Morning Call – A Father's Voice
It was one of those calm mornings.
The kind where the sun rose without urgency, casting a golden hue over my desk, scattered with notes and my neatly folded Catalyst Team hoodie.
I had just finished packing my bag when my phone rang. "Mom" flashed on the screen.
I smiled instinctively and answered, holding the phone between my cheek and shoulder as I tied my shoes.
"Hello, Mom. Good morning."
"My daughter! Good morning, my love. Are you getting ready for class?"
Her voice was as bright and warm as the sunlight pouring into the room.
"Yes, I am. Almost done."
She was quiet for a second and then said softly, "We are so proud of you, Nuella.
Your father and I… we can't stop talking about you.
One woman, Mrs. Jane, called. She said you're an amazing young lady.
That you stood out at the conference.
She even asked for our contacts to commend you personally."
My heart swelled at her words.
"She did? Wow." I sat on the edge of the bed, stunned.
"That's… so kind of her. She's one of the panelists.
She encouraged me after our win."
I could hear murmuring in the background, my father's voice, low but distinct.
"What's he saying?" I asked with a half-smile.
"He's asking to talk to you," Mom replied. "Hold on."
My chest tightened just a little.
There had been progress between us lately, quiet moments of peace, but there was always a layer of hesitancy beneath it.
Still, I waited, the silence stretching until I heard his voice.
"Nuella."
"Good morning, Daddy." My tone was gentle and respectful.
There was a pause.
Then, surprisingly, he chuckled lightly.
"Good morning. You're already getting ready for class, aren't you? Always moving."
"Yes, sir. Just about to leave."
Another brief pause, then:
"I… heard what Mrs. Jane said about you.
I also saw the article your school published. I… I just want to say you made us proud."
My heart skipped a beat. I gripped the phone tightly.
"Thank you, sir. That means a lot."
"I may not say it often, but I've been watching.
The way you handled everything, the way you led your group… it wasn't easy. But you did well."
Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. "I tried, Dad. I did."
His voice softened, almost like a whisper.
"And we see it. I see it now.
Keep going, Nuella. Stay focused. Finish strong. You're capable of more than I ever imagined."
I didn't speak right away. My throat felt tight with emotion.
"Thank you, Daddy. I will."
We shared a quiet moment before he handed the phone back to Mom.
Her voice returned, light and teasing.
"Look at you two, finally speaking like old friends. See what God can do?"
I laughed, wiping my tears. "Amen to that."
"Alright, go to class. But remember, we're cheering for you always."
"I love you, Mom. Love you, Dad."
"We love you more."
As I ended the call, I sat in silence for a moment, heart full.
The warmth of their words settled over me like a quiet hug.
No matter how far I had come, this being seen, being heard, was the kind of progress I'd dreamed of all along.
Lecture Hall Buzz – Newfound Respect
After the call ended, I quickly dabbed my eyes and gave myself one last look in the mirror.
Composed. Ready. Different, maybe not visibly, but inwardly, something had shifted.
My father had finally said the words I'd longed to hear: "You made us proud."
I stepped into the lecture hall just as a few students were settling into their seats.
The murmurs, the rustle of notebooks, the clink of metal water bottles, it all felt oddly louder than usual.
Then I noticed it.
The looks.
People were watching me.
But not the usual stares. These were softer, acknowledging.
Like I'd done something remarkable.
"Nuella!" someone called from behind.
It was Timi, grinning like he hadn't seen me in years.
"Hey, superstar!" he said, loud enough for the front row to turn.
Caleb and Jordan flanked him as they gathered around me.
Saraph followed behind, dramatically fanning herself.
"Please, Miss International Speaker of the Year, autograph my course outline before you're too famous to remember us."
I laughed, cheeks warming. "Guys, stop it."
"Oh no," Caleb said, bumping my shoulder.
"You earned this. We read the news. Your name is literally on the school portal homepage!"
As we all walked to our seats, Professor Liam entered, wearing his usual serious look, but his eyes brightened slightly when they landed on me.
"Nuella," he said, pausing mid-aisle. "I'm glad to see you here."
