Ever since they exchanged contact information, it was inevitable that Clara would reach out again. Charlie stayed up half an hour later than usual, waiting for her message to appear.

[Sweetheart: Charlie, are you there? Are you there, Charlie?]

[c: I’m here.]

[Sweetheart: There’s a problem on the homework. Can you help me tomorrow?]

[c: Sure.]

[Sweetheart: Can’t you say more than a word or two?]

[c:… Get some rest.]

Clara lay on her bed, staring at his reply with a long sigh.

[Sweetheart: I can’t sleep.]

Charlie frowned at her admission, worried something might be wrong. He was about to ask when another message popped onto the screen.

[Sweetheart: Every time I close my eyes, I think of you.]

[Sweetheart: Remember how sexy you looked yesterday...]

Clara added playfully, drawing out a laugh as she imagined Charlie’s reaction, the lengthy pause in his response confirming her expectations.

Charlie was caught off guard by the boldness of her text, taking a moment to compose himself before sending a deflective reply.

[c: Goodnight.]

Clara, apparently waiting for this, quickly responded, ignoring his attempt to steer the conversation away.

[Sweetheart: Goodnight, Charlie. See you tomorrow.]

[c: See you tomorrow.]

[Sweetheart: You have to say ‘Sweetheart, see you tomorrow’.]

His heart skipped unnoticed, fingers hesitating before he obliged.

[c: Sweetheart, see you tomorrow.]

Turning off the phone, it wasn’t Clara who lay awake—Charlie found himself staring at the ceiling, his mind wandering to the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Calling her by a nickname—did that mean they were closer now?

---

The entire class descended into panic today after someone mentioned that mock exams were a week away.

Clara felt the tension creep in, then remembered her dream of a future where Charlie had achieved everything she wanted. She'd asked him if he’d ever let her take first place. His answer was—

“No.”

What about now? What would his answer be?

“Charlie,” Clara gently tugged on his sleeve, “you’ve always been the top student, haven’t you?”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, “Yeah.”

“I was too,” Clara said, “but not since meeting you.”

Charlie pressed his lips together, deep in thought, as she teased, “Would you let me take first just this once?”

Dreams reflect a person’s subconscious. Clara wasn’t really asking him to let her win; rather, she was intrigued by the difference between the present Charlie and the one from her vision. What made him tick?

His reply was swifter than she anticipated, carrying a hint of difficulty, “No need… You can win on your own.”

Clara’s smile froze momentarily before widening as she playfully rubbed his ear. “Of course.”

“Oh, by the way,” Clara said, recalling last night’s invitation, “Noah invited me to study at the library this weekend. Should I go?”

Charlie asked, “Who?”

“Noah, you remember? That boy from the private school yesterday, the one I sat next to.”

Charlie hummed an acknowledgment, internally mulling over her use of “sat next to.”

“His academic skills are top-notch, like yours, and he’s pretty good-looking too…”

He listened to her chatter in silence until she leaned closer.

“Should I go?” Clara supported her chin with her hand, the question directed at him.

Charlie looked at her, then back at his book, feigning calmness. “It’s up to you.”

“Alright,” Clara turned back around in her seat. “I already agreed.”

Charlie:...

His eyes fixed on a word in the book, and when he spoke, a hint of displeasure leaked through, “Then why ask me?”

He could hear her laughter, her fingers tapping on the desk as she said, “Are you jealous?”

As though caught by her insights into his less visible emotions, Charlie flexed his fingers. “No.”

“Yes, you are,” Clara said, almost daringly, “so why don’t you come along too?”

Her invitation came out of the blue, but he had to admit, the unexpected offer brightened his mood.

“But he didn’t invite me.”

Clara’s fingers brushed against his leg. “But I did.”