FIVE YEARS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER - 2

EVAN POV

Evan

Eight years ago, I made the worst decision of my life.

I looked at Celestia.

Actually, no.

That wasn't the worst decision.

The worst decision was continuing to look at her.

Because after that, I was completely doomed.

I was twelve years old when I first saw her.

She was standing in our living room beside my sister, Luna, laughing about something I didn't understand.

I remember hiding behind the wall.

Not because I wanted to.

Okay.

Maybe I did.

There was a girl in our house.

A very pretty girl.

A very loud girl.

A very confident girl.

And I was twelve.

Chubby.

Shy.

And incapable of speaking to anyone who wasn't my mother.

So naturally, I hid.

Unfortunately, Celestia saw me.

She stopped laughing.

Then slowly turned her head.

And looked directly at me.

I disappeared behind the wall.

"Was that your brother?" I heard her ask Luna.

"Yes."

"Why did he run away?"

"Because he's Evan."

That was apparently a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Celestia walked toward me.

I knew because I could hear her footsteps.

One.

Two.

Three.

Closer.

Closer.

I remember standing completely still behind that wall, holding my breath as if I were in some kind of life-threatening situation.

Then her face appeared.

She smiled.

"Hi."

I stared at her.

She waited.

I continued staring.

"What's your name?"

I looked at the floor.

"Evan."

"Nice to meet you, Evan."

I nodded.

That was it.

That was my entire contribution to the conversation.

One word.

She looked at me for a few seconds.

Then she smiled again.

"You're cute."

My twelve-year-old heart stopped.

Completely stopped.

I was fairly certain I had died.

Luna started laughing from across the room.

"Don't tease him!"

"I'm not teasing him!"

Celestia crouched down in front of me.

And that made everything worse.

Because now she was closer.

Much closer.

She looked at me seriously.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

I shook my head.

"Good."

I blinked.

Then she smiled.

"Date me."

I stared at her.

My brain stopped working.

Luna nearly fell off the sofa laughing.

Celestia burst out laughing too.

"I'M JOKING!"

I knew she was joking.

Of course I knew.

Probably.

Maybe.

I went to my room and didn't come out for three hours.

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn't.

---

Celestia started coming to our house more often after that.

She and Luna were always together.

Always talking.

Always laughing.

Always doing things that made absolutely no sense to me.

I rarely spoke to her.

Not because I didn't want to.

That was the problem.

I wanted to.

Too much.

Every time she said my name, I forgot every word I had ever learned.

"Hi, Evan."

Silence.

"How was school?"

"Fine."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"You're so cute."

And then I would spend the next two hours wondering why she thought I was cute.

It was a difficult life.

Celestia treated everyone kindly.

That was something I noticed very early.

She thanked my mother whenever she cooked.

She helped my father carry things without being asked.

She always laughed when Luna was sad, even if she was having a bad day herself.

And somehow, she always remembered small things.

Once, I told her I liked chocolate ice cream.

Actually, I didn't tell her.

She asked.

I nodded.

That was basically telling her.

The next time she came to our house, she brought me chocolate ice cream.

Just for me.

I didn't know what to do.

So I said nothing.

She looked at me.

"Evan?"

I held the ice cream.

"Thank you."

She smiled.

And I immediately went to my room.

That was how our conversations usually ended.

Me escaping.

Celestia laughing.

Luna making fun of me.

It was humiliating.

---

Then she left.

Just like that.

She moved abroad.

I remember standing in the living room while Luna talked about how much she was going to miss her.

My mother was sad too.

Everyone was.

I didn't say much.

I never did.

But that night, I went into my room and stared at the chocolate ice cream wrapper I had kept inside a drawer.

Yes.

I kept it.

I was twelve.

Don't judge me.

Eight years passed.

I grew taller.

Thankfully.

I lost the baby fat.

I became less shy.

At least around everyone else.

I went to university.

Made friends.

Learned how to speak without running away afterward.

Basically, I became a normal person.

Except for one tiny problem.

Every now and then, Luna would mention Celestia.

And suddenly, I was twelve again.

Still hiding behind walls.

Still unable to say more than four words to her.