"Thank you, sir."
He nodded, then addressed the class.
"Before we begin today's lecture, just a quick note.
Some of your fellow students recently returned from representing our department at a national academic conference.
I'd like to acknowledge the Catalyst Team for their outstanding performance."
Applause erupted.
I could feel everybody's gaze from across the room, their proud smile enough to make my pulse stutter.
Professor Liam continued, "It wasn't just a participation award.
These students took home first place, earned a travel grant, and impressed faculty across institutions.
Let's use their dedication as inspiration."
As the applause faded, I sat down, still dazed. Was this real?
After the Lecture – Quiet Corners and Shared Glances
Later that afternoon, the hallway outside the lecture hall buzzed as students filtered out in groups, still discussing class and the upcoming projects.
I gathered my things slowly when Daniel's voice came from beside me.
"You handled that like a pro," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"Even when Professor Liam called you out in front of everyone."
I smiled, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Wasn't expecting it, honestly."
"Well, you should. You deserve it."
We walked side by side through the hallway.
"You know," I said after a moment, "this morning… my dad called."
Daniel slowed his pace, looking at me. "He did?"
I nodded. "He told me he was proud of me. For the first time."
His lips parted in surprise, then softened into a smile. "That's… wow. Nuella, that's huge."
"Yeah," I whispered, emotion threading my voice. "It felt… like closure."
He gently took my hand, threading our fingers together.
"I'm proud of you, too. Always."
We didn't need to say much more.
The hallway noise faded behind us, and for a moment, it was just us, two students, side by side, walking through a chapter they'd once only imagined.
Weeks Later – The Countdown Begins
It had been a few weeks since the conference, and though the buzz on campus had settled, the ripple effects still lingered.
Our team, the Catalyst core, had become something of a quiet legend, whispered about in halls, highlighted in bulletin boards, and occasionally stopped in walkways with "Congrats again" or "You guys were amazing!"
But on that particular Tuesday, something shifted.
We were seated in our usual corner of the department's lounge when Professor Liam entered, holding a thick folder and a clipboard.
The room naturally quieted as he walked toward us with his signature calm stride and an expression that suggested something serious but promising.
"Catalyst Team," he began, setting the folder down on the table.
"I trust you all are still enjoying your afterglow of victory."
Saraph grinned. "Just a little. Okay, maybe a lot."
Daniel nudged her playfully, and I chuckled, already sensing something official was coming.
Professor Liam leaned on the table slightly, scanning our faces.
"As you all know, the travel grant you received wasn't just symbolic.
It was real. And it's happening sooner than we thought."
We sat up straighter.
"The university, in collaboration with two international academic institutions, has finalized the exchange and leadership exposure trip.
It's scheduled for next month. That gives you just under four weeks to prepare."
He paused, then smiled lightly.
"And by prepare, I don't mean just your passports.
You'll be joining a summit with other emerging scholars and research students.
You'll need to update your presentation, prepare a short documentary portfolio, and work on a paper to be submitted by the end of the trip."
Caleb groaned. "You mean… more work?"
Professor Liam's brows lifted in amusement.
"Think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
You'll be published, presented, and mentored at a global level. This is the kind of thing that opens real doors."
Saraph was already scribbling in her notebook. "I love this. All of it."
I looked around at my team, at Daniel's steady confidence, Mateo's thoughtful nod, Saraph's enthusiasm, and Ophelia already opening her laptop.
The fire in our group hadn't dimmed; if anything, this announcement had reignited it.
"Who's overseeing us for the trip?" Daniel asked.
"You'll still be under my supervision," Professor Liam said.
"But you'll also be introduced to two faculty members from the host university.
Expect communication from them soon."
He handed me the folder. "Nuella, as team lead, you'll coordinate your group's timeline.
Travel requirements, academic expectations, and itinerary details are in here."
I took the folder with steady hands, the weight of it not just physical but symbolic.
A new chapter was beginning.
Before he turned to leave, Professor Liam added, "This isn't just another trip.
It's a new stage. Represent your school, your department, and most importantly, yourselves, with grace, curiosity, and discipline.
