Resonance

Dove had always been the dramatic one.

Not the theatre-kid kind of dramatic—more like the “everything in life deserves epic narration” kind. In her head, ordinary days turned into legendary events, and today… today absolutely qualified.

Dove was a history nerd. A proud one. The type who got genuinely excited about obscure treaties and ancient battles while everyone else in class fought to stay awake. She was a little chaotic, talked too fast when she was excited, and had the extremely serious life mission of proving she was at least slightly better than her older brother at something.

Her brother, Martin, was the problem.

He was annoyingly perfect. Not in a cheesy movie way—though sometimes it did feel suspiciously close. More in the way older brothers sometimes were: taller, smarter, cooler, always five steps ahead of everyone else. He also wrestled, which somehow made his reputation even worse. People at school either admired him or were slightly afraid of him.

And Dove?

Well… she adored him. Completely. Unfortunately, that also meant she had to compete with him at every possible opportunity.

Which was exactly why today mattered.

Because today, Dove got her history test back.

And when the teacher placed the paper on her desk, she had stared at the number at the top like her brain had temporarily shut down.

Highest score in the class.

For a solid ten seconds, she forgot how breathing worked.

Her eyes stayed glued to the paper as if it might suddenly change its mind. The ink didn’t move. The number stayed there. Bright. Beautiful. Historic.

Historic. The word alone almost made her laugh.

Then the realization hit her like a lightning bolt.

The bet.

Weeks ago, during one of their usual competitive arguments, Dove had made a ridiculous deal with Martin: if she got the highest score in her history test, he owed her something amazing. Something big. Something she hadn’t even decided yet.

She didn’t care what it was.

Winning was the point.

And right now, she had proof.

So naturally… she ran.

Dove shot out of the classroom like a rocket, her test paper clutched in both hands like it was a priceless artifact from an ancient civilization.

She sprinted down the hallway with absolutely no concern for dignity, personal safety, or anyone else’s walking speed.

Behind her, footsteps scrambled to keep up.

Her best friend, Vivienne, was trying very hard not to collapse.

Vivienne was the complete opposite of Dove. Calm, composed, elegant. The kind of person who somehow made standing still look graceful. She was also the best flute player in the entire town—people literally called her the flute goddess.

Running, however, was clearly not part of her divine skillset.

“DOVE!” Vivienne shouted between breaths, nearly tripping over her own steps. “Slow down! You’re running like a complete maniac!”

Dove didn’t stop. She barely even turned around.

“Sorry!” she yelled back, laughing breathlessly. “But I have to show Martin! This is HISTORY!”

She paused for half a second.

“Pun absolutely intended!”

Vivienne groaned somewhere behind her.

Dove could already picture the moment in her head: Martin standing there, arms crossed, pretending not to care—until she dramatically revealed the score. His expression would crack just a little, the way it always did when she surprised him.

Whoa, he’d say. My little sister actually beat everyone?

And Dove would grin like she had just conquered the Roman Empire.

Perfect.

Unfortunately, life had other plans.

Dove turned a corner at full speed—because subtlety had never been her style—and immediately slammed into someone.

Hard.

Her feet slipped. Papers flew everywhere like startled birds.

For a terrifying second she thought she was about to face-plant straight onto the floor.

But then—

A hand caught hers.

Firm. Steady.

The world seemed to pause.

Dove blinked up, slightly dazed.

The boy in front of her was tall. Really tall. He had a book tucked under one arm, like he had been walking through the hallway completely absorbed in it until a human tornado—also known as Dove—had crashed into him.

His hair was messy in that frustratingly perfect way that probably required zero effort. His eyes were sharp but calm, like nothing in the hallway chaos actually bothered him.

And Dove, unfortunately, noticed all of this in about two seconds.

Her brain short-circuited.

Okay. Don’t stare, she told herself.

She stared.

Vivienne finally caught up behind her—and froze.

Her jaw dropped so suddenly it was almost impressive.

“What the heck,” she whispered under her breath, sounding like she had just witnessed something unbelievable.

A couple of girls nearby had also stopped walking. Their whispers started almost instantly, the quiet buzz of hallway gossip building like static.

The boy looked down at Dove, still steadying her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then he gave the faintest smile.

Not a big one. Just a small, quiet curve of his lips.

And somehow that made Dove’s brain panic even more.

Vivienne recovered first.

She grabbed Dove’s arm and started dragging her away like she was removing someone from a dangerous situation.

“Come on,” Vivienne muttered urgently. “Before you faint or something.”

Dove barely resisted, her head twisting back for one last look.

The boy had already picked up his book again. He walked down the hallway calmly, as if collisions with frantic history nerds happened to him every day.

No words.

No introduction.

Just that brief smile… and then he was gone.

Dove stood there, completely flustered, her test paper still crumpled in her hand.

Her heart was beating suspiciously fast.

And for a girl who had just achieved the greatest academic victory of her life…

All she could think was—

Who on earth was that?

--------------------------------🎀------------------------------

Dove didn’t slow down until she reached the hallway of the senior classes.

Martin’s classroom door was half open, loud with the usual chaos that followed a room full of older students who had finished their work and decided discipline was optional. Dove pushed the door open and walked in like she owned the place.

Which, in her mind, she basically did.

“Hi,” she said brightly to a couple of Martin’s classmates near the door, waving like she saw them every day—which, to be fair, she kind of did.

A few of them chuckled. One of them greeted her back like it was completely normal for Martin’s little sister to just wander in unannounced.

Behind her, Vivienne stepped in much more cautiously.

If Dove looked like she had arrived to host the place, Vivienne looked like she had been personally threatened into coming. She lingered near the doorway for a moment, small and composed as always, clutching her bag strap like she would rather be literally anywhere else.

Across the room, Martin was at his desk.