Still wondering if she remembered asking me to date her.

She probably didn't.

Of course she didn't.

To her, it had been a joke.

To me?

Well.

Let's just say twelve-year-old Evan took things very seriously.

---

"Evan."

I looked up from my phone.

My mother stood in my bedroom doorway.

"Celestia is coming to stay with us."

For three seconds, I didn't move.

Then I blinked.

"What?"

My mother smiled.

"She's coming here for her studies."

My heart stopped.

Actually stopped.

I stared at her.

"Here?"

"Yes."

"To our house?"

"Yes, Evan."

"She'll live here?"

My mother looked suspicious.

"For two years."

Two years.

Celestia.

Here.

Living in our house.

Sleeping down the hallway.

Eating breakfast with us.

Seeing me.

Talking to me.

My mother waited for me to say something.

I nodded.

"Okay."

Then I calmly closed my door.

Waited three seconds.

And screamed into my pillow.

---

I didn't tell anyone I was excited.

I was an adult now.

A mature twenty-year-old man.

I had dignity.

So naturally, for the next week, I asked absolutely no questions about Celestia.

None.

Except

"What day is she coming?"

"What time?"

"Morning or afternoon?"

"Is she bringing a lot of luggage?"

"What course is she studying?"

"Will she eat dinner with us?"

"Does she still like"

I stopped.

My mother looked at me.

I looked away.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She smiled.

Mothers know everything.

It was terrifying.

---

The day before Celestia arrived, my mother was arranging her room.

I walked past casually.

Very casually.

Then walked past again.

And again.

Finally, my mother looked at me.

"Evan."

"Yes?"

"Do you need something?"

"No."

"Then why have you walked past this room six times?"

I looked inside.

"I was just checking."

"Checking what?"

"The... room."

She crossed her arms.

"The room is still here."

I nodded.

"Good."

Then I noticed the vase on the bedside table.

Empty.

And suddenly, I remembered something.

A summer afternoon.

Celestia sitting in the garden.

Luna beside her.

Me pretending to read a book nearby.

Pretending.

Celestia had been talking about flowers.

"I love roses," she had said.

"Everyone loves roses," Luna replied.

"Not like that. White and pale pink ones. They're pretty."

I had remembered.

Eight years later.

I still remembered.

So that evening, I bought flowers.

It wasn't romantic.

Obviously.

I mean, it was.

But nobody needed to know that.

I placed them carefully in the vase when no one was around.

Then immediately regretted it.

What if she thought they were weird?

What if Luna found out?

What if Mom found out?

What if everyone found out?

I stood in front of the vase for ten minutes.

Then rearranged the flowers.

Then rearranged them again.

Then left.

Then came back.

Then added one more rose.

Then left again.

---

The next day, Celestia arrived.

I didn't go downstairs.

Obviously.

I had to act normal.

A normal person didn't wait downstairs for someone to arrive.

So I stayed in my room.

For exactly four minutes.

Then I heard the front door open.

My heart started beating so loudly I was convinced someone downstairs could hear it.

I stood up.

Sat down.

Stood up again.

Walked to the mirror.

My hair looked terrible.

I fixed it.

It looked worse.

I fixed it again.

Still terrible.

Why did I suddenly forget how hair worked?

Then I heard laughter.

Her laughter.

I froze.

Eight years.

Eight years since I had heard that sound in real life.

And somehow, it sounded exactly the same.

I walked toward my bedroom door.

Stopped.

Went back.

Sat on my bed.

Stood again.

"This is ridiculous," I whispered.

I was twenty years old.

I had given presentations in front of hundreds of people.

I had talked to strangers.

I had gone on dates.

Okay.

Two dates.

But still.

I could handle seeing one woman.

Right?

Wrong.

---

A little later, I heard Luna's voice upstairs.

And another voice.

Her voice.

My heart nearly exploded.

Celestia was upstairs.

Upstairs.

In my house.

In the room down the hallway.

I looked at my door.

Then at the ceiling.

Then back at my door.

I needed to go upstairs.

Not because of her.

Obviously.

I just needed to.

For reasons.

Very important reasons.

So I walked out of my room.

Casually.

Slowly.