I expect nothing less from the team that made us all proud."
We nodded in unison, a silent promise exchanged between us.
As he walked away, Saraph let out a dramatic gasp. "We are about to go global!"
Daniel leaned over and whispered with a grin, "Looks like the journey isn't over yet, Captain Nuella."
I smiled, clutching the folder a little tighter. He was right.
The journey was only beginning.
Laying the Groundwork
The following day, our group gathered in one of the quiet seminar rooms in the department.
The sun filtered through the blinds, and the whiteboard had "TRAVEL GRANT PREP" scribbled boldly across the top in red marker, Saraph's handiwork, of course.
Ophelia had already connected her laptop to the projector, organizing the document folders that Professor Liam had handed out to us the day before.
I sat at the head of the table, flipping through the itinerary again, flights, summit dates, paper deadlines, and three scheduled presentations across two institutions.
"Okay, first order of business," I began, tapping my pen against my notepad, "we need to assign responsibilities.
One for documents, one for updating our presentation, and one for communication and correspondence."
Daniel raised a hand lazily. "I'll handle the presentation updates.
We'll need stronger visual narratives and maybe a short reflective section."
"I'll take care of correspondence," Saraph added, twirling her pen.
"Emails, check-ins, faculty meetings, I'm your girl."
"I'll do the documentation," Mateo offered.
"Travel forms, health clearances, visa letters, I've got experience with this stuff."
I nodded. "Perfect. Let's meet twice a week until the trip, yeah?"
Before anyone could respond, my phone buzzed.
I glanced at it and raised a brow. "It's a call from the international line, could be one of the faculty members Professor Liam mentioned."
We all stilled for a second before I answered.
"Hello? Yes, this is Nuella from the Catalyst Team… Yes, we're together right now… One moment."
I switched to the speaker.
A calm British-accented voice filtered through.
"Hello, everyone. This is Professor Elise Ward from Halden Institute, United Kingdom.
I'm one of the faculty leads for your upcoming academic exchange.
My colleague Professor Marco Alvarez from the States is also on the line."
Another voice joined in, this one smoother and more enthusiastic.
"Pleasure to meet you all. We've heard nothing but brilliant things from your school and review committee."
"Thank you, sir," I responded, sitting up a little straighter. "We're honored."
"Wonderful," Professor Ward continued.
"We're sending an academic prep packet your way, research expectations, pre-arrival readings, and a short reflective write-up due before departure.
We want to get a sense of your current mindset and team dynamic."
"Also," added Professor Alvarez, "don't worry, we'll guide you through each phase. This isn't a test.
It's a launchpad. One step at a time."
The call ended, and silence lingered in the seminar room.
Ophelia was the first to break it. "Well," she said, tapping her laptop, "that sounded… intense."
Saraph leaned forward dramatically. "Intense? That was legendary.
Did you hear her voice? British accent, academic authority, everything I've ever dreamed of in a mentor."
Daniel smirked. "And yet, all you heard was the accent."
I laughed, but my chest was still tight with the weight of what just happened.
It wasn't abstract anymore. This was real.
Deadlines, expectations, professors whose names we'd only seen in published journals.
"We need to divide the prep work carefully," I said, flipping to a fresh page in my notebook.
"And we can't afford slip-ups.
This isn't just about us anymore, it's about our school, our department."
Mateo raised a hand quietly. "And our visas. If those don't come through, none of this happens."
The room fell still. He was right.
Saraph groaned. "Oh no. Embassy queues. Medical forms. Photocopies of photocopies."
We all laughed, but underneath it was the sobering truth: before we could fly, we had to crawl through the paperwork.
Daniel leaned closer, his voice pitched only for me. "We'll get through it. Together."
I nodded, though in my heart I already felt the beginning of something heavier, the responsibility of carrying not just my dream but all of ours.
This was no longer just about winning a conference.
This was about proving we belonged anywhere our names were called.
I exhaled slowly, allowing myself to absorb it.
This is more than an award; it is a platform.
And we are standing on it, together.
"Alright," I said, lifting my pen again. "Let's build something unforgettable."