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WILLOW

I stare in awe as I take everything in because there’s no way I’m in Old San Juan.

Like we’re actually walking on the cobblestone streets and are surrounded by the vibrant buildings that look like postcards have come to life.

Professor Wallace is somewhere behind us giving historical context, but honestly, I'm too mesmerized to focus on the lecture portion of this experience. We’re allowed to stay with our professors if we wish, but they’ve also given us free rein to explore a bit on our own as long as we’re at the shuttle that will drive us back to our hotel by five o’clock.

Madison and I talked the morning after my rendezvous with Blaise and surprisingly, she didn’t press me for details about Blaise. However the looks she kept throwing my way are more than enough.

I also got a call from Knox right after Madison and I finished talking to follow up on his texts from the night before.

He was just letting me know that Leo’s deal with the Red Wolves had officially been pulled.

What he doesn’t know is that I already knew because I was with Blaise when he told him.

At least I don’t have to worry about Leo anymore.

I could also blame it on my ADHD and the fact that I’m becoming more overstimulated, but it has little to do with my surroundings and more to do with everything else that is going through my head and the man walking beside me.

I steal a glance at Blaise, who has his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

He's wearing a simple white t-shirt and khaki shorts, looking effortlessly put-together while I'm over here trying not to think about how those same hands felt on my body just days ago. It sucked not being able to spend more time together, but it’s risky seeing as how this is still a school trip at the end of the day.

However, the memory of the night we spent together sends heat racing up my neck, and I force myself to focus on the uneven stones under my feet instead of my desire to jump his bones every waking second.

"Focus, Willow," I say under my breath, just as Madison appears at my side like she's materialized out of thin air.

"This place is unreal. The architecture is so just…perfection.” She points toward a yellow building nearby. “Like that is stunning.”

"Agreed. It's like someone painted the whole city in watercolors. Makes me want to take a million photos."

Madison, Tyler, Blaise, and I end up breaking apart from the group and finding ourselves walking along the El Paseo de la Princesa, a long, winding promenade that has been a part of Old San Juan since the eighteen hundreds.

Trees sway overhead giving us some shade, but don’t block our ability to take in the stunning views of San Juan Bay.

"Since you mentioned photos earlier, Maddie," Tyler's voice cuts through my thoughts. It’s then I notice his hair is sticking up at odd angles, as if he’d been running his hands through it. "Madison, you’ve got to see this fountain. It’s incredible."

Madison's entire face lights up. "Really? Lead the way, tour guide Tyler."

"Tour guide Tyler?" He laughs, falling into step beside her. "I like that. Very official sounding."

"You'd need a little flag on a stick to make it official," Madison teases, bumping his shoulder with hers. "And maybe a whistle."

"A whistle? What am I, a gym teacher?" The confusion is evident on his face.

"You know exactly what I mean." Madison grins as she pulls her digital camera out of her purse. "Come on, show me this fountain before the light changes."

I watch them walk ahead, Madison's animated gestures and Tyler's eager responses creating their own little bubble of energy.

"They're cute together," I murmur to myself.

"Yeah, they are." Blaise's voice is closer than I expected, and I turn to find him studying me. "Tyler's been talking about her nonstop since we got here."

"Has he? That's sweet."

"Very sweet," Blaise agrees, but there's something in his tone that makes me think he's not just talking about Tyler and Madison.

We follow the cobblestone path until we reach Fuente Raíces, the fountain standing as a quiet testament to Old San Juan’s layered history. It’s more than just a pretty spot. It’s a symbol of the island’s roots, where the indigenous Taíno, African, and Spanish influences all converge.

"We should catch up with them," I say, but I don't move. Neither does Blaise.

The fountain creates a natural gathering spot, and I watch as Tyler animatedly explains something to Madison while she snaps photos.

They're completely absorbed in what the other is saying. I haven’t fully been able to pinpoint if there is something more than friendship blooming there yet because I’ve been too absorbed in my own shit.

"They don't have to hide," I observe quietly.

Blaise lets out a small sigh. "No. They don't."

The weight of our secret sits between us like a third person.

Three days since that night in his room, and we've been playing this careful dance of making sure no one notices anything going on between us.

