Reflection

The last day of high school ended quietly.

No dramatic speeches.

No tearful farewells.

Just a slow walk out of the building, backpack slung over her shoulder, diploma tucked safely in her bag — and a strange sense of freedom mixed with fear.

She was done.

Lena was done too.

High school had been four years of growing up, learning who she was outside of being Nathan Thomas' little sister.

And now?

Now it was time to chase something real.

Sophia stood at the edge of the school courtyard, watching students hug each other, take selfies, shout goodbyes into the wind.

She didn't cry.

Not yet.

But as she looked down at her phone — at the acceptance letter glowing on the screen — she smiled.

"You've been accepted into Evergreen University."

It wasn't just any university.

It was his city.

The place he had chosen to build his life — far from his parents, far from the past, far from her.

Evergreen City.

A quiet, artsy town nestled between hills and old bookshops, known more for its coffee culture than anything else.

Daniel had moved there nearly five years ago — right after college — chasing independence and a life he could call his own.

He worked as a graphic designer — freelancing at first, then landing a full-time role at a boutique firm downtown. He built his own apartment from scratch, refusing to take help from his wealthy parents.

She had read about it in passing messages from Nathan.

About how proud he was.

How independent he'd become.

How he'd changed.

And she had hated herself for missing him more.

Because while he was out living his dream…

She was stuck in the past.

Still loving him.

Still waiting.

Still hoping.

Back home that night, Sophia sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Lena dropped down beside her, flipping through Sophia's acceptance packet.

"So," Lena said, smirking. "Let me guess. You picked Evergreen because of him."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "I picked it because it has a great psychology program."

"And because it's two hours away from Daniel Harper," Lena added dryly.

Sophia didn't deny it.

Instead, she whispered, "I wanted to be close. Even if he doesn't want me."

Lena sighed. "You're still doing this."

"I'm not doing anything," Sophia muttered. "I'm just… going to the same city."

"You mean the city he chose?"

Sophia nodded. "Yeah. I did."

She exhaled slowly.

"I've loved him since I was twelve," she admitted. "Since the first time I saw him win that race. Since the dress incident. Since the tutoring sessions where he made me feel seen, even if it wasn't in the way I wanted."

Lena gave her a long look. "You know he's five years older than you, right?"

Sophia smiled faintly. "Of course. He was always ahead of me — in school, in life, in everything."

Lena raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't that make things weird?"

Sophia shrugged. "We grew up together. That matters."

"That doesn't make it less awkward," Lena teased.

Sophia smirked. "Maybe. But I've never stopped loving him. And if I have a chance to finally be near him again…"

She trailed off, smiling softly.

"I'm taking it."

Later that evening, she opened her diary.

She hadn't written in it often these days — too many memories, too many unspoken confessions.

But tonight felt different.

Tonight felt like the end of one chapter… and the beginning of another.

She flipped back through old entries — some were scribbles from middle school, others from high school heartbreaks.

One caught her eye.

Written in shaky handwriting when she was thirteen:

"Today, Daniel stayed for dinner again. He wore his gray shirt — the one with the hole in the sleeve. He helped me clean up after dinner. I wish he'd look at me the way he looks at other girls."

She traced the ink with her thumb.

Another entry followed:

"I heard him talk about his parents once. He said he didn't need their money to find his own path. I think that's why he keeps choosing us — because we make him feel like he belongs."

And then the most recent one she'd written earlier that morning:

"I wish I could be enough for him."

She closed the diary gently, hugging it to her chest.

Because now, the girl who had written those words was gone.

In her place stood someone ready to stop hiding.

Ready to stop pretending.

Ready to face him — not as a child.

But as someone who had waited long enough.

She remembered the day he left clearly.

She was fourteen.

He was nineteen — already heading off to college, already planning to build his future somewhere far away.

The age gap had always been there.

She knew it.

Felt it.

Hated it.

But back then, she also believed that someday, he'd notice her.

She had been wrong — or maybe just too early.

Too young.

Too quiet.

Too invisible.

So when he packed up his car, kissed her forehead, and said, "Take care of yourself, Soph," she had nodded.

Smiled.

Waved.

Watched him drive away like nothing was breaking inside her.

And then she had cried for three nights straight.

After that, they barely spoke.

At first, it was understandable — he was settling into his new life, adjusting to college and work.

But soon, the texts became fewer.

The calls disappeared.

And Sophia learned what it meant to love someone who was moving on — while she was still standing in place.

She told herself she would forget him.

That eventually, she'd grow out of it.

But every time Nathan mentioned Daniel's name, every time she passed by his old hoodie still hidden in her closet, every time she saw a guy wearing a leather jacket like his, her heart reminded her of the boy who had never truly seen her.

She had started planning this long before anyone knew.

Even before she applied to university.

She had Googled everything about Evergreen — the neighborhoods, the schools, the places he might go.

She imagined running into him at a café.

Or seeing him at an art gallery opening.

Or maybe just bumping into him on a rainy afternoon.

She didn't expect a grand reunion.

She didn't expect him to fall into her arms.

But she wanted to be near him.

To see him again.

To finally understand what it meant to love someone from afar for so long.

The city itself was real enough.

Evergreen City was a small but vibrant urban center nestled in a valley surrounded by pine-covered hills. Known for its creative energy, it attracted artists, writers, musicians — people who wanted to carve out a space for themselves away from the noise of bigger cities.

It was perfect for Daniel.

Independent.

Quiet.

Full of possibilities.

And now…

It was hers too.

As she lay back on her bed, she thought about everything.

She had loved him for over half her life.

Twelve years old when it started.

Nineteen now.

Seven years.

Seven years of silence.

Of distance.

Of pretending she didn't miss him.

She had watched him grow up.

Had memorized every story Nathan told about him.

Had read every post he shared online about design projects, apartment moves, and life without family ties.

And now?

Now she was walking into his world.

Not as a child.

Not as a shadow.

But as someone who had loved him long enough to finally understand what it meant to wait.

To hope.

To choose.

She wasn't chasing him.

She was stepping into the same city — the same life — and daring fate to do something about it.