Between Shadows and Sunlight

Chapter 1

After finishing her duties for the day, Isabella White found herself alone in the classroom, just as dusk settled outside.
She turned off the fan and lights, neatly signing her name on the duty roster with meticulous strokes. Her classmates, who shared the duty with her, had departed early, and she had helped them sign in, just like she always did.
Sitting by the window, she organized her math papers, tucking them away in her folder. Glancing outside, she noticed a group of boys playing basketball on the outdoor court, their cheers and shouts echoing as a few girls ambled around the field, their eyes occasionally darting shyly toward the game.
Her gaze locked onto a boy near the outermost hoop. He was tall with broad shoulders and long legs, sporting a neatly cropped haircut and a tanned complexion—not conventionally handsome, but striking in his own right.
Dressed in a red t-shirt, he had tossed his gym jacket carelessly onto a bench beside the bike rack. He sprinted after a loose ball, leaping high to take a shot as the setting sun highlighted his athletic build. The ball danced on the rim for a moment but ultimately rolled off, landing with a thud on the ground.
He stretched his arms, shoulders rising in a resigned shrug. A teammate came over, draping an arm around his shoulder and playfully punching his gut, and the two doubled over, sharing a laugh.
Unlike the handsome yet aloof team captain nearby, this boy's shot wasn’t perfect, nor did any younger girls sneak drinks decorated with little notes on his jacket.
Isabella White continued to watch him quietly. He chased the ball across the half-court, running back and forth, before signaling for a break. He stepped off the court, hands on his hips to catch his breath, and then strolled towards his backpack. He pulled out a water bottle to quench his thirst.
It felt disappointing that she was too far away to fully appreciate the little details—like the way he lifted his chin, or how his Adam's apple bobbed when he drank. She imagined that if only she could see him up close, she might witness the water trickling from the corner of his mouth, mingling with sweat on his neck and soaking into his t-shirt, leaving dark patches on his chest.
After lowering the bottle, he faced away from the field and lifted his shirt slightly, using the fabric to wipe the sweat from his face.
From her vantage point, all she could see was a glimpse of his back and the curve of his waist, the skin beneath the fabric a healthy shade of tan.
Isabella, who wore glasses but found them lacking, suddenly thought that perhaps she should get a new pair—at least one that could help her see things more clearly, like the waistband of his shorts.
Just then, the classroom door creaked open.
The door had been broken for months, always squeaking loudly when pushed open.
She subtly shifted her gaze away and resumed packing her papers, putting on a facade of calmness.
"You're still here? It’s getting late," Sebastian Blackwood said, giving the door a gentle tap with the folder he was carrying, his voice even.
Isabella didn’t know him well; she only recognized him as the student body president from the neighboring class—someone who got excellent grades and rarely smiled.
“Sorry, I’m on duty today,” she replied softly, implying that she’d be leaving soon.
“And the others?”
“They've already left.”
Sebastian frowned at her response, but it was just for a brief moment. He stood there for a while, looking at her with an unexpressive gaze before putting the folder behind him and walking away.
“Make it quick,” he said coolly.
Isabella turned back towards the field, where the athletic director was urging students to wrap things up, while the custodian was securing the equipment room. She noticed the boy in the red shirt pick up his backpack and gym jacket, preparing to head out with his friends.
One hand still dribbled the basketball, performing what seemed like new tricks he'd just mastered. But just as he tried to dazzle, another player snatched the ball away, and the two began a playful chase behind the bike racks, eliciting a shout from the director: "You guys from 8th grade, stop running! You’re in violation!"

