Once Was Ours

The tension had started earlier in the day — something stupid in the hallway. A misheard comment. A quick look that landed wrong. Bell wasn't even sure how it escalated, but it did. And now here they were.

"I said it wasn't a big deal," Alessandro snapped under his breath as they stood by the lockers between classes.

"You say that every time, Ale," Bell replied, arms crossed tightly. "But you never actually listen to why I'm upset."

"Because you get upset over everything."

He regretted it the moment it left his mouth — the way her face froze, the way her eyes shifted down and away, like he'd pulled something out of her chest and dropped it.

"You know what?" she said quietly, backing up. "Fine. Go sit with your friends today."

"Bell—"

"It's not a big deal, right?"

She walked off before he could answer.

INT. CAFETERIA— LUNCHTIME

Bell sat with her friends for the first time in months. It wasn't bad — they laughed, talked about prom dresses and college tours — but everything felt off, like the room was tilted just slightly.

She saw Alessandro across the cafeteria with his usual crew. He smiled but he wasn't laughing either.

And neither of them were willing to move.

INT. AFTER SCHOOL

The day had only gotten heavier. Class dragged. Her shoulders ached. And when the final bell rang, Alessandro didn't show up at her locker. No walk home. No text.

She had seen him at his locker down the hall. He was with his friends. Luciano and Marco. They were probably heading off somewhere she guessed.

So she walked. Alone.

The Marchetti and Casanova homes sat just across the private drive from one another, a perfect line of trimmed hedges and iron gates between them. It wasn't far — ten minutes, tops — but it felt longer today.

The air was warm in that almost-spring way, with wind that stirred her hair and made her eyes water a little. Her heels clicked softly on the sidewalk. The silence was… welcome. Sad, but peaceful.

They'd had fights before, little arguments, it was normal right? Though it still made her feel miserable knowing that right now she couldn't just call him and know he'd answer and talk to him for hours.

She passed the garden. The oak tree. Didn't stop.

Her throat felt tight, but she didn't cry. Not yet.

Instead, she let herself into the house quietly and dropped her bag by the door. The silence wrapped around her like a blanket.

Maybe this was good.

Maybe she needed the quiet too.

...….

INT. MARCHETTI & CASANOVA ESTATE

The sky was streaked in orange and lavender, the sun already slipping behind the city skyline. Alessandro sat in the backseat of his friend's car, head leaned against the window as they turned off the main road and into their gated neighborhood.

They'd hit Times Square after school — nothing serious, just wandering, spending money, talking trash in the Nike store, and getting overpriced boba in Midtown.

They'd walked by the store when Luciano said. "Oh, that's that store with the tea, that, that, oh what's it called?"

Alessandro had laughed. "The shit with the little pearls in it right? Bell loves that stuff."

He quieted momentarily after realizing he mentioned her. It was supposed to be a distraction.

The guys hadn't noticed. Marco just stepped in, placing his hands on both their shoulders as they walked down thestreet. "Sì you sciocchi , it's called Boba tea. It's actually really good."

Alessandro laughed but it wasn't heartfelt. The whole time, something in his chest had been buzzing.

Now, as the car rolled to a stop outside the gate of the Marchetti estate, his eyes flicked across the road — toward the house directly across from his.

Casanova property. White stone. Perfect landscaping. Always looked like something out of a magazine.

But it wasn't the house that caught him.

It was the oak tree.

And Bell.

She sat beneath it on a thick cream-colored blanket, legs tucked under her, book open in front of her knees, headphones in. Her hair was pulled back loosely, and the bracelet he'd given her flashed in the last of the sun.

She wasn't crying.

She wasn't even frowning.

She looked… still. Thoughtful. Somewhere else entirely.

And it hit him, suddenly, how long she'd been out there — how she'd come straight home and gone to the place they always went when the world felt too heavy.

"Yo, you good?" Marco asked from the driver's seat.

Alessandro didn't answer. He was already opening the door.

…..

He crossed the street slowly, quietly, not wanting to startle her. The sound of his shoes on the stone path was soft, muted by the wind.

Bell didn't look up at first— whatever she was listening to had her locked in. She flipped a page , eyes scanning the words, hand tucked under her chin.

He stopped a few feet away, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"You always come here when you miss me?" He joked lightly.

Bell looked up. Even though she was upset, she still gave a small smile.

"Something like that."

Alessandro settled down on the blanket next to her.

"I'm sorry, about today and not listening to you, and going off without you."

Bell watched him for a moment. "Thank you." She said quietly. "I'm sorry too, I know sometimes I can get a little overwhelming."

Alessandro laughed softly. "Not overwhelming… you're just passionate, I think sometimes we get things lost in translation.."

Bell nodded.

They both sat silently and then Bell finally spoke.

"So can we hug now."

Alessandro chuckled. "Of course we can Bella."

She got up, settling back down in between his legs. She leaned back against him. Content in his arms.

"I don't like fighting with you." She whispered.

"I don't either Bellissima. Let's do our best not too."

The air had shifted. Cooler now, tinged with that late-spring chill that made your skin prickle just enough to notice.

The sun was sinking low, turning everything gold — their skin, the tree branches above, the pages of Bell's book that lay forgotten in her lap.

A few birds chirped somewhere far off. A breeze moved through the leaves above.

"We're gonna be okay, right?" she whispered eventually.

"Yeah," he said. No hesitation. "We are."

And for now, that was enough.

They sat like that until the sun was almost gone and the first star blinked awake above them.

Still side by side.

Still under that same old oak tree.

Still choosing each other — even when it wasn't perfect.

Especially then.