The lunch break passed faster than Ethan expected. Between Ben's endless commentary about his new classmates and the steady flow of students hurrying around them, the courtyard seemed to dissolve into background noise.
When the bell rang, Ben let out a dramatic sigh.
"Back to prison."
"It's just class," Ethan said, standing and brushing off his pants.
"Same thing."
"No."
"Yes."
Ethan didn't bother arguing. Ben always found a way to win debates through sheer stubbornness.
They parted again at the corridor intersection, Ben dragging himself toward 1-D while Ethan returned to 1-B. The hallway was less chaotic now; the morning excitement had dulled into a predictable rhythm of footsteps, casual chatter, and lockers opening and closing.
Ethan slipped into the classroom a few minutes before the bell. Some students had returned, some were still missing, and others were exploring the school during the break. Ethan settled into his seat by the window again. A soft breeze moved the curtains slightly.
He took out his notebook, flipping it open as if checking something.
In truth, he liked to keep his hands busy. It helped him stay grounded in unfamiliar places.
More students filtered in slowly.
Aria Frost entered the room again—quiet as earlier, holding her notebook close to her chest. She walked to her seat without hesitation, her gaze forward, posture straight.
She didn't glance at Ethan.
He didn't glance at her.
They existed in the same space like any two classmates with no reason to talk yet.
The bell rang, and afternoon classes began.
Time eased forward at a comfortable pace. English, Math, and Social Studies passed without much noise. The students were still adjusting to their routines, their teachers, the weight of the syllabus. Whenever Ethan was called to answer something, he responded clearly and calmly. His voice wasn't loud or shy—it was steady, confident.
A few students turned to look at him occasionally. The quiet boy with the composed voice—they seemed curious, though no one asked questions.
During one small group activity, Ethan ended up paired with two students:
A boy with glasses, shy and soft-spoken.
And a girl who introduced herself as Sarah, the class representative.
Sarah smiled politely. "Um, Ethan, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'm Sarah Quinn. Nice to meet you. We'll probably be in the same group a lot this year."
"Nice to meet you too," Ethan replied.
The boy whispered, barely audible, "I—I'm Oliver."
Ethan nodded to him. "Hey, Oliver."
Oliver blinked, surprised Ethan addressed him so naturally. He relaxed a little and started participating more in the group discussion.
Ethan wasn't instantly best friends with them, but he wasn't closed off either. He spoke when needed, listened attentively, and engaged just enough to build a comfortable baseline.
By the time the activity ended, Sarah smiled at him again.
"You're pretty easy to work with. That's rare on the first day."
Ethan shrugged lightly. "Thanks. You too."
Oliver muttered something that sounded like agreement.
It was nothing dramatic—just the slow formation of acquaintances. Exactly the kind of beginning Ethan found natural.
As afternoon classes wrapped up, the sun shifted to the west, casting golden light through the windows.
When the final bell rang, students cheered and packed up quickly. The hallway filled with the sound of zippers, desks scraping, and chairs shifting.
Ethan stood up and stretched his arms slightly. A quiet relief washed over him. Not from stress—just from enduring the long first-day routine.
He exited the classroom with the flow of students. The hallway was less chaotic than the morning, but still full of life.
"Ethan!"
Ben ran over again, already waving from halfway down the hall.
"You look alive! Good sign!"
"You look the same as before lunch."
"That's because I suffered," Ben said gravely.
"You suffer a lot."
"It builds character."
Ethan couldn't help but chuckle.
They walked outside together, heading toward the school entrance. Students formed clusters along the walkway—some waiting for friends, some heading to clubs, others directly leaving school.
Ethan noticed the basketball club recruitment poster on the wall near the courtyard.
Bright colors. Bold letters. Photos from older matches.
"RAVENWOOD RAVENS — REBUILDING OUR LEGACY
JOIN US. TRAIN HARD. FLY HIGH."
Ben glanced at Ethan, smirking. "Your kingdom awaits, future star."
Ethan shook his head. "Don't make it dramatic."
"Aren't you joining?"
"Eventually," Ethan said simply.
"You're acting cool but I know your heart's doing backflips."
"Ben."
"Okay okay, I'll stop."
Ethan wasn't nervous about basketball.
If anything, the thought gave him a quiet spark of excitement.
He had practiced with Lucas's teammates for years.
He knew several seniors already recognized him.
He wasn't worried about fitting in—only about the right timing.
He didn't want to walk into the gym on the very first day.
That felt too loud, too deliberate.
He preferred to get a feel for the school first.
Ben looked at Ethan's face and grinned. "You're thinking about basketball."
"…A little."
"Aha!"
Ethan rolled his eyes but didn't deny it.
They stepped through the school gates, sunlight warming their faces. Students dispersed in every direction, forming rivers of navy-blue uniforms heading toward their homes.
Ben stretched dramatically. "Finally, freedom. My back hurts. My soul hurts. My destiny hurts."
"You don't even know what destiny means."
"I do. And it hurts."
Ethan laughed softly. "Want to stop by the store?"
"Bro, yes. I need chips and emotional support."
"Only chips?"
"…And maybe chocolate milk."
Ethan nodded. "Okay."
Before they reached the sidewalk, the sound of a bicycle bell chimed behind them.
Ethan stepped slightly aside.
A girl cycled past smoothly—silver hair catching the sunlight for a brief second.
Aria Frost.
She rode with steady confidence, headphones on, eyes focused ahead. She didn't see them.
She didn't stop.
She just passed by like any other student going home.
Ben whispered, "Pretty."
Ethan shrugged. "She seems quiet."
"You noticed."
"I notice everyone."
"No, you noticed her."
"Ben."
"Okay okay. But she gives off… calm vibes. Like she could ignore a tornado."
Ethan didn't disagree.
But that was all.
She was just a classmate he didn't know yet.
They continued walking. The city breeze felt refreshing after the long school day.
As they turned the corner, Ethan looked back once—not consciously, just a small, curious glance toward the school he'd spend the next three years in.
Ravenwood High.
It looked ordinary from the outside.
But he knew, somehow, that this place would become important.
Friends he didn't know yet.
Rivals he hadn't met yet.
Courts he hadn't stepped onto yet.
Everything was waiting.
Ethan wasn't in a hurry.
He wasn't anxious.
He wasn't trying to force anything.
He would let things unfold at their own pace—
the way he always did.
Quiet beginnings.
Steady steps.
And soon enough,
the calm inside him would meet the storm outside.
But not today.
Today, he was just Ethan Cross, a first-year boy walking home with his friend, ready for whatever tomorrow brought.