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Last Class

The halls felt quieter than usual.
Not actually—but in my head, everything was muffled.
Like the world was wrapped in cotton, or snow, or silence that didn't want to be broken.

Joost was already in the classroom when I arrived, perched on the edge of the desk like he always was, coffee in hand, hoodie sleeves pushed up.

The same, but not.

Because this was the last time he'd be here.

Officially.

I took my usual seat—second row, slightly to the left.
He glanced at me once. That tiny smile. The one only I knew the meaning of.

⸻

The room filled slowly.
Milan slid into the seat beside me, whispering, "He better cry or I riot."
Julius sat behind us, already scribbling in his notebook like he wasn't emotionally invested, but we all knew he was.
Isa came in last. Cast gone. Eyes sharp.
She didn't look at me. I didn't need her to.

Joost clapped his hands once and said, "So. I guess this is it."

A groan from the class.

He held up his hands. "Don't be dramatic. It's been a month, not a year. I'm not your stepdad."

"You're not? Then who was making me breakfast this whole time?" Milan said... joking.

Laughter.

Joost shook his head, amused.

⸻

He didn't really teach that day.
Just talked.

About what it meant to create. To experiment.
To fall on your face and make something beautiful out of the wreck.

He played a few clips from songs he'd written early in his career.
Some of them were awful—on purpose.

We laughed.

And then he played one he hadn't shown anyone before.
Raw. Acoustic. Half-sung, half-spoken.

It was short, and he didn't explain it.
But I knew it was for me.

I felt it.

Right in my sternum.

⸻

When the class ended, no one moved right away.

Joost stood in the center, looking a little uncomfortable with all the eyes on him.

"Well," he said finally, "this was... chaotic. And also kind of the best thing I've done in a while."

He got a weak applause. Then Milan stood up and started clapping like they were at the Oscars.
Julius followed.
Then the rest of the room.

I stayed seated.

I just watched.

And when he looked at me again, it wasn't a goodbye.

It was a see you later.

⸻

After everyone left, I stayed behind.
He pretended to organize papers.

"You don't have any papers," I said.

"Shut up, I'm being dramatic."

I smiled.

He looked up.

"I'm going to Leeuwarden tomorrow," he said. "Just a few days. My sister needs help with something."

I nodded. "You'll come back though."

"I always do."

He walked over to me slowly.

I stood.

We didn't kiss.

We didn't touch.

We just looked at each other like the air between us was doing the work.

"Meet me tonight," he said.

"Where?"

He smiled. "Anywhere you want."