her thoughts in writing 🦋

The morning briefing was never a normal one, it always had to have a twist or Peralta had to somehow make it about himself.

"I am being so deadass right now - if there is anyone in this precinct who can be a stunt double for Jackie Chan, it's so gonna be me."

"Peralta I'll save you from the obvious embarrassment, Jackie Chan did all his stunts by himself. And second of all, Rosa is way more experienced than you. I once saw her eating a sandwhich upside down like a bat in the evidence room."

Amy crossed her arms, and stared him down. This was a usual banter between both of them. Whenever Jake tried to make himself look good, Amy always had to water it down with her sarcasm and snarky comments. It honestly kept him humble.

"Detective Santiago, can you please shut the fuck up for one damn minute?"

"Detective Peralta, can you not have a ego which is the size of Terrance for one damn minute?"

"Detective Santiago-

"ENOUGH" Holt walked in just in time, and behind him was Chief Marshal Boom, looking stubby and short as always.

"There is something important I must say so please stop the squabling, Detective Santiago and Detective Per-."

"Why the hell is he here?"

Peralta's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, and a little bit of disgust. The tension and hostility between detectives and firefighters was a constant, and there is nothing anyone can do or say to remove it.

"If you want me to continue, I need you to be quiet Jake." Now it was Holt's turn to stare him down, and Boom had a shameless smirk which Peralta wanted to punch off his face.

The precinct fell silent as Captain stood in front of the podim, and his hands were clasped neatly behind his back.

"At approximately 0430 hours yesterday, a five-alarm fire broke out in a warehouse located in Brooklyn's Red Hook district. Initial reports suggested an electrical malfunction."

Jake raised a hand.

"So... boring fire stuff."

"No, Detective Peralta. If it were boring, I would not be standing here."

Jake immediately lowered his hand.

Holt clicked a remote. A photograph of the warehouse appeared on the screen.

"FDNY investigators determined that the fire was intentionally set. Multiple ignition points were discovered throughout the building, ruling out accidental causes."

"However," Holt continued, "the arson itself is not the primary concern."

Another slide appeared, inside the warehouse were several shipping containers.

"Three of these containers were found empty. According to shipping manifests, they should have contained approximately four million dollars' worth of stolen electronics connected to an ongoing interstate theft operation."

Amy's eyes widened.

"So the fire was used to destroy evidence."

"Correct, Detective Santiago."

Terry leaned forward.

"And the stolen goods?"

"Missing. The perpetrators stole the merchandise, set the fire to eliminate evidence, and escaped before emergency services arrived."

Rosa crossed her arms."So why are we working with firefighters?"

Holt switched slides again. This time it showed several photographs taken by FDNY personnel.

"Because one firefighter noticed something unusual."

The room looked closer. A muddy boot print.

"While conducting a structural safety assessment, Firefighter Lieutenant Morales discovered this print in an area untouched by suppression crews. The tread pattern matches a boot commonly issued to employees at the shipping company that leased the warehouse."

Jake sat up."Oh. That's actually really good."

"It is," Holt agreed. "Which is why we will be treating our FDNY counterparts with professionalism and respect."

At that exact moment, the firefighters assigned to the case walked into the briefing room.

Peralta's happy mood vanished, and his cheeks flushed. His breathing got heavy, and he held his stomach because he genuinely felt butterflies flying around.

"No way." Boyle hunched forward, holding Peralta's shoulder. He was keenly observing what unfolded in front of him.

"Hey.. isn't that-" Rosa whispered in Santiago's ear.

"Yup." She replied in a whisper. "Y/n..."

The woman with tan skin, doe eyes and an impish smile looked into Peralta's eyes, aware about the effect she had on him.

She was back, the one who made his heart and head go crazy like sirens.

"Nice to see you again, Detective Peralta."

Jake froze and it wasn't because she was pretty or because Boyle was already making weird noises beside him.

It was because he suddenly felt himself being pulled back to a memory, where he was back on that football field. The day he met her, covered in mud and flat on his back.

Boom stepped forward with a folder tucked under his arm. "The warehouse covers nearly forty thousand square feet. FDNY has already completed the structural assessment, but there are still several areas that require joint investigation."

A blueprint of the warehouse appeared on the screen,r ed circles covered different sections of the building.

"Multiple teams will be assigned."

Amy immediately sat up straighter and opened a notebook. Holt pressed a button on the remote.

"Detective Santiago."

Amy practically levitated from her chair.

"Yes, Captain."

"You will work with Fire Marshal Davidson. I want a complete audit of shipping manifests, employee records, delivery schedules, and financial transactions connected to the warehouse."

Amy nodded enthusiastically.

"Already making a spreadsheet."

"You haven't received the files yet."

"I'll make a preliminary spreadsheet."

"Of course you will."

Next slide.

"Sergeant Jeffords."

Terry looked up.

"You and Captain Rivera from FDNY will coordinate and gather the CCTV footage around the area. Several firefighters were on scene before the building collapsed. We need the exact timelines."

"Got it." Terrance politely smiled at Rivera, already knowing they will make a great duo. They looked like twins from different mothers.

"Detective Diaz."

Rosa didn't even look up.

"Yeah."

"You will accompany Lieutenant Russo to investigate a potential black-market distribution network connected to the stolen electronics."

Rosa smirked.

"Cool."

Lieutenant Russo grinned, thinking it was going to be treat to work with a beautiful girl like her. She looked pretty gentle to him (if only he knew).

"Detective Boyle, you will assist in tracing the stolen merchandise through local distributors."

Boyle looked disappointed.

"No explosions?"

"No."

"No undercover operation?"

"No."

"No dangerous criminal conspiracy?"

"Charles."

"Right. Merchandise."

Then Holt's eyes moved toward Jake.

The entire bullpen somehow knew what was coming. Amy looked interested, and Rosa looked entertained. Whereas, Boyle looked like he was watching the season finale of his favorite show.

"And last but not the least - Peralta," Holt took a pause before continuing his sentence, "you shall be working the case with Y/n L/n. Both of you are responsible to gather witness statements, and gather any forensic evidence which was left behind the scene or anywhere near the zone. Have I made myself clear?"

Jake plunged himself out of dreamland. Partnering with her would be a nightmare, obviously in a pleasant way. He knows he won't be able to focus on a case as badass as this, this is not what he signed up for. Jake Peralta doesn't do distractions.

"WAIT-"

"Yes, Jake?" Holt was expecting his reply. He has known him long enough to realise that he will never let his superior officer have the last word, especially during a morning briefing. That way, Jake is yet to grow up. He is still a 33 year old child.

"I can do the witness statements and gather the forensic evidence by myself. I don't need another person," Jake's eyes met Y/n for a brief second before he continued. "It won't be hard, I do this all the time when I solve cases with Boyle."

