As the final bell rang, the school corridors filled with students eager to head home. Laughter and chatter echoed through the halls, a stark contrast to the focused discussions still happening in small pockets around the building.
Diane slung her bag over her shoulder and turned to Anna. "Let's find a quiet place to talk before we leave."
Anna nodded, glancing at Jack, who had just finished stuffing his books into his bag. "Library?"
Jack shook his head. "Too crowded at this hour. How about the study hall? Most students don't hang around there after school."
Diane considered it for a moment before nodding. "Let's go."
The three of them made their way to the study hall, finding an empty corner where they could talk without interruption. The space was quiet except for the occasional rustle of pages from a few students scattered across the room.
Anna flipped open her notebook. "Okay, so we need to finalize how we're breaking down the research."
Diane leaned forward, scanning their notes. "We've covered traditional markets and their cultural significance, but we need stronger data on their economic impact."
Jack, who had been leaning back in his chair, finally spoke. "I looked into some case studies on how local markets contribute to regional economies. We can use them to back up our points." He slid his phone across the table, showing them an article
Diane pulled the phone closer, her eyes scanning the screen. The article detailed how traditional markets helped sustain small businesses and supported local economies through employment and tourism.
"This is good," she admitted, scrolling through the key points. "We can use this to compare with modern retail growth."
Anna nodded, jotting down notes. "I'll work on integrating this into our section. But we still need a solid argument for how these markets can compete with larger retail chains."
Jack leaned forward, tapping a specific paragraph. "Some markets have adapted by offering specialized goods or creating community events to attract buyers. We could highlight those examples."
Diane considered it, then grabbed her pen. "We should break it down like this—Anna, you'll handle the introduction and historical background. Jack, you can cover the economic impact and case studies. I'll focus on how these markets can remain competitive in the modern age."
Jack smirked. "So you're giving yourself the hardest part?"
Diane shot him a look. "I trust myself to get it done."
Anna stifled a laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, let's meet up again in two days. We should have our sections ready by then."
Jack stretched, standing up. "Sounds good to me."
Diane stood as well, gathering her things. "Let's not leave this for the last minute."
As they stepped out of the study hall, the sky outside had already begun to darken. Another day was done, but the weight of their upcoming presentation still lingered.
As they stepped out of the school building, a cool evening breeze greeted them. The sky was painted in shades of dusky orange, the last remnants of sunlight casting long shadows across the pavement.
Anna stretched her arms. "Finally done for the day. I swear, if I have to read one more economic article, my brain might just melt."
Diane smirked. "You'll survive. We still have work to do."
Jack slid his hands into his pockets, glancing between them. "Where are you two headed?"
Anna adjusted her bag. "I'm meeting my cousin near the bookstore. I'll catch up with you guys later." She gave them a small wave before hurrying off, leaving Diane alone with Jack.
Diane shifted her bag higher on her shoulder and started walking. Jack followed "I can get home myself."
Jack arched a brow. "I know. But it's on my way, so we might as well go together."
She sighed, not slowing her pace. "Jack, you don't have to. I've been getting home just fine before you suddenly decided to play escort."
He chuckled, effortlessly keeping up with her strides. "And yet, here I am."
Diane shot him a look, lips pressing into a thin line. Jack didn't waver, his expression easygoing yet firm.
"It's just a walk," he added, a teasing lilt to his voice. "Unless you're scared you'll owe me for this."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."
He grinned. "Then let's go."
Resigned, Diane let out a small sigh but didn't argue further. The two of them walked side by side through the quiet streets, the evening air crisp around them.
As Diane and Jack approached her house, the porch light flickered on, casting a warm glow over the front yard. The street was quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the cool evening breeze.
Dalian had just stepped outside, about to call Lydia when her eyes landed on the two figures approaching.
Jack was speaking, hands casually tucked into his pockets, while Diane walked beside him, her expression unreadable. They stopped near the gate, Jack saying something that made Diane tilt her head slightly, lips parting as if in thought.
Dalian's stomach twisted—not in jealousy, but in something else. Something strange and unexplainable.
She wasn't sure why, but seeing them together like that, walking home side by side, left her feeling… off.
She shook the feeling away, scolding herself for overthinking. It wasn't as if Diane had never walked home with someone before. And Jack—Jack was just being Jack.
Still, she couldn't help the way her fingers curled slightly against her sleeve, as if gripping onto something unseen.
Dalian lingered by the doorway, pretending to adjust the sleeves of her sweater as she watched Diane and Jack exchange a few final words.
Jack's stance was relaxed, his hands still tucked in his pockets, but there was something deliberate about the way he spoke—as if he was trying to make a point. Diane, on the other hand, let out a small sigh before nodding.
Then, with a short wave, Jack turned on his heel and walked off, disappearing down the quiet street.
Diane stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
Dalian watched as Diane stepped inside, closing the door with a soft click. Their eyes met for half a second, but Diane didn't say anything. She simply set her bag down and headed toward her room, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Dalian turned away, moving toward the kitchen.
She wasn't jealous. That wasn't it.
But still… the feeling lingered, like a thought half-formed, just out of reach.
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the bustling marketplace. Stalls lined the narrow paths, overflowing with fresh produce, colorful spices, and handcrafted goods. Vendors called out their best deals, the air thick with the scent of ripe fruits and sizzling street food.
Dalian shifted the basket in her arms and pulled out her phone. She pressed Lydia's contact and held it to her ear.
"Hey," she said as soon as Lydia picked up. "I'm heading to the market. Wanna come?"