Or rather—half standing beside it.

He was arm wrestling with his friend Jamie, their elbows planted on the desk while a small crowd of amused classmates watched. Jamie looked intensely focused, while Martin looked… relaxed. Annoyingly relaxed.

Dove marched straight over.

Without hesitation, she slammed her history test onto his desk.

The paper made a loud smack.

“Look.”

Martin didn’t even flinch.

His attention stayed on the arm-wrestling match for another second before his eyes flicked briefly to the paper. He glanced at the score.

A tiny smile appeared.

Not a big reaction. Not dramatic. Just the faintest upward curve of his lips.

Then he gave a small nod.

Like a king approving a report.

Satisfied.

That was it.

By then, Vivienne had quietly walked over and stood beside Dove, saying nothing.

Dove stared at Martin.

Then she blinked.

Then she stared harder.

“…That’s it?” she said.

Martin said nothing.

Dove crossed her arms.

“Excuse me,” she started, her voice rising with disbelief, “I just got the highest score in the entire class and that’s your reaction?”

Jamie glanced between them awkwardly while still trying to push Martin’s hand down.

Dove kept going.

“Where is the shock? The pride? The dramatic brotherly admiration? You literally just—nodded!”

Martin finally spoke.

Without even looking up.

“You still scored less than me.”

Dove froze.

“…What?”

Jamie snorted.

Martin’s tone stayed calm, almost bored.

“Now don’t disturb me,” he added, focusing back on the arm wrestling. “Get out.”

And without turning his head, he reached for the paper.

Assuming Dove was still standing where she had been.

He picked it up and casually flicked it forward—

And smacked it straight onto Vivienne’s face.

The paper landed flat across her eyes.

For a moment, the entire classroom went silent.

Completely silent.

Dove’s mouth slowly fell open.

Vivienne didn’t move.

Her mind went blank, the test sheet covering half her face.

Jamie looked like someone had just dropped him into a social disaster he had no idea how to escape from.

The paper slowly slid down and fell to the floor.

Martin frowned slightly.

Something felt… wrong.

He finally looked up.

And saw Vivienne standing there.

Not Dove.

Vivienne.

Her face blank. Completely blank.

The realization hit him immediately.

Before he could say a single word, Vivienne quietly turned around and walked out of the classroom.

Still silent.

Still expressionless.

Dove snapped out of her shock.

“VIVIENNE—wait!”

She rushed after her, glaring back over her shoulder at Martin and murmuring as she left.

“You are unbelievable!” she snapped, pointing at him while backing out the door. “What is wrong with you?!”

She kept turning back as she hurried after Vivienne down the hallway.

“And you owe me for the bet, by the way! And also an apology! A huge one!”

Martin stayed frozen for a moment, Jamie still holding his arm on the desk.

Jamie slowly looked at him.

“…Dude,” he muttered.

Martin exhaled.

Yeah.

He had definitely messed that up.

--------------------------------🎀------------------------------

By the time classes were finally over, the entire day felt like a strange blur.

The afternoon sun poured lazily through the windows of Dove’s house while the two girls lounged in the living room. Vivienne sat neatly on the edge of the couch like she always did—back straight, legs crossed, perfectly composed.

Dove, on the other hand, was sprawled across the sofa like a tired cat, one arm hanging off the side and the other dramatically covering her face.

She was trying. Really trying.

Trying very hard not to think about the boy from the hallway earlier.

Which, unfortunately, meant she was doing the exact opposite.

“And I swear,” Dove continued for what had to be the tenth time, staring at the ceiling, “he just appeared out of nowhere. Like—out of thin air.”

Vivienne didn’t even look surprised anymore. She was used to Dove’s endless storytelling.

“You’ve already said that,” she replied calmly.

“But you didn’t see him,” Dove insisted, sitting up slightly. “The way he was leaning against the locker like he had nowhere else to be. And he had this—this look like he already knew everything happening around him.”

Vivienne blinked.

“You don’t even know his name.”

“I know,” Dove said immediately.

Then she paused.

“…Okay, yes, technically I don’t.”

She flopped back onto the sofa again.

“But I feel like I know him.”

Vivienne gave her a look.

“You spoke to him for eight seconds.”

“Eight very meaningful seconds,” Dove corrected.

Vivienne sighed quietly, resting her chin in her hand while Dove continued rambling like she had been personally investigating the boy’s life story.

“He had this jacket,” Dove went on. “Not school uniform. Which is weird. And his hair was kind of messy but not messy like he tried—it was like it just… existed that way. And he had this voice—”

Vivienne suddenly stood up.

Dove stopped mid-sentence.

“Where are you going?”

Vivienne tilted her head slightly.

“I hear something.”

Outside, faint vehicle sounds rolled through the quiet street.

Dove didn’t even bother moving.

“If it’s the ice cream truck, tell them to come inside,” she mumbled lazily.

Vivienne ignored her and walked toward the balcony.

Dove stayed exactly where she was, still stretched across the couch like gravity had permanently claimed her.

A minute passed.

Then another.

From outside came the sound of a car door closing. Voices. The low rumble of an engine shutting off.

Dove lazily called out, “If it’s aliens, ask them if they brought snacks.”

No answer.

A few seconds later—

Footsteps. Fast ones.

Vivienne suddenly rushed back into the living room.

She looked completely different.

Her breathing was uneven, and her eyes were wide in a way Dove had never seen before.

Dove slowly lifted her head from the couch.

“…Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”

Vivienne pointed toward the balcony, still trying to catch her breath.

“You need to see this.”

Dove groaned.

“What?”

Vivienne swallowed, still staring at her.

“Your new neighbours.”

Dove blinked.

“…And?”

Vivienne’s voice dropped slightly.

“You should really come look.”

For the first time all afternoon, Dove actually sat up.