"Yeah because you always think you are in charge." Amy interjected. Jake turned back and signalled her to shut her mouth. This was not really a good time to humble him.

"But it's true! We can ask Boyle right now."

Everyone turned towards Boyle, waiting for his comments. Jake was practically pleading him with his eyes to take his side, while Amy's bore into his soul.

"I-I really don't wanna say anything." Boyle nervously spoke as he fiddled with his polka dotted tie.

"Everyone remain silent." Holt's voice reverberated in the room. "All of you except Y/n and Jake, please leave the room and execute the tasks which have been assigned to you."

Everyone immediately got up. Boyle looked like he wanted to stay more, as if he was going to miss a plot twist of a true crime documentry. Jake noticed.

"Charles."

"I'm leaving."

"You haven't moved."

"I said I'm leaving."

"WELL LEAVE FASTER, CHARLES"

Boyle sighed dramatically and shuffled toward the exit.

Amy patted Jake's shoulder on the way out.

"Good luck." She had that classic smug face, enjoying every second of this.

"I don't need luck."

"You absolutely do."

Rosa walked past next, glancing at Jake. Then at Y/n. Then back at Jake. Then, a slow grin spread across her face.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun."

The door closed before Jake could tell her to shut up. Within seconds, the bullpen noise faded away.

Just Holt.

Boom.

Jake.

And Y/n

Jake suddenly became very interested in a random stain on the conference table.

Holt folded his hands behind his back.

"Detective Peralta, would you care to explain why you believe you are incapable of working alongside Firefighter L/n?"

"I never said incapable."

"You implied it."

"I implied that I am extremely capable by myself."

Boom snorted.

Jake immediately pointed at him.

"See? That's exactly the kind of firefighter attitude I'm talking about."

"You mean competence?"

"I mean smugness."

"Same thing."

"Not even close."

"Close enough."

"Captain, permission to arrest him?"

"Denied."

Jake sighed. Why is literally nothing going his way? His mind started drifting to how Y/n would be feeling right now. Is she feeling bad? Hurt? He bets she has not come across someone who didn't want to work with her. He had his reasons, reasons which he can't quite divulge in until he figures them out by himself.

He turned his head to see her expression. She looked different in what she was wearing now, nothing like the oversized jersey she wore last time at the match.

A grey tshirt was hugging her body, enhancing the curve of her waist. It was a round neck, which was pretty deep because Peralta could make out of the highlight of her collar bones which shone in the white light. And her face looked gorgeous as ever, definitely a face which he spent nights thinking about.

Y/n cleared her throat, and Peralta's trance broke. Their eyes met again, and she gave him a smile. Not a cute one, but a 'I know you are checking me out' smile.

Fuck.

"The reason Detective Peralta is being assigned a partner is because the warehouse investigation requires expertise from both departments."

"I would say I have enough expertise."

"So does Firefighter L/n."

"I know crime things."

"And she knows fire things."

Jake opened his mouth. Then closed it. Because, whether he liked it out not, Holt was making sense. A fact he deeply resented.

Boom crossed his arms."Besides, she was the one who requested Peralta."

Jake blinked, tilting his head in confusion. His hands held his waist. "What?"

The room went quiet and Y/n looked completely unbothered.

Boom nodded.

"Specifically requested him."

Jake's brain immediately stopped functioning.

"What."

"Those were my exact thoughts too," Holt added. Jake stared at Y/n, definitely not checking her out this time. Now the three men were looking at her, curious about the answer.

"You have a good reputation, Detective Peralta. I have seen you on the news, and the papers. I specifically requested you because I don't think I know anyone else in this precinct who can think the way you do."

That actually made the room go quiet. The kind where nobody expected that answer. Even Boom looked surprised. Y/n wasn't smiling anymore. There was no teasing hidden in her voice, no clever jab waiting at the end of the sentence. She was completely sincere.

Jake blinked.

Once. Twice. God knows how many times. His brain was still trying to process the fact that she had apparently been paying attention to his career.

"What I'm trying to say is..." she continued, folding her arms casually, "you're good at what you do. And it would be fruitful if we worked this case together. It guarantees the highest chance of success."

For the first time in his life, Jake Peralta had absolutely no comeback. No joke. No sarcastic remark. Nothing.

Because compliments from Amy were normal. Compliments from Holt happened once every leap year. But hearing that from her? His brain had completely blue-screened.

"You... read about my cases?"

Y/n nodded.

"Some of them."

"Like... voluntarily?"

Another nod.

Jake looked genuinely confused.

"Why would you do that?"

That earned the smallest smile from her.

"Because I was curious."

Now Jake's heart was doing gymnastics.

Boyle would have exploded if he were still in the room. Probably into confetti. Holt pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Detective Peralta."

"Yes, Captain?" His face was flushed.

"Are you capable of participating in this investigation now?"

Jake straightened immediately.

"Absolutely."

"Good."

"Wait, hold on. Which cases did you read about?" Holt closed his eyes. Boom wanted this to end, it's like two teenage trying to kiss but failing every goddamn time.

Y/n looked amused.

"The Pontiac Bandit case."

Jake's face lit up.

"Oh, that's a good one."

"The diamond robbery."

"Also a good one."

"The mafia counterfeit ring."

Jake pointed at her.

"That's a great one."

"You got trapped inside a freezer for six hours."

His smile disappeared.

"...that's not the point."

"It was a significant part of the article."

"The article was biased."

"It included photographs."

"It was extremely biased."

For a moment Y/n laughed again.

And Jake couldn't help smiling back. Not because she'd complimented him. Okay, maybe a little because she'd complimented him. But mostly because she was looking at him like she genuinely respected him. Not as the idiot from the football field. Not as the detective who made too many jokes.

But as a detective. Someone worth choosing. And somehow that realization made him even more nervous than before.

"Excellent," Holt said flatly. "Now that Detective Peralta has received the validation he desperately craves, both of you may leave and begin your investigation."

Jake pointed at him.

"I don't desperately crave validation."

"Leave."

"Okay."

"Now."

"Leaving."

Jake walked towards the door.

Then stopped.

Then looked back at Y/n.

"Just for the record..."

"Yes?" She smiled again, it was a adorable one this time and Peralta's heart was beating at an abnormal rate.

"I would request me too. There is nothing I can't do. Smart choice, honestly."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I don't think it would be a smart choice if someone picked you for football."

"Yeah?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Good thing you weren't looking for a football player then."

His eyes met hers.

"You were looking for me."

Before Y/n could answer, he was already halfway out the door. He looked at her a final time before leaving.

The morning briefing was never a normal one, it always had to have a twist or Peralta had to somehow make it about himself.

"I am being so deadass right now - if there is anyone in this precinct who can be a stunt double for Jackie Chan, it's so gonna be me."

