Back to Reality

The trip to Switzerland had been more than just a simple vacation escape. It was an experience that changed me in ways I still couldn't fully explain. Now, as we flew back to Stanford, I felt a mix of nostalgia for what we were leaving behind and anticipation for what awaited us on campus. The plane vibrated softly under my feet, but this time, thanks to Olivia and her insistence on "traveling in style," we were back in first class. Though I was tired, my mind kept replaying the moments we had lived in Zurich: the laughter, the deep conversations, the breathtaking landscapes, and, above all, the connection I had strengthened with Lindsay and Olivia.

The flight was calm, but Olivia, as always, found a way to make it memorable. From the moment we boarded, she began complaining about how even in first class, her six suitcases deserved more space.

—You know what? —she said, crossing her arms as she adjusted her reclining seat—. I think they should offer a special service for people like me. Something like "Olivia Hart Premium."

Lindsay tried to calm her down patiently, though I knew she was also struggling not to laugh.

—Olivia, we're already in first class —Lindsay commented, pointing to the spacious seats and the glasses of champagne we had been served upon boarding—. What more do you want?

—Exactly! —Olivia replied dramatically—. We're here, but where's the personalized luggage cart? Or the neck massage included in the ticket price?

—I think that would be 'First Class Plus' —I joked, taking a sip of my drink—. And it probably only exists in your imagination.

—Don't mock me, Sack —Olivia retorted, pointing at me with her finger—. Comfort is an art, and clearly, this plane still has a lot to learn.

At some point during the flight, Lindsay leaned toward me to comment on the view outside the window.

—Look at that —she said, pointing to the clouds that looked like cotton stretched out beneath us—. It's like we're floating in another world.

Our shoulders brushed, and for a second, our hands touched as well. We quickly glanced at each other, and although neither of us said anything, I felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature inside the plane. It was a brief moment, but enough to remind me how special our connection was.

When we landed, Olivia triumphantly announced that she had already mentally organized a welcome-back party to celebrate our return to campus.

—We need something epic —she said, while searching for a cart for her suitcases—. Something that says, 'Olivia Hart is back, and she brings European glamour with her.'

As she walked away to inspect the available carts, Lindsay and I stayed behind, taking advantage of a rare moment of quiet.

We stopped in a quiet corner of the airport, away from the hustle and bustle of passengers. Lindsay looked at me with a thoughtful expression before speaking.

—I don't want this trip to end —she said softly—. It's been… special.

I nodded, feeling that her words perfectly reflected what I was thinking.

—For me too —I replied—. Not just because of Switzerland, but because of everything we shared.

Lindsay smiled, and for a moment, it seemed like we were about to have one of those deep moments I valued so much. But, as if it were a universal law, Olivia suddenly appeared, shouting:

—I found a cart for my suitcases! It's like destiny heard me!

We both laughed, though the interruption broke the romantic atmosphere. Still, those small moments—the laughter, the interruptions, the sincere conversations—were part of what made our friendship so unique.

When we arrived at Stanford, the campus was bustling with students rushing to unpack or reunite with friends after the holidays. Olivia made a dramatic entrance, dragging her six suitcases and declaring loudly:

—It's official! I'm the only person at Stanford who needs a luggage cart!

Nearby students laughed or looked at her curiously, but Olivia simply smiled proudly.

As we helped carry her suitcases up to her room, she excitedly commented:

—Now that your car is here, Sack, we can go explore beyond campus. Maybe even organize a road trip!

—A road trip? —I asked, raising an eyebrow—. Do you already have a destination in mind?

—Of course —Olivia responded enthusiastically—. We could go to Big Sur. Or maybe back to Yosemite. Or… well, anywhere I can use my new camera.

—I think we should first focus on surviving the quarter —Lindsay interjected, laughing—. But a road trip does sound fun.

Having my car at Stanford gave me a sense of freedom. It was a gift from my father, yes, but now I saw it more as a tool to create new experiences with my friends.

The quarter officially began the next day, and although I was used to the workload, I couldn't help but compare the calmness of the campus to the vibrant energy of Zurich. In one of my classes, a classmate asked me about my trip.

—So, how was Switzerland? —he asked, leaning toward me with curiosity—. Fondue parties? Snowy mountains? Did you dance in the Alps like Heidi?

I smiled ironically, avoiding details.

—Not exactly —I replied—. But yeah, it was amazing.

During lunch, we were at our favorite campus café. Olivia took the opportunity to tell an exaggerated story about how she almost lost one of her suitcases at the airport.

—It was like an action movie —she said, gesturing dramatically—. I ran through the entire airport, shouting, 'Stop that luggage!'

Lindsay rolled her eyes, amused.

—Olivia, no one shouted that. You weren't even wearing proper running shoes.

—Details, details —Olivia responded, brushing it off—. The important thing is that I saved my suitcases.

Lindsay mentioned that she missed the Swiss landscapes, especially the Alps we had seen from the Glacier Express. I took out my camera and showed her some of the photos I had taken during the trip.

—You really should consider doing something with these photos —Lindsay said, admiring them—. They're incredible.

—Enter a photography contest? —Olivia interjected—. Of course! But first, you need an artistic name. How about 'Sack the Photogenic'?

We all laughed, though I pretended to be offended.

In the afternoon, Lindsay and I decided to walk together around campus before it got dark. The sun was slowly setting, casting long shadows over the buildings and trees.

—This place makes me feel at home —Lindsay said—, but now… I think I also picture Zurich when I see a sunset like this.

I nodded, stopping by a bench under a tree.

—Sometimes I think this trip changed us in some way —I commented—. Like we grew up without realizing it.

Lindsay moved closer and hugged me gently.

Lindsay looked at me, smiling.

—I think you're right. And I'm glad we shared that together.

At that moment, I softly took her hand, feeling as if the world around me was fading away.

—Me too —I murmured.

That night, I stayed alone in my room—Marcus was with the football team—reviewing the photos I had taken during the trip. I paused on a particularly beautiful image of the snow-covered Alps and thought about how this trip had changed me. I reflected on how my relationship with Lindsay had evolved and how my friendship with Olivia had grown stronger. I also thought about my father and how, although our relationship was still complicated, I felt like I was learning to handle my emotions in a healthier way.

I decided that, even though the quarter would be demanding, I wanted to find time to continue exploring my passion for photography.

Before going to bed, I received a message from Olivia:

"Tomorrow we're going to the welcome-back party. Bring your camera. I want you to capture my best angles. And no ugly filters, please."

I smiled as I put my phone away. Despite the pressure of the new quarter, I knew that having Lindsay and Olivia by my side would make everything more bearable. Plus, with my car now at Stanford, I felt like I had more freedom to balance my academic and personal life.