Chapter 2

As I stepped into White Manor, the grand foyer greeted me with its polished marble floors and towering chandeliers. The soft light cascaded down, casting a warm glow that made the sprawling family portraits around the walls seem almost alive. This was home—not just a place, but a sanctuary.
“Isabella! You’re late!” my grandmother Agnes called from the dining room, her voice lilting with that familiar mix of affection and expectation. I rushed through the archway, the aroma of roasted chicken and herbs wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
“Sorry, Grandma! Traffic was awful around Kingston,” I replied, setting my tote bag down on the intricately carved wooden chair beside the table. Grandfather Edward sat at the head of the table, his reading glasses perched low on his nose, scanning through the financial news section of the day’s edition.
“Don’t let it happen again,” he said lightly, giving me a wink that told me all was forgiven. I couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the weight of my earlier stress dissipate in their presence.
Dinner commenced, and as we gathered around the banquet table, laughter filled the room. My cousin Arthur shared an outlandish story from his classes at Zebulon University, his hands animatedly illustrating the ridiculousness of his professor’s latest lecture on sustainable architecture. I let the warmth of family wash over me, reminding me of why I loved coming home.
Just then, my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down to see a message from Sebastian Blackwood, my confidant and sometimes troublemaker. “Are you free this weekend? Let’s plan an adventure. I’ve got something in mind.” My heart raced at the thought of spending time with him; there was always excitement attached to Sebastian, a spark that could easily ignite the mundane.
As dinner wrapped up, the conversation shifted to the upcoming charity gala at the Great Hall. Clara Goodwin, a mutual friend and fellow organizer, was spearheading the event.
“Isabella, you’ll help with decorations, right?” she asked with a hopeful glance.
“Of course! I’d love to,” I responded enthusiastically. It was an opportunity to step out, to mingle with the community and perhaps see Sebastian again.
After dinner, I excused myself to the Rented Chamber where I often retreated to think. Sitting by the window, I gazed out at the sprawling gardens lit gently by the evening sun. My thoughts whirled around Sebastian, our past adventures and the chemistry that lingered between us.
Suddenly, a knock at the door broke my reverie. It was Nicholas Grey, Arthur’s younger brother, who had a penchant for sneaking up at the most unexpected times.
“Hey, mind if I crash in here for a bit?” he said, slipping inside even before I could respond. “I need a break from the family chaos.”
“Of course! What’s got you wound up?” I asked, signaling him to take a seat.
“It’s just… I thought I had a handle on my crush on Clara, but now Arthur keeps bringing up her name like it’s all a joke. It’s frustrating, you know?” he vented, running a hand through his dark hair.
I nodded, understanding the trials of young love all too well. “Just be honest with her. Communication is key, right?”
As we chatted, I felt the clock ticking. The weekend was just a breath away, and I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something unexpected awaited. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, mingling with the peacefulness of the manor.
Little did I know, my plans for the weekend were about to take a twist that would change everything.
“Let’s make this weekend one to remember,” I said, a spark of excitement igniting in my chest. With family, friends, and a hint of adventure on the horizon, I was ready to embrace whatever came next.

Chapter 3

Isabella White stood at the edge of White Manor, her gaze sweeping over the sweeping lawns and those towering trees that whispered secrets of the past, as the cool autumn breeze tousled her hair. Despite the picturesque setting, a storm was brewing inside her—one that had nothing to do with the weather.
Today was the day she finally confronted Arthur Grey, her childhood friend turned bitter rival. For years they had danced around the truth, feigning civility as tensions simmered just below the surface. But Isabella was tired of wearing a mask; she needed to know where they stood, once and for all.
As she walked towards Greystead Hall, where Arthur now resided with his grandparents—Grandfather Edward and Grandmother Agnes Grey—her heart raced at the thought of facing him. Memories flooded back of their shared laughter and the bond they once had, now tarnished by jealousy and misunderstanding.
The imposing door creaked open, and there stood Arthur. He had matured, the once-boyish charm replaced with an air of responsibility and defiance. “Isa,” he greeted softly, a hint of nostalgia coloring his voice. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I’m sure you weren't,” she replied, her tone sharper than intended. “We need to talk, Arthur.”
He stepped aside, allowing her to enter the grand foyer. The opulence of the hall felt foreign and imposing, as if it were a silent witness to the tension that had brewed over the years. “About what?” he asked, closing the door behind her.
“About us,” she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. “About this rivalry that's been tearing us apart.”
Arthur's expression shifted. “You think this is just some game?”
“It feels like one,” she retorted, frustration bubbling over. “Every competition, every insult, it’s exhausting. Can’t we just be honest for once?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Honesty. You want to hear the truth? You’ve always had this relentless drive—I was just trying to keep up with you. But it’s like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”
Isabella crossed her arms, her heart pounding. “And I never wanted to drag you down, Arthur! This isn’t just about competition; it’s about friendship, trust. We used to rely on each other.”
“Rely on each other?” he scoffed. “You’re the one who always looked down on me, who thought I could never measure up.”
“Maybe I did at one point, but I’ve changed! We can change!” She stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “I want our friendship back. Can’t we just start over?”
His gaze softened, the wall he had built around his heart crackling with vulnerability. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do,” she replied, voice softening. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s just put this behind us and move forward.”
For a moment, they stood there, uncertainty mingling with hope. Finally, Arthur nodded, extending his hand. “Okay. Friends again?”
“Friends,” Isabella smiled, taking his hand firmly. As their fingers intertwined, a sense of calm washed over her, affirming that this was just the beginning of their newfound understanding.
As the autumn leaves crunched underfoot, reminding them of the change in seasons, Isabella felt lighter. Together, they walked out into the fresh air, both liberated from the tension that had clouded their past—ready to embrace the bonds they would strengthen anew.