"Peralta I'll save you from the obvious embarrassment, Jackie Chan did all his stunts by himself. And second of all, Rosa is way more experienced than you. I once saw her eating a sandwhich upside down in the evidence room."

Amy crossed her arms, and stared him down. This was a usual banter between both of them. Whenever Jake tried to make himself look good, Amy always had to water it down with her sarcasm and snarky comments. It honestly kept him humble.

"Detective Santiago, can you please shut the fuck up for one damn minute?"

"Detective Peralta, can you not have a ego which is the size of Terrance for one damn minute?"

"Detective Santiago-

"ENOUGH" Holt walked in just in time, and behind him was Chief Marshal Boom, looking stubby and short as always.

"There is something important I must say so please stop the squabling Detective Santiago and Detective Per-."

"Why the hell is he here?"

Peralta's eyebrows crinkled in confusion, and a little bit of disgust. The tension and hostility between detectives and firefighters was a constant, and there is nothing anyone can do or say to remove it.

"If you want me to continue, I need you to be quiet Jake." Now it was Holt's turn to stare him down, and Boom had a shameless smirk which Peralta wanted to punch off his face.

The precinct fell silent as Captain stood in front of the podim, and his hands were clasped neatly behind his back.

"At approximately 0430 hours yesterday, a five-alarm fire broke out in a warehouse located in Brooklyn's Red Hook district. Initial reports suggested an electrical malfunction."

Jake raised a hand.

"So... boring fire stuff."

"No, Detective Peralta. If it were boring, I would not be standing here."

Jake immediately lowered his hand. Holt clicked a remote. A photograph of the warehouse appeared on the screen.

"FDNY investigators determined that the fire was intentionally set. Multiple ignition points were discovered throughout the building, ruling out accidental causes."

"However," Holt continued, "the arson itself is not the primary concern."

Another slide appeared, inside the warehouse were several shipping containers.

"Three of these containers were found empty. According to shipping manifests, they should have contained approximately four million dollars' worth of stolen electronics connected to an ongoing interstate theft operation."

Amy's eyes widened.

"So the fire was used to destroy evidence."

"Correct, Detective Santiago."

Terry leaned forward.

"And the stolen goods?"

"Missing. The perpetrators stole the merchandise, set the fire to eliminate evidence, and escaped before emergency services arrived."

Rosa crossed her arms.

"So why are we working with firefighters?"

Holt switched slides again. This time it showed several photographs taken by FDNY personnel.

"Because one firefighter noticed something unusual."

The room looked closer.

A muddy boot print.

"While conducting a structural safety assessment, Firefighter Lieutenant Morales discovered this print in an area untouched by suppression crews. The tread pattern matches a boot commonly issued to employees at the shipping company that leased the warehouse."

Jake sat up."Oh. That's actually really good."

"It is," Holt agreed. "Which is why we will be treating our FDNY counterparts with professionalism and respect."

At that exact moment, the firefighters assigned to the case walked into the briefing room.

Peralta's happy mood vanished, and his cheeks flushed. He took a deep breath, not knowing what to feel but it was definitely a feeling of limerence.

"No way." Boyle hunched forward, holding Peralta's shoulder. He was keenly observing what unfolded in front of him.

"Hey.. isn't that-" Rosa whispered in Santiago's ear.

"Yup." She replied in a whisper. "Y/n..."

The woman with tan skin, doe eyes and an impish smile looked into Peralta's eyes, aware about the effect she had on him.

She was back, the one who made his heart and head go crazy like sirens.

"Nice to see you again, Detective Peralta.'

---------------------------------------------------

Amy Santiago was preparing her presentation for the ongoing pilot program which has been successfully implemented and functioning for the past fifteen years, and she is on the path of becoming the youngest captain of the NYPD. Her life trajectory was decided by her from a young age, and winning was as easy as breathing for her.

But none of it came easy if it weren't for her wonderful husband, Jake Peralta who left the nine-nine years ago to support her dreams and be there for Mac.

First it was just Mac, but one night Amy surprised Jake with a pregnancy test and words choked in his throat.

Another child at the age of 43? Wasn't it just gonna be Mac for the next 18 years of his life? But all of his doubts vanished when he heard the heartbeat of his beautiful baby girl.

Yes.

Jacob Peralta was having a daughter and he couldn't think straight. He immediately knew her name was going to be Holly, named after Holly Gennaro McClane. It was meant to be.

Now, the Peraltas are preparing themselves for the day. Mac is 13, and Holly is 10 so you must have guessed that teenage hormones are saturating the atmosphere.

The mood swings and sudden mental breakdowns are not good for Amy's sanity, so these matters are mostly handled by Jake and he is damn good at them. He was meant to be a dad, and he is always there.

If the 30 year old Jake could see himself right now, he would be shocked to the core since he never had a pleasant experience with his father, so he never thought of himself as a dad himself.

But as they say, people change and he changed amazingly.

"Mac, I need you to calm down and don't talk to your sister like that." Jake warned him while flipping the pancakes for breakfast.

"Dad she is so infuriating. Even at school she is clinging to me and my friends, she just doesn't budge. NO ONE TOLD HER TO USE MY BATHROOM TODAY MORNING."

"Daddy it's because his bathroom is bigger and I need more space to shower. Don't be mad please." Holly pouted as she tried to reason with her father who looked a bit annoyed.

Jake looked at his children, and the resemblance is insane. They both have his baby browns, soft brownish-blackish hair, and their ability to get what they want by showing their innocent faces.

Mac had a maverick look, kinda similar to an attitude Jake had years ago. They truly were their father's children, it's like Amy's genes didn't even try.

"Guys I am not mad but don't make the morning more stressful than it already is. Mom is tired so let's make it easier for her, okay sweetie?" He kisses her on her forehead.

"OKAY PERALTAS - how do I look?" Amy runs down in her uniform, looking gorgeous as ever. She did a mini twirl and Holly giggled enthusiasticly.

"YOU LOOK SO PRETTY MOMMY"

"You look badass, mom." Mac observe as he stuffed a piece of pancake in his mouth.

"You look so fine, babe. You're gonna kill it today." Jake kissed her cheek and motioned her to eat her breakfast.

"Mac did you finish your algebra homework?" Amy settled next to him after giving her usual morning kiss to her daughter.

"Oh my god, Mom. For the fifteenth time, YES. YES I DID."

"Good, because we're gonna be starting calculus this summer vacation and I need you to be up-top."

Even if Mac had Jake's looks, Amy made it her life's mission to make sure her children had her brain.

Mac excelled all his subjects, he was an academic weapon and unstoppable. He solved higher grade math as if he was born to do this. He truly lived up to the Santiago name.

"What's calculus?" Holly interjected.

Jake looked at his daughter, whose face was now somehow wearing more syrup than the pancake ever had.

