CHAPTER 3: The First Variable
1959 Words
There are moments in life when everything suddenly makes sense.
And then there are moments when everything you thought you understood falls apart.
That afternoon, I experienced both.
At first, I thought the message was a joke.
Then I saw the photograph.
Then the note.
And finally, I saw the equation.
My equation.
Written in my handwriting.
Even though I had no memory of writing it.
I sat alone on a bench outside the café, staring at my notebook.
The page was almost completely blank.
Except for three names.
JOSH.
EZEKIEL.
MICHAEL.
Underneath them, I had written:
Love = ?
I stared at the question mark.
“Okay.”
I took a deep breath.
“Let's think logically.”
That was what I always did when things became complicated.
Think.
Analyze.
Find the problem.
Find the cause.
Find the solution.
Simple.
I picked up my pen.
Maybe the messages were from someone who knew us.
Maybe the photograph was taken yesterday, and I simply didn't remember it.
Maybe I was tired.
Maybe I had somehow forgotten an entire conversation.
That was possible.
People forget things.
Right?
I nodded to myself.
“Exactly.”
Then I looked at the photograph again.
Something bothered me.
I zoomed in.
There we were.
Josh.
Ezekiel.
Michael.
Me.
But there was something else.
A shadow behind us.
A person standing near the entrance of the café.
I zoomed in again.
The image became blurry.
But the person was definitely there.
And they were holding something.
A piece of paper.
I couldn't read it clearly.
I zoomed in again.
Nothing.
“Great.”
I sighed.
“Now I'm investigating blurry people.”
My phone vibrated.
I nearly dropped it.
Another message.
Unknown number.
I hesitated before opening it.
Unknown:
You shouldn't have looked.
My heart started beating faster.
I typed:
Me:
Who are you?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then—
Unknown:
Ask yourself why you forgot.
I stared at the screen.
My fingers became cold.
I typed again.
Me:
Forgot what?
The response came immediately.
Unknown:
The beginning.
I frowned.
The beginning?
Before I could reply, another message appeared.
Unknown:
You have already met them.
I looked at the three names in my notebook.
Josh.
Ezekiel.
Michael.
Then another message.
Unknown:
But not in the order you think.
I stopped breathing.
“What does that even mean?”
The screen went black.
My phone died.
“Seriously?”
I pressed the power button.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
I sighed.
“Perfect.”
I closed my notebook.
I was going home.
That was it.
No more mysterious messages.
No more photographs.
No more weird dreams.
And definitely no more thinking about three boys who somehow seemed to know more about my life than I did.
I stood.
Then I heard a voice behind me.
“Elle.”
I turned.
Michael.
He was standing a few steps away.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
He looked at me.
“You don't look okay.”
“I just need to go home.”
He walked closer.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I shook my head.
“I'm fine.”
He didn't move.
“Elle.”
“What?”
“You don't have to pretend with me.”
I looked away.
That was Michael.
He always did that.
He always knew.
I sighed.
“I don't know what's happening.”
He sat beside me.
“Neither do I.”
I looked at him.
“You don't?”
He shook his head.
“But I know one thing.”
“What?”
“You're not alone.”
For some reason, those four words hurt.
I looked down.
“Thank you.”
He smiled.
“Anytime.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he stood.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“I'll walk you home.”
“I said I'm fine.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
He shrugged.
“Because I want to.”
I looked at him.
And smiled.
“Okay.”
We started walking.
Neither of us noticed the figure standing across the street.
Watching.
---
The First Variable
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
My room was quiet.
Too quiet.
I checked my phone.
Still dead.
I plugged it in.
Nothing.
I turned over.
Closed my eyes.
Opened them again.
The dream came back.
Three boys.
Three names.
One question.
Choose.
I shook my head.
“No.”
I sat up.
“I'm not doing this.”
I grabbed my notebook.
Maybe writing would help.
I flipped to the page.
Then froze.
The equation was different.
I knew it had been:
Josh
Ezekiel
Michael
Love = ?
But now there was something underneath it.
Something I hadn't written.
I leaned closer.
My handwriting.
Definitely mine.
But I didn't remember writing it.
It said:
3 VARIABLES
1 UNKNOWN
3 CHANCES
I swallowed.
“What?”
Then, slowly, another line appeared.
I watched.
The ink moved.
Not metaphorically.
It actually moved.
The letters began forming by themselves.
I dropped the pen.
“No.”
The page continued changing.
FIRST VARIABLE: JOSH
My heart started pounding.
The lights in my room flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the entire room went dark.
I froze.
“Okay.”
I whispered.
“This is not normal.”
The notebook began glowing faintly.
I backed away.
The pages started turning by themselves.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
I reached for it.
The moment my fingers touched the page—
Everything stopped.
Silence.
Then I heard a voice.
A whisper.
My own voice.
“Start again.”
I gasped.
The room disappeared.
---
I was falling.
Not physically.
Not exactly.
It felt like falling through water.
Through memories.
Through years.
Faces flashed before my eyes.
Josh.
Ezekiel.
Michael.
Then younger versions of them.
A younger me.
Church.
School.
Classrooms.
A debate stage.
A hallway.
A rainy afternoon.
