Aria
In the library, a tranquil silence enveloped Aria, a serenity she could never quite appreciate. Unlike Ethan, who thrived in the quiet, or Luelle, who seemed to revel in it, Aria was not the type to study in silence, confined to her room. She craved noise, action, and life. That's why she was currently drumming her pen against the edge of the table, as if performing a solo.
"Could you not?" James said, not bothering to look up from his phone.
Fully aware of her antics, Aria tapped harder, sporting a wicked grin. "Why? Is it bothering you?"
James shot her a glance that was a mix of annoyance and bemusement—a reflection of years spent together. He had been a constant presence in her life for as long as she could remember, from their days in daycare to preschool, from playing in sandboxes to sneaking snacks during assemblies. There had never been a version of her life without him. He was the boy who dared her to eat glue and later defended her before she learned to stand up for herself. He could make her laugh during the dullest moments and would patiently endure her rants without getting (too) frustrated.
"You've got that look on your face again," he said, pulling her from her thoughts.
"What look?" she asked.
"The one that says your plans are brilliant and you're about to drag me into something ridiculous."
Aria made an exaggerated pondering expression and tapped her pen against her lips. "That's every look."
James groaned. "I withdraw everything I just said about tolerating you."
"You love me," she replied, opening her notebook to reveal the list she had been working on. "Anyway, focus. This is important."
James raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"
"Yes!" she hissed, leaning in closer. "This movie night could be legendary, you know? But only if we do it right."
"Or it could just be a regular movie night, and no one will care," James smirked, fully aware that this would leave her mind blown.
Aria reclined dramatically with a sigh. "This is why you're not allowed to plan anything, James. You have zero vision."
"Vision is overrated," he replied, leaning back in his chair with a nonchalance only he could pull off.
Falling silent, Aria continued writing names on her list, doing her best to ignore him. "Okay, it's you, me, Ethan— who has to come—Luelle, because she might as well be in the group now, and Rowan, obviously. But we need a bit more… spice."
"Spice?" James raised an eyebrow.
"Chaos," Aria clarified. "Controlled chaos."
A slow grin spread across James's face. "Cass."
Aria's eyes lit up. "Cass!" She jotted down her name with a flourish. "She's perfect. Rowan won't know what hit him."
Cass Monroe had been in their orbit for a long time—a quick-witted, mouthy classmate of Ethan and Rowan, with little patience for Rowan's antics. She wasn't mean, but she had a talent for cutting through his dramatics with surgical precision. It was a joy to witness, and Aria couldn't wait to see it unfold once more.
"Exactly," James said. "And Marcus and Devon. They're always down for pizza."
"Good," Aria nodded to herself. "This is solid. Enough personalities to keep it interesting, but not so many that it turns into total mayhem."
James leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "But do you realize you're treating this like a life-or-death mission?"
Without blinking, she replied, "Anything worth doing is worth doing well."
He shook his head, but she caught the glimmer of a smile at the corner of his mouth. That was the kind of guy James was. He acted as though he didn't care, but she knew better. He had supported her through every harebrained scheme and crazy idea she had come up with, making it work even if he grumbled along the way.
They were a team, and they always had been.
"Speaking of missions with intensity," James said, glancing at the next table, "what's happening over there?"
Aria followed his gaze to Ethan and Luelle. Ethan sat back, appearing laid-back, but his eyes were glued to Luelle's notebook. Luelle, staring out into the purple darkness, grimaced at the equations before her, her pen tracing lines above the page as if grappling with something deeper than mere math problems.
"She's got this," Aria murmured, unsure if she was reassuring James or herself.
"Do you think they'll come?" James asked, pointing to their southern neighbours.
"They better," Aria said, forcing her voice to remain light. "The night won't be the same without them."
James
To James, the library's silence felt suffocating, as if it were trying to squeeze out all personality and life. He despised places like this—too quiet, too staid, too pristine. It wasn't his scene. But Aria? She loved it here, even if she wasn't exactly the silence-and-study type. She was scribbling in her notebook as if her life depended on it, tapping her pen against the table at a rate he was convinced was designed to break his spirit.
He bit down hard, trying to block it out, but each strident tap burrowed deeper into his mind until he could no longer endure it.
"Could you stop that?" he grumbled, his voice low but laced with annoyance.
Aria barely paused, shooting him a look that clearly indicated his suffering was not her concern. "Stop what?"
James gestured at her pen, exhaling slowly. "That. The tapping. It's driving me insane."
Her smile flashed, impish and untamed. She paused her tapping just long enough for him to think he had won, only to resume with renewed vigour. Now she was doing it on purpose. Of course she was. Typical Aria.
"Come on," he said, his voice lowering but frustration still evident. "You're going to break the table."
"Focus, James. We've got work to do," she said, brushing him off as if he were the unreasonable one.
James sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back again, telling himself to ignore the maddening rhythm. Aria in planning mode was a force of nature—unstoppable, relentless, and completely oblivious to the chaos she created around her. He didn't fight it, though. He never really had. They had been friends since preschool when Aria declared him her "partner in crime" and pulled him into every harebrained scheme she could dream up. That was just how it went between them. She led; he followed. And honestly? He didn't mind at all.
The thought settled in his chest as he looked at her again. Now she was muttering to herself, furiously writing in her notebook as if the fate of the world hung in the balance. James smiled despite himself. This was Aria in her element. He savoured watching her like this—so utterly herself, bursting with energy and purpose, as if nothing could ever slow her down. It was one of the things he had always cherished about her.
"Don't look at me like that," she said suddenly, without glancing up.
"Like what?" James asked, snapping out of his reverie.
"Like you're doing me a favour by putting up with me." Her pen paused momentarily as she finally glanced at him, her eyes sparkling with the same teasing defiance he had long associated with her. "You love me, James. Admit it."
He laughed, reclining further as if trying to escape the weight of her words. But his lips betrayed him, curving into a smile. "Whatever you say, Aria."
She chuckled lightly, shaking her head as she returned to her list. That confidence was infectious, but it also stirred something deeper within James—something he preferred not to dwell on. The truth was, she wasn't wrong. He did love her. Not in the way she meant, not in a way he fully understood yet, but the feeling was undeniably there. It always had been.
James fidgeted, his gaze drifting to the next table where Ethan and Luelle sat. Ethan appeared laid-back and steady, a quiet concentration focused on Luelle's notebook. Luelle, in contrast, was absorbed, her pen hovering midair above the page as if she were carefully calibrating her movements. She wasn't flamboyant like Aria or Rowan, but she possessed a certain stillness that drew people in without their awareness.
James refused to dwell on it. His attention returned to Aria as she suddenly scribbled something out with bold, deliberate strokes, her enthusiasm spiking as she finalized her plans. He chuckled, watching her dive into yet another grand idea, shaking his head. That was Aria—messy, brilliant, and endlessly exhausting in the best way.
And honestly? He wouldn't change a single thing about her.