“It is,” Amy said carefully, reaching over with a napkin, “a branch of mathematics.”

Holly’s eyes widened in immediate betrayal. “That sounds disgusting.”

Mac snorted into his orange juice.

Jake, still at the stove, pointed his spatula at her. “Correct response. That’s exactly how I felt when I first heard the word too.”

Amy shot him a look. “Don’t corrupt her.”

“Too late,” Jake said. “She’s a Peralta.”

“I’m also a Santiago,” Holly argued proudly.

Amy smiled and booped her nose. “Yes, you are.”

Mac leaned back in his chair, smug in the way only a thirteen-year-old boy who was annoyingly good at math could be. “Calculus is easy if you understand limits.”

Jake turned around so fast he almost dropped a pancake. “Okay, nobody likes a show-off before 8 a.m.”

“I’m not showing off,” Mac said. “I’m just smarter than you.”

“Wow.” Jake placed a hand over his heart. “Bold thing to say to the man who knows where all your screen chargers are.”

That got Mac to pause.

Holly gasped. “Daddy, that’s evil.”

“Thank you,” Jake said with pride.

Amy was trying not to laugh into her coffee. “Mac, don’t antagonize your father before school.”

“I didn’t antagonize him,” Mac muttered. “He’s just sensitive in his old age.”

Jake slowly turned to stare at him. “Amy. Did you hear that? Our son called me old.”

“You are old,” Holly offered helpfully.

Jake blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You make noises when you sit down.”

Mac burst out laughing so hard he nearly choked on pancake.

Amy finally gave up and laughed too, covering her mouth with one hand.

Jake looked around the kitchen in deep offense. “This family has become unsafe for me.”

“It’s because you’re dramatic,” Amy said.

“I am expressive.”

“You’re dramatic,” all three of them said together.

Jake pointed around the room. “Unbelievable. I sacrificed my prime detective years for this household.”

“And thank God you did,” Amy said warmly, softer now, looking at him with that fondness that still, after all these years, could make him melt right in the middle of a joke.

The edge in his face disappeared immediately.

Because yeah, he did. And he’d do it again in every universe.

He brought the last stack of pancakes over and set them down in the middle of the table. Holly reached for one, Mac stole two, and Amy instantly slapped his wrist.

“One,” she said.

“Mom—”

“One.”

Mac dropped one back with the suffering of a Victorian child.

Jake sat down beside Amy and stole a quick kiss from her temple. “Nervous?”

Amy exhaled, glancing toward the folder on the counter that held her presentation notes. “A little.”

Jake’s face softened. “You’re gonna crush it.”

“I know,” she said automatically, then smiled a little. “But I still get nervous.”

“That’s because you care,” he said.

Amy looked at him for a moment, her whole expression gentling. “You always know what to say.”

Jake grinned. “That’s why you married me. Definitely not for my incredible upper body strength.”

“Definitely not,” Amy said.

Holly gagged dramatically. “Oh my God.”

Mac pointed his fork at them. “Can you not be weird at breakfast?”

Jake gasped. “We gave you life.”

“And trauma,” Mac said.

Amy narrowed her eyes. “Finish your breakfast.”

The kitchen fell into the usual kind of chaos after that.

Holly was humming to herself while arranging blueberries into a smiley face on her plate. Mac was looking around the counter for his missing jacket with the despair of a man going to war. Amy was scanning through her slides one last time between bites. Jake was doing what Jake did best—holding the entire thing together with jokes, caffeine, and a truly concerning amount of confidence.

Then Mac froze.

“Wait.”

Jake barely looked up. “What now?”

“My jacket.” Mac looked at Holly with immediate suspicion. “Did you take my jacket?”

Holly looked personally insulted. “Why would I want your ugly jacket?”

“Because you take all my stuff!”

“I do not!”

“You literally took my headphones last week!”

“Because mine were broken!”

“And you never asked!”

Jake rubbed a hand down his face. “Okay, okay, let’s de-escalate before someone ends up on a true crime documentary.”

Amy stood, already halfway in captain mode. “Holly, did you take the jacket?”

Holly crossed her arms. “No.”

Amy turned to Mac. “Then lower your voice.”

Mac threw his hands up. “Then where is it?”

Jake’s eyes moved lazily to the back of Mac’s chair.

The black jacket was hanging right there.

Jake took a long sip of coffee.

Amy saw it too and closed her eyes.

Holly followed their gaze and immediately started cackling.

Mac turned, saw it, and went still.

The room was silent for one beautiful second.

Then Jake said, very gently, “Detective work may not be for you, buddy.”

Holly actually slid off her chair laughing.

Mac grabbed the jacket so fast his ears turned red. “Okay, shut up.”

“No, no,” Jake said, delighted now. “You came in here screaming like the house was under siege and the jacket was literally behind you the whole time. That’s incredible. That is cinema.”

Amy, trying and failing to keep a straight face, picked up her coffee. “Maybe hold off on calculus if locating visible objects is still a challenge.”

Mac stared at both of them in horror. “Mom.”

Holly pointed at him. “Mac can do limits but not eyesight!”

Jake slapped the table, and gave her a high-five. “That’s it. Best line of the morning. Holly wins breakfast.”

“I always win breakfast,” Holly said smugly.

Mac muttered something under his breath and sulked into his chair again.

Jake nudged his shoulder. “Hey.”

Mac looked up reluctantly.

Jake lowered his voice a little. “Rough morning?”

Mac shrugged, all thirteen-year-old pride and bottled-up feeling. “Just… I have that science presentation first period, and Ethan said if I mess up he’s gonna tell everyone I sound like Kermit when I get nervous.”

Amy’s expression changed instantly.

Holly gasped. “That’s so mean.”

Jake leaned in. “First of all, Kermit is a legend, so that’s not even an insult. Second of all, Ethan sounds like he’s begging to be humbled.”

Amy gave Jake a warning glance.

“What? Verbally. With emotional intelligence.”

Mac let out the tiniest smile.

Amy reached for his hand. “You’re going to do well because you prepared. Not because Ethan gets to decide whether you’re good.”

Jake nodded. “And if he says anything, just remember that you are smarter than him, taller than him—”

“I’m not taller than him.”

“You will be,” Jake said confidently. “And more importantly, you are a Santiago-Peralta. That is an insanely powerful bloodline.”

Holly raised her hand. “What about me?”

Jake pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head. “You are our tiny menace. Also powerful.”

She beamed.

Amy glanced at the time and immediately stood up. “Okay, shoes on. Bags ready. We are leaving in six minutes.”

Everything moved at once.

Chairs scraped. Holly ran upstairs because she had somehow forgotten her water bottle even though it was in her hand two seconds ago. Mac shoved papers into his backpack in a panic. Amy checked for her badge, laptop, charger, and presentation folder three separate times. Jake packed Holly’s lunch, signed something for Mac, found Amy’s other earring on the counter, and shouted up the stairs for Holly to brush her hair.

