1975: A Once in a Lifetime

Eleanor lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The dim glow of her bedside lamp flickered softly, casting shadows that danced along the walls. The night outside was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves against her window.

She should be sleeping.

She should be happy.

And yet, her heart felt like it was carrying a weight she couldn't understand.

She turned onto her side, her fingers absentmindedly brushing against the fabric of her blanket. The memory of Antonio's voice echoed in her mind.

"I want to win your heart in a way you deserve."

The way he looked at her—warm, sincere, as if she was someone precious—left an unfamiliar tightness in her chest.

Was this really happening? Did she actually say yes?

She closed her eyes, replaying the moment when Antonio stood before her with those soft, admiring eyes, calling her beautiful, holding her close as they swayed under the fairy lights. He had been so confident, so sure of himself. As if this was something he truly wanted.

But why?

Eleanor sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. She had always been the type to stay in the background, to avoid attention. She wasn't like the girls Antonio used to be interested in—charming, popular, effortlessly captivating. She was just Eleanor. The quiet one. The girl who was too careful with everything, afraid to take up space.

So why her?

She slipped out of bed and walked towards her mirror, the wooden floor cool beneath her bare feet. The girl staring back at her looked just as unsure as she felt.

She traced her reflection with her fingers, sighing.

"Why would someone like him want someone like me?" she murmured.

Antonio was light, spontaneous, bold in ways she wasn't. Would he eventually realize she wasn't as interesting as he thought? That she wasn't someone to be admired, only tolerated?

A soft knock on the door startled her.

"Eleanor?"

Pacita.

She hesitated before answering. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Pacita peeked inside before stepping in completely, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Eleanor standing in front of the mirror. "What are you doing? Admiring yourself?" she teased, plopping down onto the bed.

Eleanor let out a small laugh, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Just thinking."

Pacita hummed, tilting her head. "About Antonio?"

Eleanor didn't answer, but her silence was enough.

Pacita sighed dramatically. "Oh no. You're overthinking again, aren't you?" She sat up, hugging a pillow. "Let me guess. You're wondering if Antonio was serious, if you made the right choice, if he'll change his mind and realize you're actually a frog disguised as a human."

Eleanor shot her a look. "That last part was unnecessary."

Pacita grinned. "But I'm right, aren't I?"

Eleanor sighed, sitting down next to her. She didn't have to say anything for Pacita to know.

"You're thinking too much, El," Pacita said, her voice softer this time. "You don't have to question everything all the time. Maybe... just let yourself be happy for once?"

Eleanor played with the hem of her sleeve. "It's not that simple, Pacita."

"It is," Pacita countered. "Antonio likes you. You like him. That's all that matters right now."

Eleanor hesitated. "What if I'm not enough?"

Pacita frowned. "Not enough for what?"

"For someone like him," Eleanor admitted. "He's... I don't know. He's confident. He's carefree. He's everything I'm not. What if he realizes that and changes his mind?"

Pacita's expression softened. She reached over and flicked Eleanor's forehead, making her wince.

"Ouch!"

"That's for being stupid," Pacita said. "Antonio isn't some clueless guy who just chases after random people for fun. Do you think he'd go through all that trouble for someone he didn't really care about?"

Eleanor thought about the effort Antonio had put in—the surprise, the fairy lights, the way he held her close as if she was the only person that mattered.

"You're not a backup option, El. You never were," Pacita continued. "And if Antonio ever makes you feel like you are, I'll personally kick him."

Eleanor let out a small, reluctant smile.

Pacita nudged her shoulder. "Just take it one step at a time, okay? You don't have to have all the answers now. Just... try."

Eleanor exhaled, nodding. "Okay."

Pacita beamed. "Good. Now go to sleep before you develop more unnecessary doubts."

As Pacita left the room, Eleanor laid back down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling once again.

Maybe Pacita was right. Maybe she was overthinking it.

Maybe, just maybe... she could let herself believe in this.

For now.

As the days passed, Antonio's efforts became more obvious. He always seemed to be around, offering Eleanor little things—an extra bottle of water when it was hot, an umbrella when it rained, even an energy bar on the days he thought she might have skipped lunch.

At first, Eleanor tried to brush it off. "You don't have to do this," she had told him one afternoon when he placed a warm cup of taho in her hands.

"I know," Antonio had replied, grinning. "But I want to."

And so, she let him.

The school wasn't blind to the changes. People began to talk. Whispers followed them when Antonio walked beside her, carrying her books as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their classmates stole glances when he lingered by her desk before class, teasingly flicking the corner of her notebook just to get her attention.

"She's not even his type," someone muttered in the hallway one day. "I don't get it."

"Maybe it's a dare?" another voice speculated.

Eleanor heard them. Of course, she did.

But before she could let the words sink in, Antonio turned to her, completely unfazed, and said, "Hey, do you want to go somewhere after class?"

She hesitated, glancing around. People were watching. Judging.

But then she looked at him.

And Antonio was looking at her—not at anyone else, not at their whispers, just her.

So she smiled, small but sure. "Okay."

And just like that, the rest of the world faded away.