It's exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.

And how will we continue this when we get back to Virginia?

"Willow! Blaise!" Madison waves us over. "You have to see this up close."

We join them at the fountain's edge, where Tyler is pointing out details in the sculpture. "See how the three figures represent the cultural influences?"

I lean in to get a better look, genuinely interested despite my mind refusing to focus on any one thing. The figures seem to dance together, each distinct but unified in their shared space. It's beautiful and haunting given the history behind it.

I reach for my phone to take a photo, but my fingers fumble with the case and it slips from my hands. "Shit," I mutter, watching it bounce once on the cobblestones.

Blaise moves before I can even register what's happening, bending down to scoop it up. When he straightens and hands it back to me, our fingers brush. It's barely a touch. It looks like nothing to anyone watching, but to me, it’s everything.

"Thanks," I manage to say, hoping my voice sounds normal.

"No problem." His eyes hold mine for just a beat too long before he steps back.

Madison, thankfully, is too busy adjusting her camera settings to notice our moment. Tyler is still examining the fountain like he's planning to write a thesis on it.

"The Taíno influence is fascinating," Tyler says, completely oblivious to the tension crackling between Blaise and me. "You can see it in the way?—"

"Tyler, breathe." Madison laughs, lowering her camera. "You're about to hyperventilate over historical architecture."

"Sorry." He grins sheepishly. "I just find it interesting how all these different cultures created something beautiful together although that wasn’t the goal.”

None of us have to say what the actual end goal was because we all know. We stand at the fountain for a few more minutes, taking in the significance of it before we drift off and continue our self-guided tour of Old San Juan.

We drift from the fountain toward the heart of the marketplace, and suddenly we're hit with the scents of garlic, cilantro, and something sweet and fried that makes my mouth water instantly.

"Oh my God, do you smell that?" Madison stops dead in her tracks, nearly causing Tyler to crash into her back.

"Which smell?" Tyler asks, steadying himself with a hand on her shoulder.

"All of them," she says, spinning in a slow circle with her arms outstretched. "It's like someone bottled up every amazing smell in the world and dumped it here."

She's not wrong. The market stretches out before us in a riot of color and sound that makes my senses go into overdrive. "I don't even know where to start," I admit, watching a woman flip what looks like plantains on a massive griddle.

"Start with these," Tyler says, already gravitating toward a stall selling small paper boats filled with golden-brown fritters. "Alcapurrias. My roommate at Crestwood is from Puerto Rico and he told me about these."

"What's in them?" Madison asks, peering over his shoulder.

"Taro root and meat, I think? They're fried." Tyler's already digging for his wallet. "Four, please," he tells the vendor in careful Spanish.

The elderly man behind the counter beams at Tyler's attempt at the language and hands over four steaming portions.

"Gracias," Tyler says proudly, then immediately turns to us after we thank him for buying us food. "Okay, who wants to taste it first or should we all do it together?"

"Together," Madison declares, holding up her fritter like she's making a toast. "On three. One, two?—"

"Wait!" Tyler interrupts, nearly dropping his alcapurria as he fumbles for his phone. "We should document this occasion."

"Seriously?" I laugh, but I pose anyway, holding my fritter up to match Madison's.

"This is important," Tyler says as he snaps a photo. "My roommate will never forgive me if I don't have evidence."

"Your roommate's going to think you're a tourist," Blaise points out, but he's smiling as he says it.

"I am a tourist," Tyler shrugs. "Now, on three for real this time."

We bite into the fritters simultaneously, and the explosion of flavor makes my eyes widen. The crispy exterior gives way to something savory and rich, with hints of garlic and herbs I can't identify.

"Holy shit," Madison mumbles around her mouthful. "This is incredible."

"Language, Madison," Tyler teases, then immediately takes another huge bite.

"Says the guy who just inhaled half of his in one go," she tosses back.

I catch Blaise watching me as I eat, and when our eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow. "Good?"

"Amazing," I confirm, licking my fingers without thinking.

His gaze drops to my mouth and then my fingers. The heat rises to my cheeks as I realize what I've just done, but before I can feel too mortified, Tyler accidentally knocks over his water bottle while reaching for napkins.