SHE ONLY DID HER CLASSMATES’ HOMEWORK FOR MONEY—UNTIL ONE LOVE LETTER CHANGED EVERYTHING
Chapter 5
Mia began writing again.
But this time, she wasn’t writing homework for classmates.
She started keeping a private journal.
She wrote about ordinary things.
The smell of coffee in the morning.
The sound of rain against her dorm window.
Jason’s terrible jokes.
The way Elena always touched Jason’s arm when she laughed.
The feeling she had when someone remembered her favorite drink.
The strange warmth of being invited somewhere.
She didn’t know why she was writing these things.
Maybe because she was finally noticing her own life.
One evening, Jason found her in the library.
“What are you writing?”
“Nothing.”
He smiled.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s private.”
“Fair.”
He sat down.
“I have something.”
“What?”
He handed her an envelope.
Mia looked at it.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a handwritten note.
She read it.
It was short.
No elaborate metaphors.
No complicated language.
Just a simple thank-you.
You helped me say something I was too afraid to say.
But somehow, you also helped me realize how much I had been afraid to feel.
Mia read it twice.
Then looked at Jason.
“You wrote this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re improving.”
He laughed.
“Thank you.”
She folded it carefully.
“I’ll keep it.”
Jason smiled.
“Good.”
He stood.
Then asked:
“Are you free Saturday?”
“Why?”
“There’s a bookstore downtown.”
“I have studying.”
“Sunday?”
“Studying.”
“Monday?”
“Class.”
“Tuesday?”
“Work.”
“Wednesday?”
Mia looked at him.
“You’re persistent.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
“Saturday.”
Jason smiled.
“Saturday.”
Their bookstore trip lasted four hours.
They argued over novels.
Shared coffee.
Walked through a park.
Mia discovered that Jason loved poetry despite pretending he didn’t.
Jason discovered that Mia secretly liked romantic novels.
“You read these?”
“Sometimes.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
Mia looked at the cover.
“I think people like imagining feelings are easier than they really are.”
Jason smiled.
“Maybe.”
They sat on a bench.
Mia looked at him.
“Do you think love lasts?”
Jason thought.
“I think people choose whether to make it last.”
“That sounds difficult.”
“It is.”
“Then why do it?”
He looked at her.
“Because some things are worth the difficulty.”
Mia didn’t respond.
She looked down at her hands.
Her heart was beating faster.
She knew the feeling.
She had read about it.
She had written about it.
But experiencing it was completely different.
That evening, she lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
She replayed the day.
Jason’s smile.
His voice.
The way he looked at her.
She whispered:
“No.”
She didn’t want this.
Feelings were dangerous.
They could hurt.
They could disappear.
They could make her dependent on another person.
She had built her life around independence.
But another thought appeared.
Maybe independence didn’t mean never needing anyone.
Maybe it meant choosing someone without losing yourself.
Mia didn’t know the answer.
But for the first time, she wanted to find out.