Chapter 4

It was a sunny morning, and Arthur Grey lay sprawled across his desk, a physics textbook propped up to block the bright light streaming in from the window. A basketball rested by his feet, while his backpack lay tossed carelessly on the floor.
Tall and sturdy, Arthur preferred sitting in the back row, enjoying the freedom and comfort it brought him.
Isabella White walked into the classroom, clutching her English exam paper. She had carefully chosen not to wear the short-sleeved shirt that had gotten stained yesterday; despite the sweltering heat, she kept her school uniform jacket buttoned and neat.
Their English teacher taught both Isabella's class, Section 1, and Arthur's class, Section 8. After the first two periods of English with Section 1, the teacher often sent Isabella to Section 8 to deliver assignments or exam papers.
Nodding to the class representative in Section 8, she placed the documents on the desk, with Arthur’s paper prominently on top. The maximum score was 150, while the average for Section 1 was 130; Isabella had scored 80.
With a big red circle drawn around Arthur’s name, she immediately understood the implications: a conversation after class, tutoring, contacting his parents—a complete follow-up package.
She caught sight of him still sleeping at his desk. He had buried his head in his crossed arms, as if oblivious to the world, likely having spent the previous classes in blissful slumber.
Today, he wore a black T-shirt that clung to his broad back. The cool boys didn’t bother wearing their school’s short-sleeved shirts. Instead, they’d sport trendy tees while slinking around campus—only putting on their jackets when the principal was about. Despite numerous warnings from teachers, this rebellion only seemed to escalate.
"Isn’t it a bit hot wearing that much?" the class representative in Section 8 asked, expertly handing out the papers.
"I have a bit of a cold," Isabella replied calmly.
"Better watch out—you don't want to make it worse."
"Thanks, I know." She rolled up the attendance sheet and grabbed her things. "If there's nothing else, I’ll head out."
Leaving through the back door, she glanced back at Arthur one last time. He was so close she could almost reach out and touch him, yet he remained motionless.
It wasn’t often that she found herself this near him during the week.
His athletic shoes lay on the ground, legs casually spread apart, with dense hair covering his muscular calves. What a manly guy he was.
Isabella swallowed hard and gently closed the door, unable to shake the image of his legs wrapped around hers, her heart racing at the thought.
---
“Do you know that guy you play basketball with?” Isabella asked the gym captain during lunch.
“Who?”
“The tall one, Arthur.”
A smirk crossed the gym captain's face. “You into dark-haired guys now?”
Isabella shot back, “Your cool-guy act is totally shot.”
Were all guys her age like this? She thought. Acting aloof in front of other girls, but revealing their childish nature around friends.
“What’s it to you?” the gym captain asked, spinning his chair towards her in surprise. “What do you want to know about him?”
Isabella pondered seriously for a moment.
“I think he’s really handsome.”
She replied earnestly, catching the captain off-guard. She rarely saw him display such an expression.
“What did you just say?”
Isabella met his gaze steadily, repeating, “I think Arthur is really handsome.”
“You... you like him?”
After a short pause, she concluded, “No, I just think he’s good-looking.”
“Holy moly…” The gym captain widened his eyes. “That’s an interesting taste.”
“...” She fell silent.
“Just him? With that acne all over?”
“Actually, you have acne too.”
The gym captain blushed in embarrassment. “That’s teenage acne. It’ll clear up soon. Do you even know what that means?”
“Okay, okay, you’re right.”
“That’s pretty dismissive.”
“But seriously, Arthur's kind of a guy's guy—unlike Sebastian Blackwood, who’s just a blonde pretty boy.” The gym captain said as he placed his half-empty soda on her desk.
“You’re just jealous of how good-looking Sebastian is,” Isabella murmured under her breath.

