The Letter That Changed Everything

Elies tapped her pen against her lips, her fingers hesitating over the paper in front of her. The classroom was buzzing with voices, her friends chatting nearby, but Elies was locked in her own world—one of anticipation, nerves, and a little bit of hope.

She had written and rewritten the letter so many times, each draft more embarrassing than the last. Now, after an entire week of agonizing over every word, she had finally managed to put her feelings into something coherent.

"Dear Chris," she murmured softly to herself, reading over her letter one last time. It was short and simple, but she hoped it would be enough.

*Dear Chris,*

*I know this might come as a surprise, but I wanted to tell you how I feel. We’ve been in the same classes since tenth grade, and I don’t know when it started, but I really like you. I know you’re busy with basketball and everything, but I just wanted you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same way, I wanted to get it off my chest.*

*—Elies Robert*

A simple letter. Nothing too fancy, nothing that screamed desperation, she hoped. Just honest words.

Her heart fluttered as she imagined Chris reading it, the way he might smile, or maybe laugh and tell her she was brave for confessing like this. Chris was friendly, kind, and approachable—the complete opposite of Damien Blackwood, the school’s resident troublemaker who never seemed to take anything seriously.

With a sigh, Elies folded the letter neatly and tucked it into an envelope. She wrote "Chris" on the front in her neat handwriting, then took a deep breath, clutching it to her chest. This was it. She was finally doing it.

---

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and students began filing out of the cafeteria. Elies looked around, hoping to spot Chris, but no luck. He was probably already in the gym, practicing with the basketball team. She didn’t want to give him the letter in front of everyone, so she’d planned to slip it into his locker.

Elies made her way through the crowded hallway, weaving between classmates who were laughing, chatting, and lingering around their lockers. The school atmosphere was a mixture of laughter, whispers, and the metallic clanking of lockers being slammed shut.

Finally, she reached Chris’s locker—number 248, right between the posters for the upcoming basketball game and the faded motivational quotes the school had plastered everywhere. She glanced around, her heart pounding. It was now or never.

"Come on, just slide it in," she muttered to herself, her hands trembling as she reached forward with the letter.

But just as she was about to slip it through the small gap in his locker, a loud crash echoed from behind her, causing her to jump. She whirled around to see Damien Blackwood leaning casually against a locker, surrounded by his usual group of friends, looking every bit as smug and self-assured as always.

He was laughing about something, his eyes dark with mischief as he glanced over the crowd, his gaze somehow stopping on her. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. Elies quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing as she turned back to Chris’s locker.

This was ridiculous. It was just a letter, she told herself. Chris was a nice guy—he wouldn’t make fun of her. And yet, with Damien standing just a few feet away, her confidence wavered.

Trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, she slid the letter into what she thought was Chris’s locker and hurried away before her courage could fail her completely. She felt a strange thrill mixed with relief as she rushed down the hallway, already imagining how Chris would react when he found it.

---

What Elies didn’t know was that she had slipped the letter not into Chris’s locker, but into locker 249—Damien Blackwood’s locker.

---

That afternoon, Elies was in history class, trying to focus on her notes when a loud, unmistakable laugh broke through her thoughts. She froze. There was only one person at Oakwood High who had that laugh.

Damien.

She dared a glance over her shoulder, and there he was, leaning back in his chair, his legs sprawled out as he unfolded a small piece of paper with a look of utter delight on his face. His friends, Jake and Ryan, were leaning over to read it, their smirks growing by the second.

Her heart sank.

He was reading her letter.

Oh no.

Elies felt the color drain from her face as she watched Damien’s eyes scan the letter, his brows raising in surprise before his lips twisted into a wide, wicked grin. He caught her gaze across the room, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something that looked dangerously close to interest.

"So, Robert," he drawled, holding the letter up as if he’d won the lottery. "I didn’t know you had a thing for me."

A wave of gasps and whispers spread through the classroom like wildfire. Elies’ heart pounded so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words stuck in her throat.

This couldn’t be happening. Out of all the people who could have found her letter, it had to be Damien Blackwood.

"You’re kidding, right?" she managed to stammer, her face redder than ever. "That’s—that’s not for you!"

But Damien only looked more amused. "Oh, I don’t know. Seems pretty specific to me," he teased, reading a line out loud in an exaggerated tone. "'I wanted to tell you how I feel.' Well, I have to admit, I’m flattered."

Elies wanted to sink into the floor. She could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on her, some amused, some sympathetic, and others just waiting for the next bit of drama. Her cheeks burned, and she clenched her fists, wanting nothing more than to snatch the letter from Damien’s hands and shred it into a million pieces.

"But you know," he continued, his smirk widening as he leaned back in his seat, "if you wanted to confess, you could have just told me directly. No need for this love letter nonsense."

The class erupted in laughter, and Elies felt her face burning hotter than ever. "It’s not for you!" she hissed, finally finding her voice. "It was a mistake! Give it back!"

"Not for me, huh?" Damien chuckled, holding the letter just out of reach as she tried to grab it. "Then tell me—who was it for?"

Elies swallowed, feeling trapped. If she told him it was for Chris, she’d just be dragging her real crush into this nightmare. But if she didn’t say anything, Damien would only keep teasing her, probably for the rest of the year.

"That’s none of your business," she shot back, trying to sound confident even as her voice wobbled.

"Guess it’s my business now," he replied, folding the letter and slipping it into his pocket with a grin. "Tell you what, Robert—since you went through all the trouble to write it, I’ll take it as a confession. Congrats, you’re now officially my girlfriend."

The room fell into stunned silence. Elies felt her jaw drop, unable to believe what she’d just heard. Damien’s "girlfriend"? That was absurd. He had to be joking.

"Are you crazy?" she stammered, her voice rising in panic. "I’m not— I didn’t—"

But Damien just shrugged, looking completely unbothered. "Hey, I don’t make the rules. You wrote the letter. I accept."

Elies couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She glanced around the room, hoping someone would come to her defense, but everyone seemed either too amused or too entertained to intervene. Even the teacher, who had clearly overheard the exchange, just rolled her eyes and muttered something about “teenage dramatics” before returning to her notes.

This couldn’t be happening.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Damien gave her a wink and strolled out of the room, still holding her letter. Elies sat frozen in her seat, her mind racing. She had to get that letter back. This was all a huge misunderstanding, and she wasn’t about to let Damien Blackwood ruin her last month of school.

---

During the break, she cornered him by his locker, where he stood casually, flipping through her letter as if it were the most amusing thing he’d ever read.

“Give it back, Damien,” she demanded, crossing her arms and glaring up at him.

He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. “Now why would I do that? It’s so... heartfelt,” he replied with a smirk, tapping the letter against his chest. “You really put a lot of emotion into this. Makes a guy feel special.”

“It wasn’t for you!” she shot back, reaching for the letter again, but he held it just out of reach, his grin widening.

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure you wrote my name right here,” he teased, pointing to the “Chris” on the envelope. “Easy mistake to make, though. Just think of it as fate.”

“Fate?” she

sputtered. “This isn’t fate! This is... this is...”

“Adorable?” he suggested, chuckling at her frustration.