I Didn't Plan To Fall In Love.

I didn’t plan to fall for anyone. I just wanted to breathe without breaking. But life loves to embarrass strong girls — it gave me him.” They say the beginning of a school year smells like new notebooks, freshly pressed uniforms… and old mistakes. I didn’t believe them until I stepped through the school gates that morning, hugged my bag like it was a shield, and reminded myself of the only rule that mattered: No boys. No love. No heartbreak. Last year had nearly destroyed me. Calvin had. I took a steady breath and ignored the chaos around me — the loud laughter, the cliques forming like hungry birds, the whispers of gossip already floating through the courtyard. I walked straight, eyes lowered, spine stiff. My goals were simple: survive 11th grade, earn the scholarship, make Auntie Mary proud, and rebuild myself quietly. Peace was all I wanted. But peace never lasts where teenagers breathe. “Wendy!” The voice hit me before the arms did. Someone wrapped me from behind with enough force to knock the air out of my lungs. Only one person hugged like she was reclaiming property — Taylor. She spun me around dramatically, hands on her hips. “Bestie! You didn’t even call me yesterday. Am I no longer your human diary?” I laughed despite myself. “I was preparing for school. You know how my aunt is.” “Preparation this? Preparation that,” she scoffed. “Tell her love is allowed inside textbooks too.” My smile faded. “Not for me.” Taylor rolled her eyes so hard I feared they might get stuck. “Ah yes. Wendy the Disciplined. No boys, focus on books, stay invisible, enter heaven by force. We know.” “That’s the plan.” “Plan that destiny will disgrace,” she muttered. I was about to respond when the atmosphere shifted. Excited screams rippled through the courtyard. Phones came out. Girls adjusted hair. Boys suddenly remembered how to lean casually. The golden boy had arrived. Wayne. I didn’t look, but I felt it — the way attention bent toward him like gravity. Perfect grades. Football captain. Rich family. That effortless smile teachers forgave noise for. Girls adored him. Boys wanted to be him. Me? I wanted nothing from him. I kept walking until Taylor gasped and pinched my arm. “Ouch! What now?” “He’s looking at you.” I scoffed. “Stop lying. I don’t want—” “Wallahi,” she whispered urgently. “If eyes could hold somebody, you would have been kidn*pped already.” Against my better judgment, I turned. Wayne stood by a sleek black car, uniform neat, backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. His gaze was fixed on me — steady, unreadable, like he already knew things I hadn’t said out loud. Those eyes weren’t curious. They were sure. My breath stuttered. I looked away instantly. “No. Not again,” I muttered. “Not my life.” Taylor giggled. “This year will be sweet.” “It won’t,” I said firmly. “He doesn’t even know me.” “Wendy,” she whispered. “He’s walking toward us.” My heart began to race like it was planning an escape. Footsteps stopped in front of me. “Hi.” His voice was calm. Deep. Dangerous to a heart still healing. “Hi,” I replied. “I’m Wayne.” “I know.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “And you’re Wendy. The girl who doesn’t talk to anyone.” I blinked. “Who told you that?” “No one,” he said. “I noticed.” “I don’t want to be noticed.” Something softened in his expression, like he heard the pain beneath my words. “Too late,” he said quietly. Before I could respond, a shout sliced through the air. “Wendy!” My body froze. Calvin. Of course. The past always arrives when the future starts smiling. Taylor grabbed my hand. “Ah. Today will be a movie.” I stood there, heart pounding. New attention. Old wounds. One boy walking toward me. Another staring like he already owned my memories. And in that moment, I knew one thing for sure: My peace was gone.