“IT IS BRUSHED!” she yelled back.

“It is absolutely not brushed!”

Two minutes later Holly came down with one side smooth and the other looking like she’d fought a ceiling fan.

Jake pointed. “Come here.”

“No.”

“Holly.”

She sighed and stomped over. Jake quickly fixed her hair while she squirmed dramatically like he was performing medieval torture.

Amy was by the door, one hand on her bag, watching them all with that same look she got sometimes—half exhaustion, half wonder. Like she still couldn’t believe this loud, ridiculous, beautiful life belonged to her.

Jake caught her looking.

“What?” he asked.

Amy smiled. “Nothing.”

He knew that smile.

He walked over, touched her waist lightly, and kissed her forehead. “You’ve got this, Captain.”

A flicker crossed her face at the word. Not captain yet. But close.

Close enough to make her heart race.

Mac slung his backpack over one shoulder. Holly grabbed Amy’s hand. Jake locked the door behind them, and the four of them stepped into the hallway like their own little storm system.

Holly was talking about a girl in her class who cried because someone said her glitter pens were childish. Mac was pretending not to listen but absolutely listening. Amy was already mentally rehearsing the opening line of her presentation. Jake walked in the middle of all of it, holding Holly’s lunchbox and Mac’s forgotten permission slip and Amy’s coffee, because of course he was.

And just before they reached the car, Amy stopped him.

Jake turned. “What happened? Did we forget a child?”

Amy smiled and took the coffee from his hand. Then she leaned in and kissed him properly this time, slow enough that both children groaned in disgust.

“You really are amazing, you know that?” she said quietly.

Jake blinked. “Wow. In front of the kids too. Bold.”

“I’m serious.”

His usual grin softened into something smaller, realer. “So are you.”

Mac made a vomiting noise.

Holly copied him.

Jake pointed at them. “You two are lucky I love you.”

“We know,” Holly said.

Mac rolled his eyes. “You say it like fifty times a day.”

Jake opened the car door for them. “And I’ll say it fifty more.”

Because he would.

Every morning. Every fight. Every slammed door and unfinished pancake and math question and school meltdown and career milestone and bad day and good day.

Every single one.

“Fire marshal Boom, we meet again.” A smirk was plastered on his beautiful face, looking down at the dwarf which stood in front of him.

“Detective Peralta whose fly is down, and made you look.”

“I didn’t look and I am wearing shorts. There is no fly.”

“That’s not what your mom said.”

“You make no sense.”

“And now I am inside your head.” Now it was Boom’s turn to smirk.

“You may have won last time, but let me tell you. We have a new recruit who joined us two months ago. She is fast, athletic, and she will make us win.”

“Even if you recruit the entire NFL team, NBA, and the cast of Fast and Furious, you all are just a bunch of lifeguards, running around with hoses.”

“We run into burning buildings.”

“And I solve crimes, which is harder because criminals lie and building don’t.”

“Now, you don’t make sense.”

“Shut the hell up, and start the damn game.” Peralta smacked the football on Boom’s chest, and walked towards his team. They were all getting into positions, when he noticed someone at the corner of his eye. She was putting her long hair in a bun, and her eyes were staring into his soul. Peralta has seen many beautiful girls in his whole life, but this one was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Her tan skin glowed under the sunlight, and the detective could not help but inquire about her. He faced the fire fighter standing next to him, and asked “Who is the new girl? Never seen her before.”

“Y/n L/n” He replied. “She is new but damn good. Last week, she carried 3 children on her back from a school fire. There were 5 firefighters on the ground, but she got all the work done in less than 7 minutes. It was a new record for our department so we had to call her here. Her strength may be equivalent to that of Sergeant Jeffords.”

“No way in hell.” Peralta was holding himself back from laughing. She and Terry looked poles apart, and he was sure her strength could not be compared to someone like the Sergeant. Peralta recalled how easily that man could break a window despite closing the door as soft as a whisper.

“Okay, I am sorry but you must have inhaled smoke because you are hallucinating.”

Boom interrupted, “No. He is serious.”

“That woman?”

“That woman.” Boom confirmed.

Jake shook his head dramatically.

“Absolutely not. Terry Jeffords is built like a marble statue sculpted by Greek gods who love yogurt. That is a normal-sized human person.”

Terry couldn’t help but overhear the conversation, “Terry does love yogurt.”

Jake pointed at him immediately. “Exactly! You bench-press refrigerators for emotional support. She weighs, like, three paperclips and a determined attitude.”

Boom smirked. “You wanna test that theory?” Jake scoffed.

“I don’t need to test it. I have eyes. And basic physics. And a strong understanding of how muscles work, gained entirely from watching sports movies.”

Boyle interjected, “Rocky isn’t a documentary, Jake.”

Peralta ignored his best friend “I am willing to bet my badge, my car, and Charles’ dignity that she cannot out-strength Terry.”

“Why is my strength always a benchmark?” The Sergeant was clearly done at this point.

“Because you are the human version of a forklift.”

The whistle blowed, and the game started. The ball was in Jake’s hand and he aimed for the goal at the first instance. He was confident that he was going to make it, too confident. Fire fighters were surrounding him, but he did a movie-like heroic turn and deflected them easily.

Until Y/N appeared out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground, she snatched the ball from his hands and ran towards the goal. Peralta wanted to deny it so bad, but this woman was fast. She moved like a panther hunting its prey. She elbowed Scully into his stomach as he attempted to take the ball from her, he was rolling on the grass, groaning in pain.

Before anyone could make sense of where the ball was, Y/N made the goal and a smirk was on her face as she looked at Jake, who was still on the ground. She crouched down next to him, sitting on her knees.

“What happened now, Detective? Cat got your tongue?” She giggled and ran back towards her team. They cheered for her, and lifted her off the ground to celebrate their goal. And that is when Peralta realised, she was so,

hot

and

attractive.

Jake felt himself getting turned on when her doe eyes met his.

“Stupid firefighters. Stupid football. Stupid grass.” He muttered under his breath, dusting off the mud from his shirt. Rosa approached him, arms folded, looking scary as ever.

“Dude, she folded you like a laundry mat.”

“I KNOW ROSA, DON’T RUB IT ON MY FACE.” He stomped away, acting like a kid who was denied his favourite chocolate.

“Guys!” Amy called out to everyone, she knew they had to buckle up after losing the first match. Everyone huddled around her, listening to her instructions. She was guiding everyone with her clipboard.

Yes.

Amy Santiago had a clipboard during a football game, but it was also the most ‘Amy Santiago’ thing she could do. “I’ve diagrammed their movement patterns! They’re running a zone defence!”

“Amy we are playing a friendly game.” Boyle interjected, again.

