The Distance Between
1571 Words
The classroom felt smaller today.
Or maybe it was just Pearl, shrinking inside herself.
She sat at her desk, chin resting in her palm, half-listening as Mr. Hawthorne droned on about European revolutions. Every now and then, her eyes would flicker sideways — to the seat two rows across — where Prince Ellington lounged back like he had not a care in the world.
Except he wasn’t lounging today.
He kept glancing at her.
Sharp. Questioning.
Pearl shifted in her seat, her chest tightening. Since the library, she hadn't been able to meet his eyes properly. She hadn't said anything either. What would she even say?
"Hey, Prince. I found an old photograph in a dusty book that made my stomach fall through the floor because it might mean our families are tied up in something ugly and dangerous?"
Yeah. That would go over well.
She scribbled aimless notes, pretending to focus.
It was better this way. Safer. She needed time.
"Ms. Donovan," Mr. Hawthorne’s voice snapped through the haze.
Pearl startled. "Yes, sir?"
"Can you tell us the significance of the 1848 uprisings?"
A few students snickered. Prince’s head turned fully toward her now, the crease between his eyebrows deepening.
Pearl swallowed hard and forced out an answer — something vague but passable. Mr. Hawthorne grunted in acceptance and moved on.
She exhaled slowly, heat creeping up her neck.
The rest of the period blurred. When the bell finally rang, she packed her things in record time, ready to flee. But as she slung her bag over her shoulder and bolted for the door, a hand caught her wrist.
"Pearl," Prince’s voice was low, urgent. "Can we talk?"
She froze. Every instinct screamed to run.
Instead, she shook her head. "Not right now."
"But—"
"I said no," she cut him off, pulling away.
He stared after her as she disappeared into the crowded hallway.
The city air hit her like a slap.
It was colder today, the gray sky hanging low over the skyline like a warning.
Pearl walked fast, hands buried deep into the pockets of her jacket, weaving through the after-school rush. The ache in her chest grew heavier with each step.
She hated this.
The distance.
The wall she was building between them.
But what choice did she have? She had seen something she couldn’t unsee. A photograph of Nathaniel Ellington — Prince’s father — and a woman who looked terrifyingly like her own mother. Arms around each other. Smiling like they shared a secret the world wasn’t supposed to know.
She turned a corner and nearly collided with Ava.
"Whoa, slow down, killer," Ava laughed, steadying her. "You okay?"
Pearl managed a tight smile. "Yeah. Just... tired."
Ava narrowed her eyes. "You’ve been off all day. Spill."
"Nothing to spill."
Ava gave her a look that said she wasn’t buying it, but she let it go. "Alright. But you're coming with me to get coffee. No arguments."
Pearl almost said no. Almost said she needed to be alone.
But the thought of sitting in her room, drowning in thoughts of Prince and secrets and photographs, made her chest constrict.
"Fine," she said. "Coffee sounds good."
---
They ended up at a cozy little café three blocks from campus, the kind with mismatched chairs and indie music playing softly through dusty speakers.
Pearl wrapped her hands around a steaming cup of chai and tried to focus on Ava’s chatter about prom dresses and college applications.
But her mind kept drifting.
To Prince.
To the hurt in his eyes when she pulled away.
She wasn’t being fair. He didn’t know what she had found. He didn’t deserve to be punished for something he hadn’t even done.
And yet…
Her instincts told her to be careful.
The Ellingtons weren’t just rich — they were powerful. Connected. Dangerous, maybe.
Was she really ready to wade into that storm?
Or worse — to drag her heart into something that could destroy her?
"You’re not even listening," Ava said, breaking into her thoughts.
"Sorry," Pearl said. "Just a lot on my mind."
Ava studied her. "Is this about Prince?"
Pearl stiffened.
"I knew it," Ava said smugly. Then her voice softened. "Look, I get it. He’s... a lot. But maybe you should give him a chance."
Pearl stared down into her cup. "It’s not that simple."
"Maybe it is," Ava said. "You like him. He clearly likes you. Don’t overthink it."
Pearl smiled sadly. If only Ava knew how complicated things really were.
---
Later, walking home alone, Pearl made a decision.
