The city didn't welcome me quietly.
It roared.
Car horns blared from every direction, tall buildings stretched into the sky like they were competing with the clouds, and people walked fast—like they all had somewhere important to be. I stood at the bus terminal gripping my suitcase, feeling very small in a very big place.
So this is it, I thought.
The big city.
Silvercrest Academy was only a few streets away. At least, that's what the map on my phone said—though it didn't help much when every street looked the same and every face was unfamiliar.
I dragged my suitcase forward, trying not to look lost.
Then I saw her.
She was standing across the street, arguing with someone—her hands flying dramatically, her voice loud enough to cut through the city noise. My heart skipped.
No way.
She looked exactly like her. Same posture. Same attitude. Same way of tilting her head when she was annoyed.
"Lia?" I muttered under my breath.
Before I could stop myself, I crossed the street, anger bubbling for reasons I didn't understand. If this really was her, then why hadn't she told me she was in the city?
"Hey!" I snapped, grabbing her arm.
She spun around sharply. "What is your—"
We froze.
Her eyes widened.
Mine burned.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Then she squinted at my face, studying me like a puzzle she almost remembered.
And suddenly, she grinned.
"Oh my days," she said slowly. "Is this… the girl who cried because her ice cream fell into the gutter?"
My breath caught.
That was it.
Our childhood joke.
The one no one else knew.
"Only because someone pushed me," I shot back, my voice shaking. "And then laughed instead of apologizing."
She gasped dramatically and pulled me into a tight hug. "IT'S YOU!"
I laughed—actually laughed—for the first time since arriving.
"Lia," I breathed. "I thought I was imagining things."
She pulled back, hands on my shoulders, eyes sparkling. "You're really here. In the city. Wait—don't tell me." She glanced at my suitcase. "Silvercrest Academy?"
I nodded.
Her mouth fell open. "No way. I go there."
That explained everything.
The city suddenly didn't feel so scary anymore.
The person she had been arguing with muttered something and walked away, completely forgotten. Lia grabbed my suitcase like it weighed nothing.
"Come on," she said. "You're not walking into this place alone. Not on your first day."
As we walked, she talked nonstop—about school, teachers, dorm rules, city gossip. I listened, smiling, my heart lighter than it had been all morning.
Maybe this city wouldn't swallow me whole after all.
But as we turned the corner and Silvercrest Academy came into view—tall, intimidating, beautiful—I felt it again.
That strange tightness in my chest.
Because deep down, I knew this reunion wasn't just a coincidence.
And that the city hadn't finished surprising me yet.