April 26 – Friday Afternoon / St. Ivy High – Class 1-A
The Silence After Storm
For the first time in weeks, the classroom was still.
"Is this… what peace feels like?" Tyler asked dramatically from the seat ahead of him, head tipped back. "I've forgotten."
"I think I blacked out during the essay," Sofia muttered from the next row. "If I wrote anything coherent, it's because my ghost took over."
Emma let out a soft breath. "We survived."
"That's what you say after an earthquake," Miles replied dryly. "Not an exam."
Sofia swung around to face the rest of the class. "Okay but seriously—we did survive. That calls for celebration."
Jay glanced at her. "You planning a party already?"
"Obviously." She stood. "We've got exactly one week before results come in and summer break officially starts. Which means—this is our golden hour."
Tyler raised a hand. "As co-founder of the 'We Deserve Fun' committee, I second this."
"You're not on any committee," Emma said.
"I am now."
Yuki glanced up from her notebook. "Statistically speaking, bonding activities post-stress help preserve academic relationships."
Everyone turned to her.
She blinked. "What? I'm agreeing."
Jay chuckled. "Alright then. What are we thinking?"
Brainstorming Chaos
Sofia moved to the front of the class and clapped her hands together like a stage director. "Okay people, let's throw out ideas."
"Arcade trip," Noah offered immediately. "We need neon lights and bad decisions."
"Too loud," Luna said softly from the window seat. "What about a picnic?"
"Picnic?" Tyler repeated. "We're not retired."
Emma tapped her pen thoughtfully. "What about a beach day?"
"Ooooh," Sofia said, eyes sparkling. "Now that has potential. Sun, snacks, summer vibes…"
"Sunburn," Miles muttered. "Soggy sandwiches. Sand in every crevice."
Jay leaned back, watching the chaos unfold with a quiet smile.
This was it.
This was the version of Class 1-A he'd missed the most.
Not just the jokes. Not the noise.
But this: people who cared enough to argue over nothing.
People who stayed behind after the bell rang, just to keep being together.
Somewhere In the Middle
Amaya hadn't spoken yet.
She was still in her seat, quietly sketching something in her notebook. Not art. Just shapes. Doodles. A calming ritual.
Jay nudged her elbow. "You in for whatever this turns into?"
She looked up, startled, then smiled. "Of course. As long as we're all together."
Tyler turned around in his chair. "What about a theme day at someone's house? Like, movie marathon. Or bad karaoke night."
"Jay's place," Sofia said, finger-pointing immediately. "He has a rooftop, doesn't he?"
Jay blinked. "Wait—why am I—"
"You're rich," she said bluntly.
"Only moderately."
Tyler grinned. "C'mon. You owe us. You've been mysterious all year."
Emma added, "We'll help organize. You won't have to do anything."
Amaya leaned in. "And I can help with food. My family's bakery would love to donate."
Jay looked at the circle of faces around him—earnest, eager, too charming for him to argue with.
He sighed. "Fine. But someone else picks the playlist."
"Deal," Sofia said, victorious.
Final Bell
The hallway outside was starting to empty.
Afternoon sun slanted through the windows, casting golden shadows across the floor.
Mr. Brooks passed by the open door and paused.
"Why are you all still here?" he asked.
"We're celebrating," Tyler said.
"That you're not academically doomed?" Brooks raised a brow.
Sofia nodded. "And planning our week of freedom."
Brooks sipped from his ever-present mug. "Don't destroy public property. Or private. Or my trust in you, which is already minimal."
"Got it," Jay said. "We'll only destroy our own expectations."
Brooks grunted. "That's the spirit."
He walked away.