BLACK AND WHITE

Chapter One Baibyy The first day of junior year was never supposed to be this nerve-wracking for Vanessa. Usually, she moved through the halls like a ghost — quiet, invisible, careful not to draw attention. But today, the familiar hum of Westbrook High felt different. Electric. Like something was waiting to happen. Vanessa adjusted the strap of her backpack, glancing nervously around as students shoved past her in every direction. The chatter buzzed, lockers slammed, and the sharp scent of freshly waxed floors filled the air. She shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets and tried to focus on the lock on her locker, but the knot in her stomach twisted tighter. And then she saw him. Derrick King. He was standing by the art wing, back against the wall, eyes lowered as he sketched in that little notebook he carried everywhere. His curls fell forward in a way that made Vanessa’s heart catch—soft, messy, effortless. His lips curved in a half-smile as his pencil danced across the page, the kind of smile that didn’t demand attention but somehow got it anyway. Vanessa’s breath hitched. Her fingers fumbled with her locker combination. *Get it together*, she told herself. Her eyes darted to his face again. For a fleeting second, he looked up. Their eyes locked. His smile deepened—warm, genuine—and Vanessa felt like the world had suddenly slowed down. She turned away too fast, cheeks burning, pretending to be busy with her locker when really, her heart was pounding like a drum in her ears. “Hey, Vanessa!” The voice jolted her. Amaka, her best friend since freshman year, was marching toward her, full of energy and that infectious grin that never faded. “Day one and you’re already spacing out? Come on, girl, focus,” Amaka teased, tugging Vanessa’s arm. Vanessa laughed nervously. “I’m fine.” “Yeah, sure you are.” Amaka’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Who’s the cute guy by the art room? Spill.” Vanessa groaned but couldn’t hide her smile. “Derrick,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Amaka raised her eyebrows in approval. “Ohhh, baibyyy, you got a crush. I knew it.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, but inside, a tiny flutter of hope warmed her chest. Maybe this year, something could change. **** The lunch bell rang, and Vanessa found herself sitting alone near the big window overlooking the football field. She pulled out her sketchbook, a habit she’d kept since middle school, and began to doodle absentmindedly. The cafeteria buzzed around her, but Vanessa felt wrapped in a bubble of quiet. Her pencil traced soft curves, capturing the way sunlight streamed through the window, casting golden patches on the table. Suddenly, a shadow fell over her pages. “Mind if I sit?” Vanessa looked up to see Derrick standing there, holding a tray with a sandwich and an apple. His smile was shy but steady. “Sure,” she said, heart thudding. He sat down beside her, carefully balancing his food. “I saw you drawing,” he said, nodding toward her sketchbook. Vanessa shrugged. “Just passing time.” “No way. Your art’s good.” He flipped open the book, eyes scanning the pages. “Thanks,” Vanessa whispered. They started talking about everything and nothing — favorite songs, weird teachers, dreams for the future. Vanessa was surprised at how easy it felt to talk to him, like they’d known each other for years instead of days. “So, what’s your favorite band?” Derrick asked, his eyes curious. Vanessa grinned. “Depends on my mood. Right now, probably The 1975.” “No way! Me too.” He pulled out his phone and showed her a playlist. They laughed, shared earbuds, and for a moment, the noisy cafeteria faded away. **** Days later, Vanessa’s phone buzzed just as she was about to fall asleep. *Derrick: Baibyyy, you awake?* Her heart skipped. She typed back quickly. *Vanessa: Yeah, just finishing homework.* *Derrick: Wish I was there to help.* *Vanessa: You’re the only distraction I need.* He replied immediately. *Derrick: Smooth talker.* Vanessa’s lips curled into a shy smile. She stared at the screen, the word *baibyyy* echoing in her mind like a secret code meant only for her. . **** The following weekend, the sun spilled golden light over Westbrook as Vanessa waited nervously by the old oak tree near the art wing. Derrick arrived, hands shoved into his pockets, smile crooked and genuine. “Hey,” he said softly. “Hey,” she replied. They sat side by side on the bench, sharing a playlist Derrick had made. The music wrapped around them — slow, intimate songs that felt like a soundtrack for new beginnings. Vanessa glanced at Derrick. He was watching her, eyes warm, full of something she couldn’t quite name. “I like you,” he said suddenly, voice low but steady. Vanessa’s heart hammered. “I like you too,” she whispered. His hand found hers, fingers intertwining. The world around them softened, the first blush of something real sparking between them. **** Over the next weeks, their connection grew — in shared jokes, late-night texts, and quiet moments in the school library where their knees brushed under the table. Vanessa began to believe in love — the kind that felt like butterflies, like soft sunshine after a storm. One afternoon, Amaka caught Vanessa