Ricky Martin had always known that some people had a presence that seemed to pull the world toward them. For him, that person was Lisa Lima. She was in the year above him, tall, graceful, and effortlessly charming. Every morning, she walked through the school gates with that radiant smile, causing hearts to flutter, including his.
Ricky had admired her from afar since his first year. At first, it was just the usual crush, the kind that made you stumble over words when you saw someone in the hallway. But over time, it had grown into something more—something that seemed to invade his every thought. He found himself daydreaming about conversations with her, imagining her laughter, imagining moments that could never happen… at least, in his mind.
Today was like any other day. Ricky walked down the hallway, his backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. His eyes were fixed on Lisa as she moved ahead of him, laughing with her friends. There was something ethereal about the way her hair caught the morning sunlight. He shook his head, trying to focus on not staring too much, but it was impossible.
"Ricky, are you even listening?"
He blinked and looked at his friend, James, who had been poking him repeatedly. "Huh? Oh… yeah, yeah, just… thinking," he muttered, his face heating up.
James smirked. "Thinking about Lisa Lima again, aren't you? Man, you're hopeless."
Ricky groaned. "Shut up. I just… she's amazing, okay?"
James laughed, shaking his head. "Amazing? Dude, you've barely talked to her. You don't even know her. It's just a crush."
Ricky wanted to argue, but deep down, he knew James was right. He didn't know Lisa. Not really. Yet, there was a feeling he couldn't explain—an inexplicable pull, like she was always just slightly out of reach, but never truly gone.
It started last week, when he had first noticed something… strange. He had stayed late in the library to finish an assignment, and there she was. Sitting at a corner table, reading a book he had never seen her carry before. The strange part? The library was supposed to be closed, and no one else was supposed to be there.
He had rubbed his eyes, thinking he was imagining things. But when he looked again, she was still there, and she had looked up at him, her eyes bright and warm. She smiled—a gentle, knowing smile that made his chest tighten. Ricky had wanted to speak, to walk over, but the moment he stepped forward, she was gone.
Now, every day seemed to hold a similar mystery. She appeared in hallways he didn't know she would walk through. He caught glimpses of her in empty classrooms, in quiet corners of the schoolyard, always vanishing before he could reach her.
That evening, Ricky stayed behind after classes, hoping to see her again. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the empty courtyard. He sat on the steps near the school gate, pretending to read a book, but his eyes scanned every corner, every doorway, hoping for a glimpse of her.
And then… he heard it.
A soft laugh, delicate and melodious, floating on the wind. His heart leapt.
"Lisa?" he called, standing up.
No answer. Only silence. He took a few steps forward, and there she was—standing by the old fountain at the far end of the courtyard.
"Ricky," she said softly, turning her gaze toward him.
He froze. His pulse raced. "L-Lisa… what are you doing here?"
Her smile didn't falter. "I wanted to see you," she said simply.
Ricky's knees felt weak. He wanted to run to her, to hold her hand, but he found himself rooted to the spot. "How… how are you here? The school… it's empty."
She tilted her head, as if puzzled. "I'm always around. Haven't you noticed?"
He swallowed hard, confusion twisting in his chest. "Notice… what? Lisa, this doesn't make sense…"
Her expression softened. "I know. You wouldn't understand yet."
Ricky wanted answers, but the moment he stepped closer, she vanished, leaving only the faint echo of her laughter behind. His heart pounded painfully. He sank to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees.
That night, Ricky couldn't sleep. His thoughts kept circling back to her, to the strange feelings, the impossible moments. And then, as he drifted into a restless sleep, he began to dream.
In the dream, he was walking down a quiet street on a rainy afternoon. The pavement glistened under the gray sky, and in the distance, he saw her—Lisa, laughing under the rain without a care in the world. She waved at him, her eyes sparkling. "Ricky!" she called.
He ran toward her, heart soaring. But as he reached out, she disappeared, leaving only the echo of her laughter and a chill in the air.
Ricky woke with a start, drenched in sweat. Something wasn't right. He couldn't shake the feeling that these dreams weren't dreams—they were memories. Memories that didn't belong to him.
The next day, he finally worked up the courage to ask about her. In the cafeteria, he approached one of the seniors who had known Lisa. "Hey… Lisa Lima? You know her, right?"
The senior looked at him strangely. "Lisa Lima? Don't be ridiculous… she… she died seven years ago."
Ricky's blood ran cold. "W-What?"
"She died in a car accident. Seven years ago. I… I'm sorry if this is hard to hear," the senior said gently.
Ricky staggered back, his mind spinning. Seven years? That didn't make sense. How… how could he have seen her? Talked to her? How could he have dreamt of her like she was still alive?
That evening, Ricky wandered the streets near his home, trying to make sense of it. And then, he felt it—a gentle touch on his shoulder. He turned, and there she was.
"Ricky," she said, smiling softly. "Why do you look so sad?"
His chest tightened. "L-Lisa… you… you're… dead," he whispered.
Her smile didn't fade. "I know… but I couldn't leave you."
He reached out, desperate, and his hands passed through hers. The chill of the realization hit him like a wave. She wasn't alive. She was… something else.
Over the following weeks, Ricky and Lisa began meeting in secret. Rooftops, abandoned classrooms, and along the riverbank—they found moments where the world didn't seem so impossible. They laughed, shared stories, and Ricky learned fragments of her life before the accident.
But Lisa warned him: she could only manifest for so long, and each appearance drained her strength. She could stay, but eventually, she would fade completely.
One night, under the silver light of the full moon, Lisa took his hands in hers. "Ricky… I have to go," she whispered, her eyes glistening.
Ricky shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No… I can't lose you… not again."
She smiled, brushing a tear from his cheek. "I'll always love you. That's enough. Remember me… and live."
Her form shimmered like morning mist, and then she was gone.
Ricky stood there long after, staring at the empty night sky. He felt a strange mix of sorrow and peace. She was gone from his world, but not from his heart. He knew, somehow, that some loves transcend time. That some souls never truly leave.
Years later, Ricky would walk past the school gates and swear he saw her smile in the crowd, fleeting but perfect. And every time he did, he knew—Lisa Lima had never truly left him.