Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 16

The van started moving, the engine humming louder as we pulled away from my street.

Everyone went back to their own little corners of energy, Drake teasing Corey about packing too many outfits, Inez listing every food she planned to eat, Tim lost in a world of silence. But me? I stayed in that strange limbo. Looking sideways at James, who kept stealing glances at me beneath those sunglasses. And then turning slightly to peek through the mirror.

Matt. His face unreadable now, but his eyes… they felt like they were watching every second.

And maybe, just maybe, reading between every glance James and I shared.

We made a few stopovers on the way, mostly unplanned, mostly spontaneous. The kind of stops that happen when the view is just too pretty to pass up. The road curled and bent through the northern countryside, and every now and then someone would yell, “Stop here!” and James would pull the van over with a grin and no complaints.

We took pictures on the edge of cliffs where the wind blew so hard it almost took my dress with it. We posed in front of centuries-old churches, their stone walls warm from the sun and smelling faintly of dust and devotion. Inez even asked a stranger to take a group photo while she instructed us all like a seasoned director: “James, stop slouching. Betty, fix your hair. Corey, Drake, look like you like each other!”

It was during one of those stopovers, somewhere near a ridge with a view of the sea way down below, that Corey and Drake almost got into a full-blown fight.

“Bro, just press the shutter, how hard is that?” Corey snapped, snatching the phone back.

“You moved! Your whole face was like mid-sneeze,” Drake shot back, laughing.

“Then take another!”

They bickered like a sitcom duo, James watching from the side with an amused smirk, Tim somewhere behind them, still quiet, holding a bottle of water like it was the only thing tethering him to earth.

Inez and Tim weren’t talking much, but Inez still pulled him in for some pictures. She tossed her arm around his shoulder, posed them both toward the sea, and said softly, “Memories to remember once our misunderstanding is over.”

She smiled for the camera. He did too, but only with his mouth, not his eyes.

James and I took a couple of photos, too. Him in his white sando, me in my yellow dress. The sun lit the beads on my blazer like fireflies. In one picture, I looked up at him and laughed. In another, he was mid-wink. My phone caught it all.

I looked over at Matt, standing a little apart from the rest of us.

He was holding his phone up, taking pictures of the landscape, not of us. He hadn’t asked anyone for photos, hadn’t joined any of the chaos. He just stood there quietly, framing cliffs and clouds, the ocean in the distance.

“I’ll be back,” I whispered to James.

He nodded, and turned toward the boys, who were now debating if Drake's angles made everyone’s heads look huge.

I walked over, careful not to slip on the gravel. Matt didn’t notice me until I was close enough to cast a shadow over his shoes.

“You want some pictures?” I asked.

He turned, and his face lit up. A real smile, wide and boyish, like I’d just offered him candy.

He was wearing a sky blue polo, unbuttoned over a white sleeveless gym shirt. His khaki trousers looked freshly ironed. And the shoes, white rubber shoes, were somehow completely spotless, even out here in the dust and wind.