“There is no such thing as a friendly organized activity.”

She tried to run a strategy huddle.

Nobody listened, and the game started.

Amy blew a whistle she brought herself.

“PERALTA STOP IMPROVISING!”

“I thrive in improvisation!” Peralta ran across the field with ball, until he was knocked over by a foot. He was on the ground again. Twice in a row. He didn’t even have to look up to know who it was, but he did anyway.

“Is it just me or do you love kissing the ground, Peralta?” That stupid smirk was on her face again.

That stupid, sexy, smirk.

He got up on his feet, and faced her.

“I was analysing your strategy. I am actually very athletic.”

“Your strategy was tripping, and you fell three different ways.”

Before Peralta could counter back, Y/N flipped her hair and ran towards her team after saying, “Sorry, but I actually have a game to win.”   

“It was TWO times.” He shouted. “TWO GODDAMN TIMES.”

The whistle blew again, and it was the third and final round.

Terry was trying to be fair and sportsmanlike. “Remember, this is about teamwork and community bonding!”

A firefighter bumps him.

Terry reflexively blocks him with his big body and accidentally sends the guy spinning backwards. He gasped.

“TERRY IS SO SORRY!”

The firefighter was dazed, looking up to the big blue clear sky. “I think I saw God.”

Jake patted Terry’s shoulder. “This is exactly why I keep you.”

Rosa is terrifyingly good. She says nothing, and plays like it’s a survival trial. A firefighter tries to block her and she just stares at him which felt like daggers stabbing his chest. Without any trouble, he moved aside voluntarily.

Hitchcock was impressed. “Did she threaten him?”

“I don’t think she spoke.” Scully replied, his face red as he was not used to so much of running. Poor man wanted his afternoon burrito.  Peralta knew he had to make the final goal, he had to prove himself to Y/N.

He wasn’t flustered. He was competitive. Sure, she was attractive, but that had nothing to do with why his heart rate was currently matching a police siren.

Probably dehydration.

Rosa passed the ball to him, and he was running towards the goal. Jake was convinced this was his Nakatomi Plaza moment. All he needed now was broken glass, a helicopter, and a one-liner.

It was there, it was right there and he was five seconds away from it.

Five

Four

Three

Tw-

“OW” He was on the ground, laying on his stomach with a weight behind his back, and the ball disappeared from his hands.

“No No No No..NO!.” He knew. “Not again.” And that’s when he saw, Y/n ran towards the opposite end of the field and scored. Three times in a goddamn row, and Jake kissed the dirt more times than the girls he dated.

Y/n locked eye contact with him, brought her hand to her plump lips, and slowly blew him a kiss.

Peralta would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted. But he would rather die than admit that. Terry helped him up. “It’s okay Jake, it’s just a game. We will win next time.”

Jake couldn’t care less about what Terrance was saying. He couldn’t let Y/n have the last word. She noticed him as he stopped at the middle of the field, a few inches of space in between them.

“Detective,” she said evenly.

“Firefighter,” he replied, matching her tone.

A beat.

“You tackle aggressively,” he added.

“You run predictably.”

Jake took another step closer, their faces centimetres away from each other.

“You blew me a kiss.”

A tiny smirk.

“You looked like you needed encouragement.”

“I was winning mentally.”

“You were horizontal.”

Jake tried to hold eye contact. He really tried, but she was making it hard.

“Careful, firefighter. You’re getting confident.”

She didn’t move away. If anything, she leaned in just enough that he had to actually focus to keep eye contact.

“Confident?” she said quietly. “You walked across an entire field to talk to me after losing.”

Jake opened his mouth.

Nothing came out immediately.

“…I was making a point.”

“You were making an effort.” She didn’t know what she was doing, or why she was doing it. Before making an effort to stop herself, her hands instinctively went towards his head, removing a piece of grass which remained in his soft, brown hair.

Peralta liked the feeling of her hands, he felt himself going red.

“Goodbye, Detective Peralta.”

Jake didn’t answer. He just stood there. For a moment the field noise blurred into nothing, like someone had turned the volume down on the world and forgotten to turn it back up. His hand went absentmindedly to his hair where hers had been.

That was… new.

He’d been tackled, embarrassed, and publicly defeated all afternoon, but none of that was why his chest suddenly felt tight.

And that was the problem.

It wasn’t the game.

It wasn’t his ego.

It was her walking away.

Jake swallowed, still watching her rejoin her team, laughing like she hadn’t just ruined his entire ability to think straight.

“Okay,” he muttered quietly to himself.

He didn’t know what this was yet.

He only knew one thing.

Those who were strong enough to survive existed but there was collateral damage. And in this case, it was her heart. Her heart was breaking into pieces every day as she observed her  husband ignoring her efforts.

She cooked the most delicious dishes, organised his closet, ironed his clothes before an important meeting, kept the house clean, and did not want or wished for anything.

She only wanted him, all of him.

She knew that times have changed. And she knew any sensible and self-respecting woman would walk out of the house immediately if she was being mistreated like this. She knew she didn't deserve this. A loving and warm spirit like her did not deserve his coldness.  She knew it all, but why did she still stay?

She didn't know herself. She never received love, always learnt to give it. But she knew that when she loved, she gave her entire heart. She wasn't afraid to show it. However, no matter how much she tried, it was always the same.

The curt and short replies to her questions didn't go unnoticed. It was as though they spoke different languages, and she was the only one trying to translate.

Was there a secret language she was supposed to know before marrying him? She knew everything about him. What he liked, despised, hated, loved, and the list goes on endlessly.

But what about her likes?

What about her dislikes?

No one knew, not even her parents. They were busy making a ideal world for themselves, leaving her behind. The only time they needed her, was when the marriage was being decided. After that, silence.

No phone calls, no texts, no 'I love you'. Nothing.

She knew her love deserved to be reciprocated. She knew loving someone should not be so goddamn complicated.

But that was her problem. Along with love and gentleness, she had hope. A stupid feeling to give her satisfaction for a minute before tumbling down the hill again.

She hoped he came around, she hoped things would change and they can start a beautiful family. Since the age of 16, she hoped to give  love to her children, something which she never experienced.

"Will you be back before midnight?" Her voice was barely audible. Life could throw boulders at her, but she will pretend it never hurt her.

But he didn't reply, he was already out. In the car and on his way to his friends.

She still warmed food for him.

She still cleaned the table and kept a glass of water for him.

She still arranged his clothes for office tomorrow.

And she did it all because she hoped.

Both were inseparable and both understood each other without any difficulty. Sometimes they could sit in silence, and communicate without words. One would always know what the other wanted. Mia and Neil knew that people in both of their lives could come and go, but they will be each other's constant. They knew they were each other's soulmates.

