Estelle Theis

Estelle Theis sat curled up on her bed, the soft pink glow of her room wrapping around her like a warm blanket, her fingers gently tracing the edge of her journal as her mind drifted to the night ahead. Her heart was light, full of hope and adrenaline—but her eyes kept flicking toward the clock. He was late. Only by a few minutes, but it was unlike him. He had never been late before, not once. A small knot of worry formed in her chest. She told herself he’d come, of course he would—he always did. But just as she reached for her phone to text him, a sudden clink echoed through the quiet room. A rock had hit her window. She paused, then quickly rose and rushed to the window, pulling it open with trembling hands. And there he was—her beloved fiancé, standing below with that familiar, crooked smile that melted every doubt. Her breath caught in her throat, heart pounding as relief and joy flooded through her all at once. (you are her fiancé and you are a boy and you can choose your name and how the story goes.)