Chapter Three

Julie Vaz

I actually liked Monday today.

Not for the typical reasons – the mountain of homework, or the pressure of facing another long week of high school. No, this Monday felt different because it was my last Monday of high school. The last Monday in a place I’d never really belonged, where I had spent most of my time hidden behind books and notebooks, too scared to fully participate in the messy, glamorous world that my classmates seemed to have perfected.

I was supposed to hear from NYU tomorrow.

I had applied months ago, and as part of my application, I’d written a personal statement that felt as close to my heart as any story I’d ever written. I wanted to be an author. More than anything, I wanted to be able to create worlds and characters that could make people feel something the way the books I loved made me feel. But, deep down, I’d always been terrified. Terrified that my stories weren’t good enough, that I wasn’t good enough to actually take the leap. To publish.

But NYU? If I got in, it would be the first step to making all those quiet dreams real. I couldn’t let myself think about it too much, though. Not yet. I had to focus on today. The last Monday.

I stepped onto the front steps of St. Augustine’s Preparatory, a sense of excitement bubbling under my calm exterior. The last stretch of high school. The last Monday of all of it.

And then my eyes landed on him. Of course. Alexander Carter.

It would have been easier if I could pretend, he wasn’t a part of my world. But I couldn’t.

I quickly tucked my books closer to my chest, doing my best to avoid tripping as I climbed the stairs to the school building. I didn’t know why my heart always did that annoying flip whenever he was near. He was the last person I wanted to be thinking about today.

But there he was. Of course.

He was stepping out of his expensive Aston Martin, that polished, ridiculously sleek car that screamed “I’m rich and I know it.” It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing a quiet, bookish girl like me was supposed to take note of. But there I was, watching him like I was under some kind of spell.

As if that wasn’t enough, the sound of Madison Chen’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning against his car, twirling her hair with that practiced, seductive smile. The one she reserved for getting something from someone. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself, but quickly composed my expression.

It was easy for people like her, wasn’t it? So easy to glide through high school, collecting attention and admiration like it was nothing. Meanwhile, I was busy hiding behind books and pages, desperately trying to make sense of the stories in my head.

But today wasn’t about them. It was about me.

The bell rang, signaling the start of our final week. AP Literature was my first class – the one I loved most, the one that made me feel like I was where I truly belonged. Mrs. Harrison had been a lifeline throughout high school. Literature was my escape, and it was the only class that had ever truly made me feel like I was good enough. Not like I was stuck on the sidelines, watching the real world pass me by.

But of course, the universe had other plans.

I walked into the classroom, searching for an empty seat. My eyes instantly found his. Alexander Carter.

For the first time, I found myself staring at the back of his head – noticing things I had never paid attention to before. The way his hair was always just the right amount of messy, his posture so effortlessly confident. His name, his charm, his everything had always irritated me. But now, with the last days of high school hanging over us, something about him seemed... impossible to ignore.

I dropped my bag onto the floor and sat down, adjusting my glasses. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. Why did it bother me so much?

I had plans today. NYU might be calling me any minute with an answer. I didn’t have time to think about the boy who seemed to rule the social world of St. Augustine’s.

But, of course, that’s when Mrs. Harrison made the announcement.

“Alright, class, for your final project, we’ll be assigning partners. I’ll be randomly pairing you all up, and it will be a big part of your final grade.” She paused, flipping through her roster of names, and I braced myself for whatever disaster was about to unfold.

“And the pairs are…” She began to read the list off.

My stomach clenched, but I told myself it didn’t matter. It wasn’t going to be the end of the world, even if I ended up working with someone I didn’t know well.

“Alexander Carter and Julie Vaz,” Mrs. Harrison said.

I froze.

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as I looked up at him. He wasn’t looking me, but I knew. He heard the name. His jaw stiffened just a little, and I could practically feel the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Of course, he would think this was some kind of joke. He probably had a dozen people lining up to work with him, while I—well, I was just a quiet, bookish girl who never really fit in.

I leaned towards him, my hands gripping my pen so tightly my knuckles turned white.

I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t the end of the world.

I tried to swallow my nerves. “I suppose your ego will have to make room for actual academic work,” I whispered under my breath, knowing he could hear me.

I wasn’t sure if he’d even respond. His reputation was built on a cold, effortless charm. But this time, he did.

He leaned toward me, close enough that I could smell the expensive cologne he wore. My mind screamed at me to stay calm, but instead, I found myself leaning in closer.

"Don’t worry, bookworm," he murmured, his voice smooth but laced with sarcasm. "I wouldn’t want to tarnish your perfect GPA."

I clenched my jaw, feeling my heart hammer in my chest. Why did that hurt? Why did it bother me so much that he thought he could dismiss me like that?

I fought the urge to snap back, but I knew that would only play into his hands. So I sat up straighter, keeping my voice steady. "Don’t worry, Carter. I can handle the research just fine. You stick to what you're best at."

For a moment, his eyes widened, as if my words had surprised him. But only for a second. Then he turned away, leaving me to stew in the tension that still hung in the air.

And just like that, the battle lines were drawn.

As I opened my notebook and tried to focus, I realized I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why did his opinion even matter? Why did it sting to be dismissed by someone like him? Maybe it had to do with the fact that, for once, I wanted to prove I could be more than just a bookworm. More than the quiet, invisible girl who always stayed on the outside looking in.

Maybe, just maybe, this project was my chance to show him—show everyone—that I wasn’t afraid to take the leap.

The truth was, I hadn’t just applied to NYU for the chance to be a writer. I applied because I needed to prove to myself that I could live in the real world, outside the pages of my books. And if I could survive this partnership with Alexander Carter, maybe I could handle whatever came next.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this project wasn’t going to be as simple as I thought. It was going to be far more complicated than I could have imagined. And I couldn’t tell if that terrified me or excited me. Maybe both.