The universe has a way of working on its own, but it was unpredictable and lacked certainty. But one thing was sure, Mia Cowper and Neil Perry had each other's backs even if the world was ending the next day.

Right now, Neil was rambling about Mr. Keating and this was a normal routine for him. Ever since that man walked into the classroom, Neil was filled with awe and admiration and could not stop talking about him. In a place where teachers read from textbooks and made students repeat the lessons like parrots, Mr. Keating made sure students felt the joy while learning.

He challenged the mundane way of teaching, and made the beauty of poetry flow into the veins of the boys, allowing them to feel the trembling melody. Neil continued elaborating on how they learn while playing football, and how write their own sonnets and poetry, and find their own style of walking?

"Walking?" Mia asked before taking a sip of rum. Neil nodded, the stars twinkling in his eyes as a smile was complimenting his countenance.

"Yes Mia" Neil swatted a mosquito flying around his face. "I know it doesn't make sense, but I assure you, I have never looked forward to a class more than this one. He is amazing and I wished more people like him existed." Mia could see a tinge of sadness in his eyes; she knew what her best friend truly meant.

"You're thinking about your father, aren't you?" She knew the kind of family he grew up in. The world would be burning but his father would make sure to send him off to Harvard and force him to get a medical degree. She knew her dear best friend didn't want this, and no matter how much he tried explaining, his father would always have the last word.

"I haven't even told him I am in the play, Mia. What kind of a son hides from his own family?" Neil looked down, fidgeting with the buttons of his Welton coat.

Mia takes his hand and looks into his eyes. "The kind of son who isn't afraid to live, Neil. You only live once, so treasure every opportunity and moment which comes in your way. No one can tell you otherwise and if they do, use that voice of yours. You must act only on stage, not in front of your father."

Neil nodded, he knows it's easier to say than actually doing it. Standing up? Using your own voice? Those phrases were not in his personal dictionary since everything in his life was controlled and dictated by his father. The kind of books he read, the sports he played, and his entire life trajectory was always decided by him.

"He is going to regret all his words when you become a famous actor, and he has to stand in line to get your autograph" Mia tried her best to lighten the mood, and it worked. Neil snickered, and playfully hit her shoulder. She truly knew what to say which made him feel better immediately.

"Okay okay but I believe you have to go now. The warden is going to take rounds and he will kill me if he notices I am not in my room." Neil realised it was 10 minutes beyond the curfew and failure to follow is going to lead to punishment. As mentioned before, Welton is a dictatorship.

"Neil, I drank so much, I fear I need to use the washroom." The girl was squirming in discomfort. It's not like she hasn't used the bathroom before; she has but Neil made sure to cover her face with his scarf and wrap his coat around her. It was risky, but you can't ignore when nature calls.

"Mia, it's like you want me to get expelled." Neil stated as irritation, annoyance, and sleep was visible in his eyes.

"Ugh shut up! We have done this before and don't you worry, I shall lay low. I will be in and out in a jiffy." Mia squeezed his flushed cheeks and giggled. He swatted her cold hand away from his face. He knew arguing with her is like talking to a wall, quite pointless.

"At least cover yourself. Tie your hair up so you at least look like a boy from the back." Neil jumped from the wall, reaching out his hand to assist his dear friend as she was not sober.

"Ay Ay Captain!" Mia chuckled and did the needful. She tied her hair and Neil helped her with the attire.

"Do I look like a gross male specimen?" Mia straightened her back and heaved her chest out, imitating the physique of a man and began to do a funny walk.

"Mia, you are horribly drunk" Neil bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing as he witnessed her shenanigans. "Come on, let's hurry up."

Both of them rushed across the school field, hiding behind trees whenever a torched flashed their way. Mia was trying her best not to lose control of her bladder, and Neil felt like he was committing the worst crime in the history of crimes.

"I must say, denying the right to pee especially to a young woman is quite horrible. Your school is a hell hole."

"Would you shut up? You're not supposed to be here in the first place." Beads of sweat were forming on Neil's forehead, which was funny because the temperature was surely in its negatives.

"Oh my god, Neil. Do you want me to take off my skirt and pee in the bushes? Because let me tell you, I absolutely have no problem in doing so." Mia folded her hands, waiting for his response.

Neil knew that if he said yes, his friend would gladly get half-naked and not even have an ounce of shame. He was used to her being like this, she took 'freedom of speech and movement' in the United States quite literally.

But that is what made him love her even more, she was daring and how he wished he was like her in front of his father. Not afraid to express what he wants and desires. It was extremely unorthodox of a girl talking to a boy like that unless both were married, but Mia did not care one bit and she knew she could be herself in front of Neil Perry.

"I beg you Mia, please be quiet. I will get you in that bathroom but all I need is your cooperation." Neil reasoned with her softly as he observed her red cheeks glowing under the moonlight. She was not in her senses right now, but when is she ever?

Neil held her hand and rushed into the building, managing to reach the hallway of his dorm without getting noticed by the teacher. He noticed his friends crowding around Meek’s room, they surely realised his absence. Charlie Dalton locked eye contact with him, and saw him holding the hand of a person who was standing next to him. He instantly knew who it was.

“Oh, my lord, what do we have here?” Charlie chuckled and began to walk towards them, the rest of the herd following. “Is that the wonderful Mia? Do you want to pee again?” The last time she was here, Charlie and Todd caught Neil sneaking her out through the bathroom window. It was hilarious, and obviously he would not snitch on his friend. Instead, he helped them and promised not to tell a soul. He knew the repercussions, and he would never let Neil get in trouble.

Mia nodded, not being able to speak as the scarf was mumbling her speech and was kind of suffocating her. “Come on, let’s get you out before the warden notices you and kills us all.” Charlie guided her, and immediately knew she drank as the smell of rum could not be ignored.

Neil was about to follow but Todd stopped him. “There is someone in our room.”

“Who?” He couldn't think of anyone who could be here at this ungodly hour.

“See for yourself” When Todd said that, an unknowing chill went through his spine. He walked towards the doorway, and pushed the handle.

He forgot to breathe when he saw his father, sitting at his desk. It looked like he was waiting for him for a long time. Neil dug his nails into the palm of his hand, his heart was racing, and he felt like he was going to faint. There is no one in the world who could make him feel this uneasiness except for his beloved father.

“Dad” His voice was barely audible.

“Neil” The weight and depth with which he spoke, did not go unnoticed. Neil immediately knew why he was here.

“Before you say anything-

His father slammed his hands on his desk, making a loud echo in the room. “Don’t you dare talk back at me.”

“It is bad enough you wasted you time in this absurd acting business, but you deliberately deceived me. How did you except to get away with this?” He took one step closer, and Neil backed against the wall. The fear and anxiety were knocking his heart out of his chest.

