Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 12

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Montage ends with the six of us sharing cotton candy and fries under string lights, the sky turning gold and pink as the sun began to set. Music played somewhere in the distance, the whole park glowing with warm light, like we were living in a movie. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was just here, in this moment, with people who made me feel less alone.

And I didn’t want it to end.

After dinner---yes, Jollibee, to the horror of the boys who claimed their “cool factor” would drop but devoured every piece of Chickenjoy anyway, we made our way back into the glowing heart of the park. The night had grown softer, the chaos settling into something slower, dreamlike.

We lined up for the ferris wheel. It spun like a halo in the distance, casting light over our faces as we paired off.
Tim and Inez climbed into their cart, her giant teddy bear squished between them. Corey and Drake followed, Corey cradling the goldfish like a newborn.

Then it was just me and James.

The attendant opened the gate, and James offered his hand like a gentleman from a different era. I rolled my eyes but took it. His palm was warm. Familiar.

We settled into the cart and the wheel jerked upward, giving us a slow, rising view of the entire park bathed in neon and starlight.

For a while, we said nothing. Just sat in silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled.

Then I said softly, “Thank you.”

He looked over, eyebrows raised.

“For today,” I clarified. “It’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun. Since I’ve… felt this light.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Just stared ahead, like he was gathering his thoughts, or maybe trying to breathe them out before they overwhelmed him.

Then, slowly, he reached for my hand. His fingers brushed mine, tentative at first, then certain.

“You make me want to be better,” he said. “Even when you’re not trying. Especially when you’re not trying.”

I turned to him, heart skidding a little. “James---”

“I’m used to people not expecting anything good from me. It’s easier that way. Less pressure. No one’s ever looked at me like you do. Like I’m… worth something.”
He exhaled sharply. “With you, I don’t want to be that guy everyone expects me to be. I just want to---change. For real.”

And maybe I should’ve said something profound back. But all I could do was look at him.

He looked at me too. Our faces closer now. That quiet gravity pulling us in again, the way it did in the beach, in all those almosts we never quite finished.

Our breaths tangled.
I could feel it building---
That pause.
That tension.
Another chance.
Another almost.

And then---
BOOM.

A burst of red exploded across the sky. Then blue. Then gold.

Fireworks.

Again.

James blinked, looking up. I let out a soft sigh---not annoyed, not even surprised. Just… resigned.

We didn’t laugh this time. We just smiled.

Because maybe some moments didn’t need a kiss to matter. Maybe some moments were perfect precisely because they almost were something more.

We leaned back, fingers still laced, and watched the sky light up like it was trying to say all the things we couldn’t.

And in that moment, it was enough.

By the time James pulled up in front of our house, the windows of our living room were already dark. The porch light flickered, a stubborn, yellow glow against the night.

We didn’t say much after the ferris wheel. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing against mine on the console, like he wanted to hold it but wasn’t sure if he should. I didn’t offer it either. I just… let the silence carry us home.

When we stopped, he turned to me.
“Today was…” he started, then paused. “Special.”

I nodded. “It was.”

He smiled, just slightly. Not the smug one he shows in class or the teasing one he saves for group chats. This one was softer. Honest.

“Goodnight, Betty.”

“Goodnight, James.”

I stepped out and didn’t look back until I heard the engine pull away.

Inside, the house was quiet. Dad must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. The TV was still on, the volume low. I tiptoed past it and climbed the stairs. I stood in front of the mirror in my room, turning slightly. The butterfly bracelet on my wrist shimmered in the light. I touched it carefully, like it might dissolve if I pressed too hard.

I thought of everything.
The way Matt talked about expectations.
The way Inez leaned into Tim’s shoulder like she belonged there.
Corey’s goldfish.
James’s voice in the ferris wheel.

“You make me want to be better.”

I laid down, not bothering to change. My body sank into the mattress, heavy but content.

And just before my eyes closed, I whispered, not to anyone in particular, “Thank you.”

For what, I wasn’t even sure.
Maybe for the kind of day I didn’t know I needed.
Maybe for feeling a little more alive than I have in a long time.

The pink dress rustled gently as I turned to my side.

And for the first time in a long time…
I didn’t fall asleep crying.