PART ONE: FIRST LOVE
CHAPTER FOUR: Conversations That Last
The days after that first quiet connection under the bleachers blurred together in a way that made Lucy's heart race and her stomach twist with anticipation. It wasn't just football games or stolen glances anymore-John had somehow found a way to insert himself into her daily life, piece by piece, conversation by conversation, until her quiet world was no longer entirely her own.
It started on a Monday morning in English class. Lucy sat by the window, her notebook open but her pen idle. She had tried to concentrate on the essay prompt about symbolism in Romeo and Juliet, but all she could think about was whether John would show up today.
He did. Of course he did.
"Hey, window seat," he greeted as he slid into the seat beside her, backpack thudding softly against the floor.
Lucy looked up, a small, involuntary smile tugging at her lips. "Hi."
"I figured you'd be here," he said, leaning back and letting his arm rest along the back of the chair, a casual presence that made her heart beat too fast. "Working on the essay?"
Lucy nodded. "Trying to. It's... kind of complicated."
John glanced down at her notebook. "Mind if I see?"
"I-uh-I guess," she said, handing it over reluctantly.
He flipped through the pages, eyes scanning the words she had carefully crafted. Lucy couldn't read his expression at first; his face was calm, neutral, almost too casual. But when he looked back at her, there was a glimmer of something genuine.
"This is really good," he said simply. "You really understand the story."
Lucy felt her cheeks heat. "Thanks... I've been practicing."
John smiled. "Clearly. I'm impressed."
It was just words, but they hit Lucy like sunlight through a clouded sky. Someone-someone like John-had noticed the effort she had put in. Not the house she lived in, not the way her clothes looked, not the fact that she rarely spoke up in class. Just her, and her work.
The bell rang, pulling them from their bubble of quiet conversation, and they both gathered their things.
"See you after school?" John asked casually, his tone like it was no big deal. But Lucy knew it was.
She nodded. "Yeah. I'll be under the bleachers."
The afternoon stretched long, each class dragging in slow motion as Lucy tried to focus but couldn't stop thinking about the conversation they would have later. By the time school ended, she practically ran to the field, weaving through groups of students heading toward the stadium.
John was already there, leaning casually against the bleacher support, helmet tucked under his arm from an early practice drill. His eyes lit up when he saw her.
"Made it," he said simply.
Lucy smiled and sat down, pulling her notebook out as she had the first time.
"Write something new?" he asked, settling next to her again.
"Yes," she said, turning the notebook toward him. "But it's... personal."
"I promise I won't judge," he said.
She hesitated, then turned the pages toward him.
He read silently, his brow furrowing slightly at some of the passages, softening at others. When he finished, he looked up at her.
"Lucy... you're really talented," he said. "Like... more than I expected."
Her stomach twisted with something fierce-pride, embarrassment, excitement-all tangled together.
"Thanks," she said softly. "I... I'm glad you like it."
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair back from his forehead. "I don't just like it. I admire it."
The word "admire" hung in the air between them, weighty and real. Lucy's heart pounded. She tried to focus on the notebook in her hands, pretending she was interested in the words she had written, but all she could hear was the steady beat of her pulse.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, the muffled sounds of the stadium above them forming a protective wall around their little space. Lucy realized she didn't want to leave, didn't want this moment to end. She wanted to stay under the bleachers forever, safe in the world they had carved out together.
"You know," John said after a few minutes, "I like that you're... different."
Lucy blinked. "Different?"
"Yeah," he said, leaning back and staring at the sky just beyond the stadium lights. "Most people at school... they're loud, or flashy, or trying so hard to be noticed. You... you just are. And it's kind of amazing."
Lucy felt herself blush. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," he replied. "Just... keep being you."
They sat together as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the field in golden hues. Lucy felt a warmth in her chest she hadn't known was possible-comfort, recognition, something like hope.
As the weeks passed, their after-school meetings under the bleachers became a ritual. They talked about everything and nothing-schoolwork, books, dreams, music, even the small, insignificant details of their lives that no one else would notice. Lucy found herself looking forward to the end of every day, counting down the minutes until she could see him again.
John, in turn, seemed to seek her out more than anyone expected. He would find her in the hallway, call her during lunch, ask about homework, or simply lean against her locker and talk while she packed her things. There was a comfort in his presence that was both thrilling and frightening. Lucy had never allowed herself to feel this way before-not about anyone, and certainly not someone like John.
One Thursday afternoon, John brought a small surprise.
"I thought you might like this," he said, handing her a folded piece of paper.
Lucy opened it carefully. Inside was a carefully folded bookmark he had decorated with doodles of books, stars, and little hearts.
"For... you," he said, his voice quieter than usual.
Lucy's fingers trembled slightly as she held it. "John... it's... it's perfect."
He shrugged, trying to appear casual. "I saw you reading during lunch last week and thought... well, you like writing, right?"
She nodded, clutching the bookmark to her chest. "I love it. Thank you."
They spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the shadowed space beneath the bleachers, talking about favorite books and sharing pieces of themselves they had never told anyone else. Lucy realized she could talk to John in ways she couldn't with anyone else-he listened without judgment, without assuming, without wanting to change her.
For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine a future where things might be different-where she might be seen and valued not for her quietness or her background, but for who she truly was.
But even as hope began to bloom, a small, nagging fear lingered at the edge of her thoughts. John was popular, rich, and admired by everyone at school. What would happen if the people around him noticed how close they were getting? Or worse, what if John decided she wasn't enough for him?
She pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the warmth of his presence, the way his laughter filled the empty space beneath the bleachers, the way he seemed to see her for the first time in a long while.
"You know," John said, nudging her shoulder gently, "I like that we can just... talk. No expectations. No drama."
Lucy smiled. "Me too."
They sat there for a long time, the stadium above them gradually emptying as the last few fans trickled out. The air grew cooler, and the shadows stretched longer, but neither of them moved. They were lost in conversation, lost in the simplicity of being together without the weight of the world pressing down on them.
As they finally stood to leave, John brushed off his hands and looked at her with a small, thoughtful smile.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.
Lucy nodded, her heart soaring. "Tomorrow."
And as she walked home that evening, the sky fading from gold to a deep, velvety blue, Lucy realized something she had never allowed herself to admit before: she was falling for John Carter. Slowly, cautiously, completely.
It scared her, the way hope and fear danced together inside her chest. But she couldn't stop it. She didn't want to.
Under the bleachers, in the quiet shadows of a stadium filled with noise, Lucy had found something she had never expected to find: a connection that felt real, a friendship that might become something more, and the dangerous, thrilling beginning of first love.
And somewhere, in a world that demanded she be invisible, Lucy felt seen for the first time.