“This is all because of that Keating, isn’t it? He has poisoned your mind. I got to know of your secret through a friend of mine, his niece is also in the play and I could not believe my ears. I thought he was mistaken, but you have embarrassed and fooled me!”

Neil tried to say something, anything but it was like an invisible hand was covering his mouth. “First thing in the morning tomorrow, you will tell your teacher that you are quitting the play. I have worked hard to get you here and you will not waste my efforts.”

“I-I can’t,” Neil manged to say something. “I am the lead of the play, father. The show is tomorrow night, and I cannot back out.”

“Neil.” Mr. Perry’s voice reverberated in the room. “I do not care if the world is ending tomorrow night. You. Will. Quit. The. Play.” Every word he spoke sent daggers to Neil’s heart. He nodded in helplessness.

“Yes Sir.”

“NO” The door slammed open, and Mia was standing at the entrance along with Charlie and Todd. “He will not quit the play.” Her eyes were burning with anger, she was not wrapped with a scarf anymore and her entire body language resembled that of a soldier, facing the enemy on the battlefield.

“Mia? What are you doing here?” Mr. Perry was flabbergasted. He was shocked, but more importantly, angry. Who had the audacity to defy his word?

“Mia, please go.” Neil begged and attempted to shut the door. Mia kicked it open and walked towards his father, pointing a finger at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself Mr. Perry. Just because you could not achieve your dreams of becoming a doctor, doesn’t mean you impose your wishes on Neil. He has his own life, and you do not have the authority to tell him what to do and what not to do” The hallway began to crowd with other students, and the voices were rising.

“His own life?” Mr. Perry scoffed. “I fed him, clothe him, invested in him, brought him to this fancy school, and you-,” he jabbed a finger into her shoulder, making her loose her balance for a bit. “are telling me that I need to let him live his life?”

“Guess what? News flash Mr. Perry! These are the things you are supposed to do for your child. If you had so many problems, why did you give birth to him? He did not ask to be your son. He did not ask to be sent to Welton. And he certainly did not ask for this life, the one you are so adamant on giving him!”

“Your son wants to be an actor, and you know what?” Tears welled up in Mia’s eyes. She did not know if it was because of the rum, or the fact she was finally looking into the eyes of the man who is denying her best friend’s happiness. She could kill for the people she loved, and could commit the unthinkable if it protected their peace and gave them security. Her hands were trembling, and her head was pounding.

“He is damn good at it. I saw him during rehearsals. His acting could bring a cold-hearted man like you to tears. But you will never know that because you have never seen him doing what he loves the most.”

Arms rested on her shoulder. Looking back, she saw Neil. His cheeks were streaked with tears. “Stop it, Mia. It is not worth it. You are calling trouble for yourself.” She chuckled and wiped his cheeks with the sleeves of her sweater. “If I have to get in trouble to save you, I would do it a thousand times again.”

“ENOUGH” Mr. Perry walked towards Mia and snatched her away from his son. “You and Keating are a bad influence on my son. I will make sure both of your lives will never be the same again after tonight. I am taking you to the headmaster” Mia winced in pain when the man grabbed her arm, digging his nails into the flesh of her skin.

“Father, stop it.” Neil was not crying anymore. He blocked the entrance of the door, not letting them leave. His father pushed him away but was soon obstructed by another man, Charlie. “I am sorry Mr. Perry, but you have to go through us first if you wish to take Mia to Mr. Nolan.”

Soon all the boys created a blockade, it was unity at its finest. All for a girl who they did not even know, but knew this much that her loyalty was admirable. One could surely tell that the old man in front of them was getting more and more furious.

“If you all do not wish to get expelled, all of you will go back into your rooms and none of us have to recall this incident ever happened.” Mr. Perry hoped this was enough of a threat, but they did not even move an inch. It looked like they were statues, but their eyes held determination and grit you have never seen before. Mia smiled at Charlie, her gratefulness was unmeasurable at this moment.

“I will not repeat again, Mr. Perry.” Charlie stepped forward. “If you do not leave right now, I shall give you a reason to.”

“Yeah? What is that?” The man scoffed, what could this young lad do? Charlie rolled up his sleeves, and clenched his knuckles.

Is he going to punch him? Mia wondered but before she could stop him or do anything, Charlie punched the boy who stood next to him, Knox Overstreet. Blood was coming out of his nose and he was groaning in pain.

“What the hell man?” Knox was hurt and confused, and everyone around him was trying to make sense of the matter.

Charlie began speaking, rolling his sleeves down. “If you do not leave right now, I shall tell Mr. Nolan that you barged into our dorm, began to scream at Neil, caused a scene and when we were trying to control the situation, you punched Knox in the face. These are clear grounds for our parents to take strict action against you. Harassment towards the students is not tolerated at Welton, and our school will surely side with the victim. Am I not right Knox?”

Knox nodded in pain, Todd trying to stop the bleeding with his handkerchief.

“And who will ever believe you?” Mr. Perry scoffed, clearly underestimating the situation.

Charlie had a wide smirk on his face and pointed at the crowd of boys behind him. “All of them. We, at Welton, look out for one another. We stand tall and proud when realists like you suck the marrow out of our lives. So, with all due respect, you leave right now, or I will make my way to Mr. Nolan’s room.”

“Boys!” Charlie exclaimed. “Do we solemnly swear to protect Neil Perry and Mia Cowper, and conceal what truly happened tonight?”

“We swear!” The boys shouted back, and the only thing which was left to do, was Mr. Perry to leave the premise immediately. He harshly let go of Mia, and Neil caught her in his arms. He brushed her hair away from her face, his eyes laced with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Yeah, I am fine.”

“This is not over, son. I will come back.” Neil’s father looked at all of them with disgust, and spite. He put his hat over his head, and left the hallway.

“You better not quit the play, Neil.” Charlie laughed and put his hand on his shoulder. Neil could not help it, and engulfed him in a hug. Charlie could feel his shoulder getting wet. Seeing him cry, softened Mia and she covered her face with her hands. He knew the girl was crying as well, hearing the way she snorted. Everyone started giggling and Charlie was having the time of his life.

“Oh, my lord.” The young man took Mia in a hug as well. “What will I ever do with the both of you?”

The hallway was filled with laughter and giggles. Knox was still in pain, but it was nothing if it meant he had to withstand it for his close friend.

That was the thing about Welton. It was a dictatorship, consisting of polished shoes, pressed blazers, and rules carved into stone, but there would always be a few boys who refused to fit inside its mold.

Neil pulled away from the hug, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. For a moment, he looked terrified. Then something steadier replaced it.

Charlie looked at him. “Neil…”

Then he said, softly but clearly,

“Carpe diem.”

Down the long Welton hallway, beneath portraits of stern headmasters and rules that had outlived generations, a handful of students stood taller than the system built to keep them small.

They weren’t shouting and protesting.

They were simply choosing.