The school festival was only two weeks away, and the excitement buzzed through the hallways like electricity. Sophie and Maya navigated the crowded classrooms, picking up supplies for their class booth. Posters, paints, and glitter lined their arms, and Sophie felt a mix of excitement and nerves.
"Can you believe it?" Maya whispered, dragging Sophie toward the art room. "This is your chance to show off your work… and spend even more time with Ethan."
Sophie rolled her eyes but smiled. "It's just a project."
Maya shook her head. "Sure, sure. That's what everyone says until they start falling in love."
Sophie ignored the comment, but her thoughts drifted to Ethan, who had agreed to help design the festival booth with both art and music. The idea of combining their talents had seemed simple at first, but now it was becoming a real challenge—something that required compromise and collaboration.
After school, they met in the library. Ethan arrived with a small speaker and his guitar case. "I was thinking we could play a few background tracks during the festival," he suggested.
Sophie nodded, pulling out her sketchbook. "And I can create a mural behind the booth. Something that ties the town's history with the music."
They worked in silence for the first few minutes, each focused on their task. Then Ethan hummed a melody softly, and Sophie instinctively started sketching patterns that matched the rhythm of the tune.
"Wow," Ethan said, leaning over her shoulder. "That looks amazing. You really capture movement in your drawings."
Sophie felt her cheeks flush. "Thanks. You make it easy with your music."
Their conversation drifted from the project to more personal topics. Ethan told her about his favorite songs, the ones he played when he wanted to feel less alone. Sophie shared sketches of places that reminded her of her brother, and for the first time, she spoke about her feelings openly.
"This is… nice," Ethan admitted quietly. "I never get to talk to anyone like this."
Sophie looked up, meeting his gaze. "I know what you mean. It feels… easy with you."
For a moment, neither spoke. The library seemed smaller, warmer, as if they had created their own little world among the shelves and scattered books.
The next day, as they set up the booth in the gym, students crowded around, inspecting the mural and listening to Ethan play soft chords. Whispers followed them, but this time Sophie ignored them. She focused on the music, the mural, and the feeling of being seen—not for her grades, not for anyone else, but for who she was when she was with Ethan.
As the festival preparations continued, the two grew closer, exchanging glances and small touches—like a hand brushing a paintbrush, or Ethan adjusting a sketchbook. Sophie felt the first real spark of something more than friendship, something she had only dared imagine.
By the end of the day, as they cleaned up, Ethan handed Sophie a folded sheet of music. "For inspiration," he said, his fingers brushing hers lightly.
Sophie held it close, smiling. "Thank you."
Walking home that evening, her heart felt light, but a small nagging thought lingered: the rumors hadn't disappeared, and whispers still followed them. Yet, in this moment, none of that seemed to matter. Not when music and art, laughter and quiet confessions, were creating something neither of them could ignore.