The structure of the building was something I had gotten used to without ever really thinking about it. Two wings, A and B, stood opposite each other, connected by a hallway from the first floor just below the terrace. From my corridor in B Wing, I could look straight across and see the other side clearly. Not at an angle, not partially hidden—just directly in front of me. It made everything feel closer than it actually was.
That Sunday morning, I was standing there like always, doing nothing in particular, when I saw him. A boy stood across in A Wing, someone I had never seen before. He looked around my age, maybe slightly taller, with neatly styled hair that somehow looked natural rather than forced. He wasn't doing anything special, just standing there, but something about him caught my attention immediately. It didn't take long for it to click—he had to be from the new family that had just moved in.
It was around eleven, quiet and unhurried, the kind of morning where nothing really happens. But suddenly, I felt like something had. Without thinking much about it, I turned and ran downstairs.
"Nash!" I called out as soon as I reached his place, slightly out of breath.
He stepped out, confused. "What happened?"
"I just saw the new guy," I said quickly. "Opposite wing. He's there right now."
Nash blinked once, then nodded. That was enough. We didn't need to say anything else.
We rushed toward A Wing, and for the first time since moving in, I used that lift. It felt like a mistake almost immediately. The lift shook slightly as it moved and even stopped midway once before continuing. I glanced at Nash, and he looked back at me. Neither of us said anything, but we both knew—we probably shouldn't have trusted it. Still, we reached.
Standing outside his door felt oddly serious, like we were about to do something much bigger than it actually was. "You ring it," Nash said quietly. "No, you do it," I replied immediately. "You saw him first." "So?" "So you ring it." We stood there for longer than necessary, arguing over something that should have taken a second. Eventually, we decided I'd press the bell while both of us stayed there.
I pressed it.
After a few seconds, the door opened. A woman stood there—most likely his mother. We greeted her politely and welcomed her to the society, trying to sound more confident than we actually were. Then something unexpected happened.
"You're Soren, right?" she asked.
I froze for a moment. I hadn't told her my name, and it wasn't like I was someone people just knew. She noticed the confusion on my face and smiled. "Your uncle and my husband are good friends," she explained. "He told us about you before we moved here."
That explained it, though it still felt strange.
While she spoke, I glanced inside and saw a girl pass by quickly, holding a water bottle before disappearing into a room. She looked around our age—probably his sister. I didn't think much of it at the time.
"You two must be here for Axel, right?" his mother asked. Nash and I nodded immediately.
"He's not home right now," she said, "but he'll be back by three."
I hesitated for a second before asking, "Can he come play with us later? Around four?"
"Of course," she replied warmly.
That was it. Simple, easy, and somehow more important than it should have been.
The rest of the day passed like any other. Lunch, then studies—three hours that felt longer than they should have. By the time I checked the clock, it was four, my favorite time of the day. I stepped out into the corridor again, almost out of habit, and there he was—sitting on the ramp with a bat in his hand.
Axel.
I didn't waste time. I rushed downstairs through the back gate, called Nash, and we walked toward him together.
"Hi, Axel, I'm—"
"Soren," he said, smiling. "And you must be Nash."
I paused for a second, then let out a small laugh. "Yeah."
"My mom told me about you both," he added.
Up close, he seemed easy to talk to—polite, calm, and confident without trying too hard. As we spoke, I noticed faint black marks on his neck. "Did something happen?" I asked.
He smiled casually. "It's a birthmark. Nothing serious."
Soon after, Chase and Cedar arrived, and introductions happened quickly. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation. It all felt natural, like it had already been meant to happen.
Since there were five of us, Nash became the common player, and the teams were set—Axel and I against Chase and Cedar. We won the toss and chose to bat. I opened the innings, playing safe, focusing on timing rather than power. A few clean shots, nothing risky. Then Axel took the strike.
Cedar bowled first—fast, accurate, and easily the best among us. Axel stepped forward on the very first ball and hit it straight for a six. For a moment, no one reacted. Then everything broke into noise. The next ball went for four, and just like that, the tone of the game changed.
He was the complete opposite of me. Where I played steady, he went all in. And somehow, it worked perfectly together.
We put up 80 runs. Axel scored 35, I made 40, and Nash… added 5.
"Why do you score more for them than for us?" I teased him.
He laughed. "Maybe they pay better."
When it was their turn, things started well for us. I bowled tight overs, Axel followed with precise deliveries, and we managed to take a few early wickets. Chase fell quickly, Nash followed soon after, but Cedar didn't.
He didn't slow down. He didn't hesitate. He just kept hitting—every direction, every gap, every chance.
He scored 63.
We lost.
But it didn't matter.
We still cheered for him.
Because it felt right.
Because something had already formed.
We sat under the evening sun, tired but satisfied, when a voice called out, "Axel!"
I looked up and saw her—the same girl from earlier. She walked toward us, clearly annoyed. "I've been calling you from the corridor forever. You didn't even look."
Axel laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, Grace. I was trying to get Cedar out."
Grace.
So that was her name.
She stood there in the sunlight, which felt too harsh for that moment. "You should come stand in the shade," I said without thinking. "It's too hot."
She looked at me sharply at first, like I had interrupted her, but then her expression softened. She smiled—and that smile stayed.
"I'm Grace," she said. "Axel's sister."
"I'm Soren," I replied.
"Nice to meet you."
Something about that moment felt different. Not big. Not obvious. Just… there.
After a moment, she remembered why she had come, took Axel with her, and said goodbye.
When Nash, Chase, and Cedar returned, they noticed immediately. "What was that?" Chase asked.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "We were just talking."
They didn't question it.
And I didn't explain.
Because I didn't want to.
Some moments feel better when you keep them to yourself.
That one… stayed.