Lydia didn't even hesitate. "Yes! I would love to. Where are you?"
"Just got here," Dalian replied, weaving through the crowd. "I'll wait near the fruit stand."
"Give me five minutes!" Lydia's excitement was obvious, even over the phone.
Dalian pocketed her phone and exhaled, glancing around. The marketplace was alive with chatter, the sounds of bargaining and laughter mingling in the air. She tapped her fingers against the handle of her basket, waiting.
Moments later, Lydia appeared, slightly out of breath but grinning. "You didn't start shopping without me, did you?"
Dalian smirked. "I wouldn't dare."
Lydia looped her arm through Dalian's. "Alright then. Let's shop."
And just like that, the weight of the day eased a little.
The marketplace buzzed with life as Dalian and Lydia strolled past the rows of vendors, their arms still loosely linked. The scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the tangy aroma of citrus, making the air feel warm and rich with flavor.
Dalian glanced down at the list Aunt Beatrice had given her. "Alright, first on the list—tomatoes and onions."
Lydia wrinkled her nose playfully. "Boring. Let's get to the good stuff—maybe some sweets?"
Dalian rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're such a child."
"And you love me for it," Lydia teased, nudging her shoulder.
They reached a stall where bright red tomatoes were stacked in neat piles next to baskets of onions. Dalian picked up a tomato, pressing it gently.
The vendor, an older woman with kind eyes, smiled at them. "Freshly picked this morning, dear. The best you'll find."
Dalian nodded approvingly and started selecting the best ones while Lydia busied herself with the onions.
As they filled the basket, Lydia suddenly paused, her eyes lighting up. "Oh! Look over there."
Dalian followed her gaze and saw a vendor selling candied nuts and small pastries coated in honey. Lydia grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her over before she could protest.
"You seriously have the attention span of a squirrel," Dalian muttered.
Lydia ignored her, already picking up a small bag of sugar-coated almonds. "Come on, Dalian. Live a little."
Dalian sighed but handed over a few coins to the vendor. "Fine. But if I get in trouble for spending too much, I'm blaming you."
Lydia beamed. "Totally worth it."
They continued weaving through the market, collecting the rest of the items on the list—carrots, spices, and a bag of rice—while Lydia found every excuse to buy snacks along the way.
As they reached the last stall, Lydia turned to Dalian with a grin. "You know… this was fun. You should invite me every time you run errands."
Dalian smirked, adjusting the weight of the basket in her arms. "You just want an excuse to buy sweets."
Lydia gasped dramatically. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"
Dalian chuckled, shaking her head. "Come on, let's head back before Aunt Beatrice starts wondering where I disappeared to."
And with that, they made their way out of the bustling marketplace, the setting sun casting long shadows behind them.
As they walked back home, the weight of their shopping bags didn't seem to bother them as much as the warmth of their conversation. The late afternoon breeze carried the scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby vendor, making Lydia pause for a second.
"You are not stopping again," Dalian warned, narrowing her eyes playfully.
Lydia pouted dramatically. "But Dalian, what if this is my last chance to experience the joy of chestnuts before winter ends?"
Dalian scoffed. "You literally had some last week."
"Still, you never know." Lydia sighed but gave up on her plan, instead shifting the bag in her hands. "So… are you going to tell me what's really on your mind?"
Dalian hesitated. "What do you mean?"
Lydia arched a brow. "You were a little quiet back there. And I know you, Dalian. Something's up."
Dalian pressed her lips together, her steps slowing for a moment. She wasn't sure how to explain it—she wasn't upset, not really. But seeing Jack walk Diane home had left a strange feeling inside her, something unspoken that she couldn't quite put into words.
Lydia studied her carefully before a teasing smile crept onto her lips. "Oh, I get it. You saw Jack with Diane, didn't you?"
Dalian stiffened but quickly scoffed. "That has nothing to do with it."
Lydia hummed in amusement. "Suuure. And I don't love sweets."
Dalian rolled her eyes, shifting her focus to the road ahead. "I just… It's not that I was jealous or anything. It was just—"
"Unexpected?" Lydia offered.
Dalian nodded slowly. "Yeah. That."
Lydia grinned. "Well, if it helps, I don't think there's anything romantic going on there. Jack's just… Jack. He's polite, a little awkward, but not exactly the type to be making secret moves on Diane."
Dalian sighed, knowing Lydia was probably right. "I know. It's just—" She hesitated before shaking her head. "Never mind. Let's just get home."
Lydia let it go but nudged her playfully. "Alright, alright. But just so you know, I still think you should do something about your feelings instead of bottling them up."
Dalian gave her a look. "You're annoying."
Lydia beamed. "And yet, you keep hanging out with me."
They laughed, their pace quickening as the sky darkened. By the time they reached the house, the comforting glow of the lights inside welcomed them home. Aunt Beatrice was seated in the living room, bouncing the baby gently on her lap, while the soft murmur of the television filled the space.
"You girls took your time," Aunt Beatrice noted, glancing at the bags. "I was beginning to think you got lost."
Lydia grinned. "Oh, we had an adventure. Dalian fought an old lady for the last bag of rice."
Dalian gasped. "I did not!"
Aunt Beatrice chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, as long as you got everything, that's all that matters. Go wash up, and we'll start preparing dinner."
Dalian nodded, grateful for the shift in focus. But as she and Lydia headed toward the kitchen, she couldn't shake the lingering thoughts in the back of her mind.
Maybe Lydia was right. Maybe bottling things up wasn't the answer.
But what was she supposed to do?