices rang across the chaos:

"Freshmen, line up here for verification!"

"Don't forget to photocopy your forms, no requirements, no entry!"

I tightened my grip on my brown envelope, my palms already damp. This was it, my first step into college.

The line moved slowly, giving me too much time to look around. Faded tarpaulins announcing last year's foundation week drooped from the walls. A large bulletin board stood near the entrance, plastered with class schedules, scholarship announcements, and bold-colored flyers of organizations recruiting new members.

"Join the Dance Troupe!" one flyer read, decorated with glittery stickers.

Another one shouted, "Campus Journalists Wanted - Writers, Artists, Photographers!"

I almost smiled. Clubs, orgs, activities. A new world trying to pull us all in.

The girl in front of me turned around, her smile easy and warm. "First year too?" she asked.

"Yes," I said softly, shifting my envelope.

She chuckled. "Good luck to us, then. They say enrollment here takes forever. Like, bring food and water kind of forever."

A faint laugh escaped my lips. "Noted."

Behind us, two boys bickered like brothers.

"Bro, you forgot your photocopy again? That's like your fifth trip!"

"Man, the print shop's gonna know me by name before this is over."

The people around us chuckled. For a moment, the air felt lighter. Even I managed to smirk.

When my turn finally came, I stepped up to the registrar's window. The staff didn't even glance at me.

"Name?" she asked flatly.

"Leyanne Ramos."

"Course?"

"Education," I answered, forcing the word out.

Not Architecture. Never Architecture.

She stamped a paper, shoved it back to me, and waved me off with a tired, "Next!"

And just like that, it was done.

Enrollment - this big step into my future was reduced to a pile of papers, signatures, and stamps.

I stepped aside, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. Around me, the noise of the campus swelled again, students laughing, instructors calling reminders, chairs scraping across classroom floors.

"Hey, are you joining any clubs?" the girl from earlier asked, appearing beside me again.

"I'm... not sure yet."

"Well, if you're into writing, you should try the school paper," she said brightly. "They're looking for new staff."

I nodded politely, but inside, I wasn't certain. Writing was never my dream, but maybe it could be something.

Maybe.

Still, I whispered to myself,

At least I'm here. At least I get to keep moving.

I had just stepped out of the campus gate, relieved that enrollment was finally over. My envelope of documents felt heavier than it really was, maybe because it carried the weight of reality. I was officially a college student now.

And then I froze.

Right there, leaning casually against the gate, was Jake Abella. His grin was wide, like he'd been waiting for me the whole time.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I'm going to the city tomorrow. I'm not sure when I can come back here, so..." His smile softened. "I decided to see you."

For a second, I didn't know what to say. My chest tightened, and all I managed was a small, "Oh."

We ended up walking to a small snack house near the campus, the one painted in faded yellow with plastic chairs and the smell of fried food drifting from the kitchen. The air was thick with the sound of chatter, spoons clinking against plates, and the occasional burst of laughter from a group of students at the corner table.

Jake pulled out a chair for me before plopping down across the table, grinning like he owned the place. "So, Ms. College Girl, how does it feel to officially be a freshman?"

I rolled my eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "Don't call me that. It feels... the same, honestly. Just papers, signatures, and a headache."

"Ah," he said, leaning back dramatically. "So all those years of sleepless nights, quizzes, and terror teachers led to this grand moment... of paperwork."

I chuckled quietly. "Pretty much."

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. His eyes sparkled with that playful glint I'd grown used to. "Don't worry, Bhest. Soon you'll be running this place. President of the campus or something."

"Me?" I scoffed softly. "I can barely survive enrollment. How do you expect me to lead an entire school?"

Jake grinned wider. "You not underestimate yourself. Cold on the outside, but secretly sweet. That's leadership material."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Stop making things up."

"I'm not making it up," he said, shrugging. "You're serious, yes, but when you care about people, you really care. That's why you'll do great here, even if you don't see it yet."

For a second, I didn't know what to say. Compliments weren't really my thing. So instead, I busied myself with the menu.

"Do you want fries?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

He smirked knowingly but didn't tease me about it. "Of course. And maybe a burger too. I need all the energy before I leave for the city tomorrow."

At the mention of his leaving, something in my chest tightened. I tried to ignore it, tried to sound casual. "Right. You're really going tomorrow?"

He nodded, the playful grin softening. "Yeah. Not sure when I'll be back. That's why I wanted to see you today."