She couldn’t avoid Prince forever.
She needed answers.
She needed to know the truth — about the photograph, about their families — before she could figure out what to do with her heart.
Tomorrow.
She would talk to him tomorrow.
No more running.
---
The next morning, she found him outside the school courtyard, leaning against the wrought iron fence, tapping his foot impatiently. He straightened the second he saw her.
Pearl's heart pounded painfully in her chest.
"Hey," she said, voice small.
Prince looked at her like she was the only person in the world.
"Hey."
They stood there, awkwardly, the noise of the school blurring into the background.
"I’m sorry," Pearl said finally. "For running."
Prince exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. "Just... talk to me, Pearl. Tell me what’s going on."
Pearl hesitated.
Then—
"Not here," she said. "After school. Meet me at the bridge."
Prince nodded. No hesitation.
"Whatever you need," he said softly.
And for the first time in days, Pearl allowed herself to hope.
The bridge was old — a crumbling stone arch at the far edge of town, just where the city started giving way to the woods. It used to be a meeting spot for kids skipping class or sneaking beers, but today it was just Pearl, Prince, and the heavy gray sky stretching above them.
Pearl arrived first.
She leaned against the railing, staring down at the slow-moving creek below, feeling the cold creep into her bones.
Footsteps crunched the gravel behind her.
"You came," she said without turning.
"You asked," Prince replied simply.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Pearl turned, facing him fully.
He looked tired. Shadows under his eyes. His hands jammed deep into his jacket pockets, his whole body tense like he was bracing for impact.
Pearl drew a breath.
Steady. Careful.
"I found something," she said. "At the library."
Prince frowned. "Okay..."
"It was a photograph." Her fingers twisted nervously in her jacket hem. "Of your dad. And a woman."
Prince’s face didn’t change. But his body went stiller, somehow.
"A woman who looks... a lot like my mom," Pearl finished.
Silence stretched between them.
Prince stepped closer, slow and cautious, like she was a skittish animal that might bolt.
"Pearl," he said carefully. "What exactly did you see?"
She pulled the photo from her pocket — she had stuffed it into a notebook, too scared to leave it at home where her mom might find it. She held it out.
Prince took it.
His eyes scanned it — once, twice — and his jaw tightened.
"You recognize her," Pearl said, voice shaking.
"I—" Prince scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I don’t know. I mean, I know my dad had... relationships before he married my mom. But I don’t know anything about this."
Pearl searched his face. "You swear?"
"I swear," he said, fierce and low. "I would never lie to you about something like this."
Pearl wanted to believe him.
God, she did believe him.
But it didn’t change the fact that the photo existed. That there were things about their families neither of them knew.
"What does it mean?" she whispered.
Prince shook his head, helpless. "I don’t know. But we’ll find out. Together."
She blinked at him, throat tightening.
"You’re not scared?" she said.
He gave a rough laugh. "I’m terrified. But I’m not letting you face this alone."
Pearl's heart thudded painfully.
She reached for the photo again — but as she did, a gust of wind ripped it from Prince's fingers. The paper fluttered wildly, and before either of them could react, it sailed over the edge of the bridge — and into the creek below.
"No!" Pearl cried, rushing to the railing.
But it was already too late. The water carried it away, shrinking into a distant speck before disappearing entirely.
They stared after it, stunned.
Prince cursed under his breath. "Dammit."
Pearl pressed her hands to her face, fighting tears.
That photo — their only tangible proof — gone.
Prince touched her shoulder, gently. "Hey. It’s okay."
"It’s not," she said brokenly. "That was all we had."
"No," he said firmly. "We have us. We have the truth. And whatever happens next — we’ll figure it out."
Pearl looked up at him.
For the first time, she saw not just the hot, reckless boy everyone else saw.
She saw the man underneath — brave, stubborn, fiercely loyal.
And maybe... maybe that was enough.
At least for now.
Pearl nodded, wiping her eyes. "Okay. Together."
Prince smiled, small and real. "Together."
The wind howled around them, cold and wild.
But somehow, standing there with him, Pearl felt a little less alone.
A little less afraid.
And somewhere deep inside her, a spark lit — the first flicker of something new.
Hope.
- Writer
