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It’s my senior year, the season of endings and new starts, and I’m drifting. Lost in hallways crowded with faces I’ve seen a thousand times but barely know.’’ I’m trying to find a path, a purpose, maybe even a sign of where I should be heading. People push past me, fragments of conversations and laughter filling the air as I navigate through the crowd.

Finally, I make it to class, and that’s when I see her.

She’s there, seated by the window, her face partially lit by the soft spring light through the glass, She’s the kind of beauty that feels compelling, not flashy, like someone you’d want to know every detail about. My heart stumbles momentarily and I feel my focus shift entirely to her. I slide into the seat beside Her, every nerve suddenly alive, and I catch the faint scent of her perfume soft and sweet, like lavender with a hint of orange.

The teacher’s voice starts talking about life and purpose, going on and on about how “we need to figure out who we want to be.” her words blur as I sink deeper into my thoughts, my senses wrapped around the girl beside me. My eyes grow heavy, and so does the warmth of the room, the soothing humming of her voice, and her fragrance. It’s all too easy to let myself drift off.

Then, a gentle touch on my shoulder brings me back. I blink, slowly focusing, to see her looking at me. Her eyes are so pretty, and she smiles softly.

“Wake up,” she says, her voice light and almost musical. You’re going to be late.”

I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, still dazed. “I’m up, I’m up,” I murmur, trying to pull myself together, feeling embarrassed and a little thrilled. She laughs. Together, we gather our things, heading off to the next class.

As I walk down the hall, I can’t help but wonder about her. What type of person is she? What are her hobbies? These questions swirl in my mind, planting a seed of something I haven’t felt in a long time. a sense of possibility and the start of something new.