School was dismissed at exactly 3:00 p.m. The usual flood of students poured through the gates of Briston High, voices mixing with the sound of traffic and laughter drifting into the afternoon air. But today felt different.
For the first time in a long while—I wasn't walking home alone.
Amanda and Chris walked ahead of us, their steps perfectly in sync as if they had rehearsed it. Daniel walked beside me, adjusting the strap of his backpack. The four of us moved slowly down the sidewalk outside the school gates.
Chris broke the silence first.
"I still can't believe what just happened today."
Amanda nodded.
"Same here. This morning we walked into class normally, and by afternoon we suddenly have a team, a leader, a competition, and an assignment."
She glanced back at me.
"And a very serious princess in charge."
I sighed.
"Please stop calling me that."
Chris chuckled.
"But it's accurate."
Amanda added dramatically, "Her Highness, Leader of the Literary Kingdom."
I rolled my eyes.
"Very funny."
But truthfully… I was barely listening.
My mind was still spinning around the same thought.
Leader. Me. Sharon Richards. The girl whose daily routine had always been simple:
Classroom.
Library.
Cafeteria.
Teacher's office.
Home.
And repeat.
Now suddenly I was supposed to lead a group.
I stared down at the pavement as we walked.
How does someone even lead people?
"Sharon?"
Daniel's voice broke into my thoughts.
I blinked.
"Yes?"
He had slowed his pace slightly so we were walking side by side.
"Congratulations," he said.
I tilted my head.
"For what?"
"For becoming our leader."
I gave a small awkward smile.
"Thank you… I guess."
Daniel laughed softly.
"You sound like someone who just got sentenced to community service."
"Maybe I did."
He shook his head.
"You'll do fine."
We walked quietly for a few seconds.
Then he said something that caught me off guard.
"You know… we've been classmates for a while."
I frowned slightly.
"Have we?"
"Three years," he said casually.
My eyes widened.
"Three years?"
He nodded.
"And we've never actually had a proper conversation before today."
I felt a little embarrassed.
"I… tend to keep to myself."
"I noticed."
I sighed.
"Library?"
"Library."
"Writing?"
"Writing."
He smiled.
"Well, now you're stuck with us."
That made me laugh a little.
"Lucky me."
We continued walking.
The conversation became easier now. Less formal. Less stiff.
We talked about the competition. About possible ideas for their assignment. Daniel suggested they could do something dramatic—maybe a short performance instead of just reading a poem.
"That might impress the judges," he said.
"That could work," I admitted.
Behind us, Amanda and Chris had slowed their steps, too—but for completely different reasons.
Amanda had her arm hooked around Chris's. They were whispering to each other like conspirators.
"This whole thing happened too fast," Amanda was saying.
Chris nodded.
"Yeah. Yesterday we were normal students. Today we're a competition team."
"And Sharon is our leader."
Chris grinned.
"She's going to pretend she hates it."
Amanda smirked.
"But secretly she loves it."
They both laughed quietly.
By the time we reached the next intersection, we stopped walking.
"This is where I turn," Daniel said.
I checked the time on my phone. 3:18 p.m.
Chris stretched his arms.
"So when are we meeting?"
Amanda looked at me.
"Well, Leader?"
I thought for a moment.
"If we start early, we'll have enough time to plan everything."
Daniel nodded.
"That's true."
I looked at them.
"How about 5 p.m.?"
"Where?" Chris asked.
I hesitated for a second. Then I said something I never thought I'd say.
"My house."
Amanda's eyes widened slightly.
Chris looked impressed.
Daniel simply nodded.
"Alright."
"5 p.m.," Amanda confirmed.
We all agreed quickly before heading in different directions. And for the first time since this whole situation started—I hurried home.
When I opened the front door, the first thing I noticed was the smell of cooking. I blinked.
"Mum?"
Her voice came from the kitchen.
"Sharon, is that you?"
"Yes!"
I walked in and froze slightly.
My mother stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot.
I tilted my head.
"Wait… why aren't you at work?"
She laughed.
"Because normal humans sometimes get days off."
"Oh."
She wiped her hands and turned to face me.
"I have a night shift today, so today is technically my off."
I nodded.
Then I remembered something.
"Oh… Mum?"
"Yes?"
"A few people will be coming over later."
She raised an eyebrow.
"A few people?"
"For a school project."
Her expression changed immediately. Slowly. Suspiciously.
Then she folded her arms.
"Sharon Richards…"
I knew that tone.
"Yes?"
"You mean to tell me…"
She leaned closer slightly.
"That someone is coming over to this house."
"Yes."
"Your house."
"Yes."
"Your room."
"Yes."
She smiled mischievously.
"And you expect me to believe this is just for a school project?"
I blinked.
"It is."
She grinned.
"Or… is it because a certain boy has finally become friends with my daughter?"
"Mum!"
She burst into laughter.
"I'm just teasing."
I shook my head, laughing too.
"Well, they'll be here at five."
"Then we better make the house presentable."
"Oh, no," I said quickly. "We'll just be using my room."
She smirked.
"Of course you will."
I groaned.
"Mum…"
She waved her hand.
"Go upstairs, Sharon. Freshen up, eat something, and prepare your 'meeting.'"
"Yes, ma'am."
I hurried upstairs.
My room suddenly looked like a disaster zone. Books everywhere. Papers scattered across the desk.
My laptop half-buried under a pile of notebooks.
"Great," I muttered.
I quickly changed clothes, grabbed a quick lunch, and started arranging everything.
If people were coming over—My room needed to look like a workspace. Not a writer's tornado.
As I cleared space on the desk, I glanced at the clock.
4:37 p.m. Less than thirty minutes.
My heart beat a little faster.
Because soon—For the first time in my life—My quiet little room would turn into the headquarters of a team. And the strangest part? I was the one leading it.