Like I wasn't about to have a heart attack.

One step.

Two steps.

Three

And then I saw her.

She was standing at the top of the stairs with Luna.

For a moment, I forgot every plan I had made.

She looked different.

Of course she did.

Eight years had passed.

But somehow, she was still

Celestia.

Her hair.

Her eyes.

The way she looked around when she was curious.

The slight expression she made when Luna said something ridiculous.

Everything.

My eyes refused to move.

I knew I was staring.

I didn't care.

Then her suitcase slipped.

"Celestia!"

She lost her balance.

And my body moved before my brain did.

One second, she was falling.

The next

She was in my arms.

Her body froze.

So did mine.

Oh.

Oh no.

This was not part of my plan.

I looked down.

She looked up.

And for one terrifying, wonderful, completely unbelievable moment...

Celestia was staring directly into my eyes.

My heart forgot how to beat.

She was real.

She was actually here.

Not a memory.

Not an old photograph Luna showed me once.

Not a name mentioned during family conversations.

Here.

In my arms.

I wanted to say something smooth.

Something confident.

Something that would prove I wasn't twelve anymore.

Instead, my brain screamed:

SHE'S HERE.

That's it.

That was my contribution.

Thankfully, my mouth worked better than my brain.

"I—"

Nothing.

Brilliant.

She blinked at me.

And I realized my hand was still around her waist.

I let go immediately.

She stepped back.

Then stared at me.

I stared back.

This was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Because she had no idea who I was.

For a second, I was offended.

Then I remembered that eight years ago I had looked like a round potato with social anxiety.

Fair enough.

"You remember my brother, right?"

Thank you, Luna.

Celestia looked at me.

Then at Luna.

Then back at me.

"Your what?"

I nearly laughed.

She didn't recognize me.

I knew she wouldn't.

But actually seeing her confusion was

Cute.

Very cute.

And then she called me the shy kid.

The shy kid.

Eight years.

I had waited eight years.

And the first thing she said was

"You're the shy kid?"

I should have been offended.

Instead, I smiled.

Because she remembered something.

Anything.

She remembered me.

Even if it was only as Luna's quiet little brother.

It was a start.

---

Later, after dinner, after conversations, after pretending I wasn't secretly watching Celestia every five seconds

I went back to my room.

Closed the door.

Locked it.

Stared at the ceiling.

Then jumped.

Actually jumped.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I grabbed my pillow and buried my face in it.

She was here.

Celestia was actually here.

Living in my house.

For two years.

Two years.

I suddenly sat up.

Two years was a long time.

I had to be careful.

I couldn't stare at her constantly.

I couldn't act like a twelve-year-old.

I couldn't follow her around the house.

I couldn't

A notification appeared on my phone.

Luna: Stop smiling like an i***t.

I stared at the message.

Then immediately typed:

Me: I'm not.

Three dots appeared.

Luna: Evan. Your face was embarrassing.

I threw my phone onto the bed.

She knew.

Of course she knew.

I covered my face with both hands.

"Pull yourself together."

Silence.

I removed my hands.

"No staring tomorrow."

I nodded to myself.

"No following her."

Another nod.

"No acting weird."

I thought about the way Celestia had looked at me when I caught her.

I immediately smiled.

Then groaned.

"This is going to be impossible."

My eyes fell on something sitting on my desk.

An old photograph.

Luna.

Celestia.

And, in the corner

Twelve-year-old me.

Looking at Celestia when I thought nobody was watching.

I picked up the photograph.

Eight years ago, I couldn't even speak to her properly.

Eight years ago, she had jokingly asked me to date her.

Eight years ago, she had left before I could tell her that I would have said yes.

I smiled.

Then looked toward my bedroom door.

Celestia's room was just down the hallway.

She was here.

And this time, I wasn't twelve anymore.

This time, I could talk to her.

This time, I could make her laugh.

This time, maybe she would finally see me as Evan.

Not Luna's shy little brother.

Just Evan.

I placed the photograph back on my desk.

Then turned off the light.

A smile still on my face.

Because for the first time in eight years—

Celestia was no longer a memory.

She was home.

And unfortunately for me...

I was already falling all over again.