daydreaming during class. “Girl, you’re glowing,” she whispered with a knowing smile. Vanessa just smiled back, warmth spreading through her chest. For the first time in a long time, love felt possible. **** Vanessa’s world had started to tilt in a new direction, one she hadn’t expected. Each day seemed to hold a small thrill — the ping of Derrick’s text, the accidental touch of his hand, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. It was as if the walls she had built around her heart were softening, little cracks appearing to let in something bright and new. But it wasn’t all easy. Vanessa still felt that familiar tug of fear — what if she was wrong? What if this feeling was just a trick her heart was playing? **** One Thursday afternoon after class, Vanessa and Amaka walked slowly down the hallway. “So, spill,” Amaka teased, elbowing her gently. “What’s the deal with Derrick? He’s cute and all, but I heard he’s a bit of a wild card.” Vanessa frowned. “Wild card?” “Yeah, you know — the guy who jokes around a lot, never takes anything seriously. Sometimes he can be… unpredictable.” Vanessa chewed on her lip. She had noticed his carefree attitude but hadn’t thought much of it. “Maybe that’s just how he deals with things.” Amaka gave her a pointed look. “Or maybe he’s just not ready to be serious about anything — including you.” Vanessa shook her head. “I don’t know. When he looks at me… it feels real.” Amaka raised an eyebrow. “Just watch yourself, girl. Don’t get too caught up.” Vanessa smiled weakly. “I’m not planning to. I’m careful.” Amaka laughed. “You say that now.” **** Later that week, Vanessa found herself sitting on the bleachers after soccer practice, nursing a water bottle and replaying her conversation with Amaka. Her phone buzzed. *Derrick: Meet me by the art wing after school?* Her heart jumped. She quickly typed back: *On my way.* When she arrived, Derrick was waiting by the old oak tree, his sketchbook tucked under one arm. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, and the cool breeze tugged at Vanessa’s hair. “Hey,” he greeted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey,” she replied, trying to sound casual. Derrick pulled out the sketchbook and flipped to a page she hadn’t seen before. It was a detailed drawing of her — the way her hair fell across her forehead, the soft curve of her smile. Vanessa blinked. “That’s... really good.” He shrugged. “I’m good at noticing details.” They talked about the drawing — how he captured the small things that most people missed. Vanessa felt her cheeks flush. “You see me,” she whispered. “Yeah,” Derrick said softly. “I do.” **** As the weeks passed, Vanessa’s feelings grew deeper, tangled with nervous excitement and a hint of uncertainty. She loved how Derrick made her laugh, how his jokes could turn a bad day into something bearable. But sometimes, his carefree mask slipped, and she caught glimpses of something more complicated beneath. One rainy afternoon, they huddled under the awning of the school entrance, sharing an umbrella as droplets drummed around them. “Do you ever feel like you’re pretending?” Vanessa asked quietly. Derrick looked at her, surprised. “Pretending?” “Like, hiding the real you from the world.” He sighed. “Maybe. I guess sometimes it’s easier to joke around than to show what’s really going on inside.” Vanessa nodded. “Yeah. I get that.” For a moment, they just stood there, rain blurring the world around them. **** One Saturday night, Vanessa lay in bed, scrolling through old photos on her phone. There was a picture of her and Amaka from freshman year — wide smiles, carefree. Another of Derrick laughing during a school event, his eyes sparkling. She texted Amaka: *Do you think love really exists?* Amaka replied almost instantly: *It’s messy. But yeah, I think so.* Vanessa smiled and put her phone down. Maybe love wasn’t about perfection. Maybe it was about moments like these — awkward, beautiful, fragile. **** **The next day, at school, Vanessa was caught off guard during lunch.** Derrick slid into the seat across from her, a cheeky grin on his face. “Got something for you,” he said, pulling out a small box wrapped in crumpled brown paper. Vanessa blinked, heart pounding. “For me?” He nodded. “Open it.” Inside was a simple silver necklace with a tiny charm shaped like a star. “Why?” Vanessa asked softly. “Because you’re the brightest thing I’ve seen in a long time,” Derrick said, his voice low. Vanessa’s breath caught. She reached out and took his hand. **** **But even as the newness of their connection warmed Vanessa’s heart, she couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease.** One afternoon, she spotted Derrick across the hall, talking to Maya Martinez — the popular girl with the perfect smile and the confidence Vanessa secretly envied. They laughed together, Maya’s hand resting lightly on Derrick’s arm. Vanessa’s chest tightened. Was she just imagining things? She tried to tell herself it didn’t mean anything. But the seed of doubt had been planted. **** **That night, Vanessa lay awake, replaying the scene over and over.** *Why does it hurt so much?* She wished she could tell Amaka but felt too ashamed. The innocence of first love was beginning to c***k.