Chapter 5

The gym officer seemed genuinely oblivious. He chuckled, "Arthur's a good guy, you should give it a shot."
"A shot at what?"
"Getting together, of course."
Isabella furrowed her brow. "I've already told you, I don't like him."
Liking his body and liking him as a person were two entirely different things. She could watch male models peak on x-art, but that didn't mean she wanted to date any of them.
"Come on, what’s there to be shy about?" The gym officer took on a mentor's tone. "Let me tell you, opportunities slip away with every indecisive moment."
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean, do you want me to help you?"
Isabella didn't appreciate his casual assumptions.
"No need." She folded the list of missing English assignments and stood up. "I'm not interested."
She just wanted to get close to Arthur because he was about to become the strong, sexy, and alluring hero of her yellow novel.
"Not at all? I know him pretty well," the gym officer teased from behind. "Wanna hear the story about him and his ex?"
"Excuse me. I'm heading to the English office."
"To do what?"
"The list of missing assignments." She waved the paper in her hand and heard the gym officer groan in protest.
"Wait for me! I'll finish it up in a sec."
---
Arthur received a pass from Nathaniel, swiftly pivoting past defenders and making his way to the basket.
"Arthur's got it!"
"Got it!" He returned the pass to Nathaniel, who went for a layup and scored, earning enthusiastic cheers from the surrounding girls.
"You're playing well today," Nathaniel tossed the ball to a nearby classmate and turned back to give Arthur a friendly pat on the shoulder.
Arthur shrugged.
"Ugh, the English teacher caught me again."
"What did you score? Another 90?" Nathaniel grinned mischievously.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" Arthur pushed Nathaniel's smiling face away. "It was an 80. Happy now?"
"Hey, not gonna lie, that's kinda rough."
"Is that a death wish, Nathaniel?"
Nathaniel made a goofy face. "Alright, chill. Why are you bummed about grades, anyway? You don’t have to study right now."
"I'm not worried about grades," Arthur sighed, gazing out at the court. "The English teacher wants me to stay after school tomorrow, so I might not be able to hang out with you guys."
"Oh no, we can’t have that! We work together too well; I’m not down for that."
"Trust me, I’m not thrilled either." Arthur raised his hands in frustration. "Can’t seem to catch a break these days."
Nathaniel leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "I’ve got some good news, wanna hear it?"
Arthur blinked, a hint of interest sparking. "Sure."
"Just call me 'Daddy' and I’ll tell you."
"…You idiot."
"Arthur, you jerk!"
"Enough." He let Nathaniel drape an arm around his shoulder. "What’s the news?"
"Lean in closer." Nathaniel adopted a mysterious expression. "There's a girl in our class who thinks you’re handsome."
Arthur froze for a second.
"Are you kidding me?" Frowning, he pushed Nathaniel away and sauntered toward the center of the court, feigning indifference.
Sure, he was good-looking.
He was self-aware enough to know that.
There were plenty of girls in their class, and he had never dated any of them, not that he needed to. They were the kind of studious good girls who should be with someone like Sebastian—charming and bound for success. He’d never been pursued by a girl before, and he wasn't foolish enough to think that this sort of novelty experience would come to him.
Nathaniel caught up with him. "Her name is Isabella. Ring a bell?"
Arthur searched his memory, finding it vaguely familiar but unable to pinpoint why. It felt as frustrating as his English listening exams.
"Who’s that?"
"Oh, you know, the white girl in our English class."
"There are a lot of white girls. How am I supposed to know which one you're talking about?"
Arthur tried to maintain a façade of indifference, but he couldn’t deny the eagerness lurking beneath for Nathaniel's answer.

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