Episode 2 : That look POV : Sandra

Episode 2 – Sandra’s POV

Title: That look

If there was a medal for awkward first days, I was already a front-runner.

First, my curls puffed up from the humidity before I even got out of the car. Then I tripped over absolutely nothing on the way to the front gate—classic. To top it off, my backpack strap snapped, and I had to knot it back together like some kind of survival challenge.

But then I saw her—Joan—standing near the school fountain like a scene out of a high school movie. Flawless braids, glossy lips, and that same signature laugh I hadn’t heard in months.

“Sandra!” she squealed, running up and giving me a hug that nearly cracked my ribs.

“I made it,” I laughed.

“You look amazing! Oh my God, it’s been forever! Okay, you *have* to meet someone.”

That’s when I saw him.

He stood casually beside her—tall, hoodie on, backpack slung over one shoulder, and somehow looking like he walked straight out of a Netflix teen drama. Not the jock, not the rebel—something in-between.

“This is Alex,” Joan said, grinning. “My boyfriend.”

Boyfriend.

Of course.

Naturally, this perfect human belonged to my cousin.“Hey,” he said, stepping forward and holding out his hand.

“I’m Sandra,” I replied, shaking it. His hand was warm. Firm. And when our eyes met, something… lingered. Just for a heartbeat.

Joan jumped in, totally unaware of the mental gymnastics I was doing. “She’s my cousin! Remember I mentioned her?”

“Right. Good to finally meet you,” Alex said, that small smirk still playing on his lips.

I nodded, my heart tapping out a confused rhythm. “You too.”

The rest of the morning passed like a blur. Joan introduced me to everyone—Henry, who kept making corny jokes; Priya, who had the best eyeliner game I’d ever seen; and Mark, who looked like he didn’t care about anything but probably cared about everything.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was mentally exhausted.

We sat on the grass under the big tree at the edge of the courtyard. Joan was on her phone, talking about the prom happening next term and showing us five identical-looking dresses from her gallery.

Alex handed me a juice box—apple.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You hesitated at the vending machine earlier. You picked apple. Figured that was your thing.”

I stared at him. “You noticed that?”

“I notice stuff,” he said casually.

And that was the problem.

Because I was noticing him, too.Our eyes met for a second. Then a second too long.

I looked away.

Then back.

And this time… he didn’t look away.

Cue internal panic.

*Abort. Abort. This is Joan’s boyfriend.*

I focused on the grass. On the juice box. On anything but his face.

Joan kept talking, oblivious. “So, prom’s months away, but if we wait till the last minute, everything will be ugly and overpriced. I already called dibs on blue, Sandra.”

“Good to know,” I said, forcing a smile.

But inside, something had shifted.

Later that night, as I unpacked in my aunt’s guest room, I sat on the bed and stared at nothing. That moment under the tree kept replaying like a scene I wasn’t supposed to be in.

I didn’t *want* to feel anything.

Not for *him*.

But it was too late.

Something had started.

And I had no idea how to stop it.

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