Michael standing alone.
Ezekiel holding an exam paper.
Josh carrying a chair inside a church.
Everything moved too fast.
I tried to scream.
Nothing came out.
Then I heard the voice again.
“Three variables.”
The images stopped.
“Three beginnings.”
A bright light appeared.
“One answer.”
I closed my eyes.
Then—
I hit the ground.
---
I opened my eyes.
The ceiling was white.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Where was I?
I sat up.
The room looked familiar.
But different.
There was a wooden cabinet beside me.
A small desk.
A school bag.
A calendar.
I looked at it.
My heart stopped.
JUNE 12, 2017.
“No.”
I jumped out of bed.
I looked around.
This wasn't my university dorm.
It wasn't my current room.
It was my old bedroom.
The bedroom I had when I was fifteen.
I ran toward the mirror.
My reflection stared back at me.
I touched my face.
My hair.
My cheeks.
My hands.
I looked younger.
Much younger.
“No.”
I stumbled backward.
“This isn't possible.”
I grabbed my phone.
It was an old model.
My old phone.
The one I had forgotten about years ago.
I turned it on.
The date appeared.
June 12, 2017.
My breathing became shallow.
I looked at the calendar again.
Then at myself.
Then back at the calendar.
“I'm fifteen.”
My knees became weak.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“How?”
There was no answer.
I looked at my notebook.
It was still beside me.
I opened it.
The page was blank.
Then slowly, words appeared.
FIRST VARIABLE.
I stared.
Underneath it:
JOSH.
Then another line.
BEGIN AGAIN.
I shook my head.
“No.”
The page changed.
THREE TIMES.
I swallowed.
“Three times what?”
The answer appeared.
THREE MEETINGS.
My heart stopped.
I remembered.
Josh.
Church.
Three meetings.
My first crush.
The crush I eventually lost.
The boy everyone liked.
The boy I thought I had forgotten.
I looked at the calendar.
June 12.
Sunday.
My eyes widened.
“Today…”
I rushed to the window.
Outside, my younger neighborhood looked exactly as I remembered it.
Cars.
Houses.
People walking.
Everything was the same.
I heard my mother's voice from downstairs.
“Elle! Hurry up! We're going to church!”
I froze.
Church.
Today.
The first meeting.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
Fifteen-year-old Elle.
I had gone back.
Not just in my memories.
Not in a dream.
I was actually here.
At the beginning.
The beginning of Josh.
I looked down at the notebook.
The words changed one final time.
YOU HAVE ONE CHANCE.
I swallowed.
“One chance?”
The page remained still.
Then another sentence appeared.
THIS TIME, YOU CHOOSE WHAT HAPPENS.
I stared at it.
A strange feeling filled my chest.
Excitement.
Fear.
Curiosity.
And something else.
Hope.
Maybe this wasn't a punishment.
Maybe it was a second chance.
A chance to find out what would have happened if I had made different choices.
A chance to understand Josh.
A chance to understand myself.
I quickly changed clothes.
I ran downstairs.
My mother looked at me.
“Why are you rushing?”
“I don't know.”
She laughed.
“You're acting strange.”
I grabbed my bag.
“Let's go.”
We walked toward church.
My heart was pounding the entire way.
I knew what was going to happen.
I knew who I was going to see.
I knew exactly where he would be.
And for the first time...
I wasn't the girl who accidentally fell for Josh.
I was the girl who knew she was about to meet him.
Again.
---
The church doors opened.
I stepped inside.
The smell of candles.
The sound of people talking.
The familiar wooden chairs.
Everything came rushing back.
I looked toward the side.
And there he was.
Josh.
Fifteen years old.
Carrying a stack of chairs.
Exactly as I remembered.
My heart skipped.
I almost laughed.
After everything—
the strange messages,
the photograph,
the equation,
the time travel,
the impossible night—
this was where it had all started.
He turned.
Our eyes met.
For a second, the world became quiet.
He smiled.
A simple smile.
The same smile I remembered for years.
Then one of the chairs slipped from his hands.
He quickly caught it.
I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing.
He looked embarrassed.
I smiled.
And suddenly, I understood something.
Maybe the equation wasn't about changing the past.
Maybe it was about understanding it.
I took one step forward.
Josh looked at me.
“Hi.”
I smiled.
“Hi.”
He looked at me for a moment.
Then said:
“Have we met before?”
My heart stopped.
I knew that line.
Because years later, he would ask me the same question.
But this time...
I knew the answer.
I smiled.
“No.”
I paused.
“Not yet.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“What?”
I shook my head.
“Nothing.”
I walked past him.
But before I could go any farther, I heard him laugh.
“Okay.”
I turned.
He was still looking at me.
And for the first time, I wondered—
What if the first time I met Josh wasn't the beginning of our story?
What if it was the beginning of the story I was finally being given the chance to rewrite?
I looked down at my notebook.
A new line had appeared.
VARIABLE 1: JOSH
STATUS: UNSOLVED
I smiled.
“Okay.”
I closed the notebook.
“Let's see what happens.”
And somewhere deep inside me, I already knew one thing.
This time...
I wasn't going to let the equation solve itself.
- Writer
