Before we all went our separate ways outside the school gate, something small—but important—happened.
Chris and Amanda had already walked ahead of us, arguing about whether fries were better than burgers. Daniel rolled his eyes at them, while Ethan and I trailed a little behind.
"Wait," Daniel suddenly said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. "We should probably exchange contacts."
I blinked.
Right. We had somehow formed a team without actually having each other's phone numbers.
Daniel pulled out his phone first. "Sharon?"
I gave him my number, and he saved it quickly.
"Done," he said. "Now Ethan."
Ethan took out his phone quietly. "Same here."
Within a minute, we had all exchanged numbers. My phone buzzed almost immediately.
Daniel: Testing if this works.
A second later, another message appeared.
Ethan: Seems it does.
I laughed softly.
"Group communication secured," Daniel said proudly.
"Perfect," Ethan added.
Soon after, we split up and headed toward our different streets.
By the time I reached home, my shoulders felt heavy with the kind of exhaustion that only a full school day could bring.
I dropped my bag on my bed and stretched.
"Finally."
After a quick shower, I changed into something comfortable and went downstairs for lunch.
The house was quiet, but I knew Mum had returned earlier. She was probably asleep.
I ate quietly, enjoying the calm after the busy day.
Just as I finished washing my plate, I heard a door open down the hallway.
Mum walked into the kitchen, tying her robe loosely around herself. Her hair was slightly messy from sleep, but her eyes were more rested than they had been in the morning.
"Afternoon, Sharon," she said.
"Afternoon, Mum."
She yawned and leaned against the counter.
"How was school today?"
I laughed.
"Crazy."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Tell me."
So I did.
I told her about the new student, Ethan. About how he ended up joining our literature team. About the history class discussion where we accidentally turned the lesson into a mini debate.
Mum listened with quiet amusement.
"So this quiet boy challenged you in class?"
"I wouldn't say challenged," I said quickly.
She smiled knowingly.
"Mm-hmm."
"And we finally named our group," I added.
"Oh?"
"The Quintet of Echoes."
Mum nodded slowly.
"That actually sounds impressive."
Then she chuckled softly.
"You know what? Something crazy happened at work, too."
I leaned against the table.
"What happened?"
She shook her head slightly, still smiling.
"A patient came into the emergency room last night claiming he had swallowed his USB drive."
I blinked.
"Seriously?"
"Yes," she said.
"And?"
"Well," she continued, "we prepared for all kinds of complicated procedures…"
She paused.
"…only for the man to suddenly sneeze, and the key flew out onto the floor."
I burst out laughing.
"You're kidding."
"Nope," she said, laughing, too. "The entire medical team just stood there staring at the drive on the floor."
"What a coincidence," I said, shaking my head. "Crazy day for both of us."
Mum stretched again.
"Well, I'm going back to rest before dinner."
"Okay."
I watched her disappear down the hallway before heading back upstairs. My room was peaceful, the evening light pouring softly through the window.
I opened my notebook and spread out my school materials. There were still assignments to complete. History notes to review. A short English essay about symbolism in literature. And of course—Our project.
I read through the poetic play again, adjusting a few lines, strengthening the dialogue between Fear and Hope, and slowly shaping the final act.
Every now and then, I glanced at the title written at the top of the page. The Voice Within.
Just as I was rewriting a line, my phone rang. Daniel.
I answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sharon."
His voice sounded relaxed.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Nothing much," he said. "Just wanted to check in."
"Check in?"
"Yeah," he laughed. "We've been teammates for two days, and we've only talked about school work."
"That's true."
"So," he continued, "tell me something about you."
I leaned back in my chair.
"What do you want to know?"
"Hmm… hobbies."
"I write," I said. "Poetry mostly."
"I guessed that already."
I smiled.
"What about you?"
"Football," he said. "Reading sometimes. And apparently now… poetry plays."
We talked for a while—about school, about our favorite books, about how Chris and Amanda somehow managed to turn every conversation into chaos. Daniel laughed easily, and the conversation felt natural.
Eventually he said, "Alright, I should let you get back to work."
"Thanks for calling."
"See you Monday."
"See you."
The call ended.
I returned to my notebook for a moment. Then my phone rang again. This time—Ethan.
I hesitated for half a second before answering.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Sharon."
His voice was calm, almost thoughtful.
"Hi."
"I hope I'm not interrupting."
"No, it's fine."
"I was just thinking about the project," he said. "And something came to mind."
I sat up slightly.
"Oh?"
"What if the final scene shows the student speaking for herself—without the voices interrupting?"
I thought about it.
"That could work."
We began discussing ideas. But unlike the earlier conversation with Daniel, this one drifted naturally between the project and other things. Books. Music. Writing.
At one point he said something that made me laugh unexpectedly.
"Honestly," he admitted, "when I first entered that class today, I thought everyone would ignore me."
"That was my first impression of you, too," I said honestly.
"That I'd ignore everyone?"
"That you were… very serious."
He chuckled softly.
"I get that a lot."
The conversation lasted much longer than I expected. By the time we finally hung up, the sky outside had turned completely dark.
I closed my notebook and stretched. Tomorrow there was no school.
For the first time that day, I let my thoughts wander. Ethan was… different from what I had first assumed. Quiet, yes. But thoughtful. Funny in subtle ways. And surprisingly easy to talk to.
I turned off the light beside my bed and lay down. The house was quiet.
Outside, the night stretched calmly over the street. And slowly, as sleep crept in, my thoughts drifted away with it.