Chapter 1

The September breeze carried sycamore leaves onto the steps of Olktol High School's old building, reminding me of the broken twilight from when I was seventeen.

My name was Estelle Holt. I was twenty-six.

Nine years later, I found myself once again at the doorway of Senior Class 7. My fingers brushed over the faint carvings on the desk. They were little stars I'd secretly etched, and beside them, the name "Noah" scratched out.

The wind swept through the hallway, bringing the crisp chill of early autumn. Suddenly, I remembered Noah Wesley standing by the window.

He wore a white shirt and had a slender silhouette, paired with a mysterious, melancholic look in his eyes. Yet whenever his gaze met mine, a gentle glow would flicker there, just for me.

We were the hidden heartbeat of each other's youth, the glimmer that lit up our darkness, the ones who promised to take the SAT and head south together, chasing every mountain and sea.

But later, he pushed me away with words colder than winter, and left me with a back turned so decisively, forcing me to carry a heart full of misunderstandings and resentment for nine whole years.

It wasn't until I received that dust-covered diary and learned he had already passed away that I finally understood. All his indifference was hidden love meant to protect me, and every painful split was a forced farewell he couldn't control.

Estelle's star would rise, then fade away,

That boy, Noah, would never come back.

My youth was laid to rest with him, back in that unforgettable summer.

*****

When I was seventeen, Olktol High School was surrounded by sycamore trees. The endless screeching of summer cicadas made everyone restless, and the countdown on the blackboard ticked down day by day. The pressure of the SAT year was suffocating. Nobody could breathe easy.

I was Estelle Holt, an average student. I was quiet, introverted, not much of a talker. My only hobby was doodling stars, sunsets, and the sycamores outside the window on scrap paper.

My family was nothing special. My parents were always working out of town, so I lived with my grandma. Sensitive and insecure, I was always invisible in a crowd.

I got used to being on my own, drawing at my desk between classes, taking my time walking home with my backpack after school. No friends, no expectations.

All I wanted was to make it through SAT year in peace, get into any ordinary college, and finally escape this suffocating little town.

My life was supposed to be as dull and still as a pond. Nothing ever happened, nothing ever changed. But then Noah Wesley crashed in like a falling star, stirring up everything and shattering my quiet world.

Noah was the new transfer. On the first day of SAT year, he stood at the front of the class with a black backpack, tall and lean, his face cold and aloof, lips pressed tight. He radiated an icy distance that warned everyone to keep away.

He was a genius, known all over Olktol, but because of his family, he'd switched schools more times than anyone could count. People whispered he was a loner, never spoke to anyone, and some even claimed there was something off about him.

The teacher glanced at the seating chart, then pointed to the empty spot beside me. "Noah, take the seat next to Estelle. She's quiet. She won't distract you."

My hand paused with my pen in hand as I looked up, and our eyes met.

His gaze was cool and distant like a late-autumn lake. But when he looked at me, it lingered for a heartbeat.

Noah walked over and took the seat next to me, pulling out his chair so quietly it barely made a sound. He grabbed his textbook from his backpack and quietly opened it, not saying a word the whole time.

And just like that, our journey as seat partners began.

At first, there was an invisible wall between us. No words, no interaction.

I doodled my stars. He was buried in his worksheets. During breaks, I'd be spacing out at my desk, while he leaned by the window, watching the sycamores. We never bothered each other, like two parallel lines.

I thought that was how things would always be until the SAT was over, and we'd become strangers again.

But then came the monthly exam. I bombed my math test. Staring at that brutal score, I buried my head in my arms and quietly cried, my shoulders trembling.

Then, a hand with long, slender fingers gently slid a tissue and a sheet with the solution over to me.

I looked up and met Noah's eyes. His face was still expressionless, but there was a barely noticeable warmth in his gaze.

"You got the approach wrong on this one," Noah said, his voice low and clear, like a breeze brushing over strings.

I took the tissue, wiped my tears, and whispered "thank you," my cheeks burning.

That was the first time we ever spoke.

After that, our lives started to intertwine more and more.

If I got so absorbed in my drawing that I forgot about lunch, he'd quietly slide his sandwich over to me. When my period cramps left me pale and shaky, he'd slip out to the nurse's office and come back with a cup of hot cocoa.

And if I zoned out in class and got called on, he'd shield me with his textbook and whisper the answer.

Noah was still cool and distant, still barely said a word, but whenever I needed him, he'd always reach out quietly.

I realized that this boy, who seemed so cold on the outside, was actually incredibly attentive.

He always remembered I loved strawberry hard candy, so he'd keep a few on him just for me. He knew I was scared of the dark, so after those late-night study sessions, he'd quietly follow behind me until I made it safely to the neighborhood gate.

And sometimes, he'd sneak a little mark next to the stars I drew, making them sparkle just a bit brighter.