I stared at the table for a moment, tracing circles on the laminated surface with my fingertip. "I see."

Jake tilted his head, studying me. "Hey, don't give me that serious face. We'll still talk, you know. Call, text, video chat, technology exists for a reason."

I gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I know. But it won't be the same and you forgot I didn't have my own phone yet."

He reached over and tapped my forehead lightly with his finger. "That's why we're making this moment count. Fries, burgers, and all."

I let out a soft laugh despite myself. "Fine. Just don't hog all the fries."

"No promises, Bhestie." He winked.

And just like that, in the middle of the noise and greasy air of that little snack house, I felt both the heaviness of his coming departure and the warmth of his presence. It was bittersweet, like holding on and letting go at the same time.

We talked for hours, nonsense, old memories, little jokes. The snack house grew louder as the afternoon stretched on, but it felt like we were in our own bubble. Jake kept making me laugh, even when my chest felt heavy knowing this could be the last time for a while.

He leaned back in his chair, smirking as he dipped another fry into ketchup. "You know, Bhest, you should smile more. People might actually mistake you for being unfriendly."

I raised an eyebrow. "I am friendly."

He snorted. "Friendly? You? Please. Half the time, you look like you're about to scold someone for existing."

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth betrayed me with a small smile. "Maybe I just don't waste energy on people who don't matter."

Jake pointed at me with his fry like it was proof of something. "See? That's exactly what I mean. Cold and scary."

I crossed my arms. "And yet, here you are, still eating my fries."

He grinned, popping the fry into his mouth. "Because deep down, you're secretly sweet. Admit it, you let me steal them because you care."

I shook my head, hiding the warmth that threatened to show on my face. "Or maybe I'm just too tired to fight with a child."

Jake laughed, the sound so carefree it made the heaviness in my chest ache even more. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "You'll miss me when I'm gone."

I met his eyes for a second before looking away. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Come on, Ley," he teased, nudging my hand gently. "You'll miss me. Who else is going to annoy you every day? Who else is going to eat your fries and make you roll your eyes?"

I tried to keep my voice steady. "I'll manage."

But he only smiled, softer this time. "I know you will. You're stronger than you think."

The words lingered between us, unspoken things hiding beneath his playful grin. And even as I scolded him for reaching for another fry, I couldn't help but think, maybe he was right. Maybe I would miss this more than I wanted to admit.

It was like we were trying to squeeze every second dry, as if tomorrow might take it all away.

When the sky turned orange and the streetlights began to glow, Jake insisted on walking me home. He carried my envelope even though I told him I could manage. Typical Jake, always doing things his way.

As we walked, he swung the envelope like it weighed nothing. "You know, Bhest, if I weren't here, you'd probably drop this in a puddle or lose it to the wind."

I gave him a flat look. "I'm not that careless."

He grinned. "Not careless, just... distracted. Always thinking too much."

"I'd rather think too much than not at all," I replied, adjusting the strap of my bag.

Jake chuckled, shaking his head. "There you go again, serious mode activated. You should lighten up sometimes, Ley. Life's too short to keep frowning."

I sighed, though a faint smile tugged at my lips. "And you should take things seriously at least once in your life."

"That's why we're perfect," he said without missing a beat. "I annoy you, you scold me, and somehow, it works."

I didn't answer, but my silence said enough. He always knew how to make things feel lighter, even when I didn't want to admit it.

For a moment, I let myself stay there, holding on to the comfort I didn't know I needed.

"Take care, Bhest," he murmured, his voice low but clear.

I didn't hug him back right away. My throat tightened, and when I finally raised my arms, it felt like holding onto something I wasn't ready to let go of.

But Jake pulled away with that familiar smile of his, the kind that always hid more than it showed, and started walking down the street.

I stood there, watching his back as it grew smaller with each step. My hand lingered on the gate, but I didn't open it just yet.

One last glance. One last moment.

Then I whispered to myself, "See you... whenever that will be."

Only then did I finally step inside.

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that settles after a long day. In my room, I placed the envelope on my desk and carefully slid out the documents, the stamped forms, the receipts, the papers that now carried my name as an official college student.

I traced the bold letters of my course with my fingertips. A new chapter. A path I didn't fully choose, but one I had to walk.

Lying back on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, the faint hum of cicadas drifting through the window. The thought pressed into me slowly, deeply.

High school was truly over. This was real.

I was finally, officially in college.

And no matter how uncertain it felt, there was no turning back now.