It was the last week of May, and everything felt like it was speeding up and slowing down at the same time.
Final exams. Senior pranks. Last-year traditions. Goodbye speeches.
Everyone was buzzing with it — plans, college choices, countdowns, and chaos. The hallways were filled with scribbled yearbooks and leftover confetti. Bell should've been caught up in it too, but instead, she found herself noticing one thing more than anything else:
Alessandro was quiet.
Not distant exactly. Just… quieter than usual. Present, but never quite all the way there.
He still held her hand when they walked to class. Still picked her up in the morning, still kissed her goodbye every afternoon. But his mind was somewhere else — and she could feel it.
"You okay?" she asked one day as they sat side by side in the library, textbooks open but untouched.
"Yeah," he said. "Just tired."
But it wasn't just that.
She knew him too well.
Bell didn't push. Not yet. But the silence between them was starting to feel less like peace, and more like space.
....
Prom was late this year, May 25th. Graduation came after, on June 3rd.
The school-rented ballroom glittered like something out of a dream. Soft gold lights overhead, candlelit tables around the edges, the floor full of silk dresses and polished shoes, laughter and camera flashes echoing through the air.
Bell stood near the edge of the room for a second, watching it all — the blur of movement, the weight of the moment. Her dress shimmered when she turned, subtle but breathtaking. Her makeup was soft but bold, and her hair was swept back in waves like she belonged in an old film.
Alessandro spotted her from across the room.
And for a moment, he forgot how heavy everything felt.
He made his way toward her through the crowd, his black tux perfectly tailored, tie loose in that deliberate kind of way he always wore it. His eyes never left her.
"You're dangerous," he said as he reached her, voice low, lips brushing her ear.
She laughed, gently resting her hand on his chest. "Took you long enough."
"I was trying not to pass out," he said, stepping back to really look at her. "You look like trouble."
"You look like you haven't slept in a week."
He didn't deny it. Just smiled — tired, but warm — and offered his hand.
"Dance with me?"
...…
They moved together easily. They always had.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands on her waist as the slow song spilled from the speakers. Everyone around them blurred. He leaned into her like he was trying to memorize the way she felt — the scent of her perfume, the softness of her skin, the rhythm of her breathing.
But even as he smiled, even as he kissed her cheek, Bell could feel it.
Something was off.
His hands were steady, but his mind wasn't with her — not fully. Not the way it usually was.
Still, she said nothing.
Not here. Not yet.
INT. CASANOVA ESTATE
They left the ballroom just after midnight. The limo had dropped them at her house. Her parents were away for the weekend — a quiet promise Alessandro had definitely not forgotten.
They didn't speak much as they climbed the stairs to her room. Bell kicked off her heels at the door. He tugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his cuffs like muscle memory.
The music from the night still echoed in her head.
She turned to him, expecting something soft, slow, like always.
But he came to her fast — hungry.
His lips found hers like he couldn't breathe without them. His hands ran up her back, pulled her in, pressed her closer. She didn't resist. She let him have her — let him kiss her like she was the only thing holding him together.
But even as her heart pounded and her breath caught, a small part of her knew.
This wasn't just passion.
This was him trying not to break.
Trying to drown out whatever storm was building inside him.
He pulled back just slightly, forehead resting against hers.
"Ale…" she whispered, fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. "What's going on?"
He didn't answer.
Not yet.
He kissed her again instead — slower this time, but still with that edge — like he didn't know how to say it out loud.
Like she was the only thing that made sense right now.
.....
INT. GRADUATION DAY
The heat had settled over the stadium in lazy waves, warming the rows of chairs and the bright sea of caps and gowns. Families filled the stands, waving signs, snapping pictures. Teachers stood on stage with tired smiles, passing out diplomas like golden tickets.
Bell scanned the crowd, heart racing, cap slightly crooked on her head. Somewhere in the mess of blue robes and tassels, she spotted him — Alessandro, tall and sharp and already looking like the future.
When their eyes met, he grinned and gave her a dramatic thumbs-up.
She rolled her eyes.
She couldn't stop smiling.
AFTERWARDS
The courtyard was chaos — hugs and flash photos, parents crying, students tossing caps and shouting. Bell barely had time to catch her breath before Alessandro swept her into a hug, spinning her once before setting her back down.
"You did it," he said, hands still around her waist.
"We did it," she corrected. "Four years. And we didn't even kill each other."
"I think we deserve an award."
"We just got diplomas."
"Yeah, but I want one that sparkles."
She laughed and pressed her forehead to his chest. His arms wrapped tighter around her.
For the rest of the afternoon, they were everywhere together — taking pictures with friends, jumping into group hugs, sneaking off to grab iced drinks before the reception dinner. Alessandro was charming, relaxed, present.
He kissed her temple while her dad took a photo. Twirled her around while they waited for cake. Even whispered something that made her snort-laugh right in front of the headmaster.
He looked okay.
He felt okay.
And Bell believed it. She let herself believe it.
Because today was too beautiful to question anything.
"So what now?" she asked later, head resting against his shoulder as they sat in the back garden of her house, champagne flutes half full beside them.
Alessandro looked up at the sky.
"Now?" he said. "Now we have the whole summer."
She smiled and closed her eyes.
Alessandro wasn't smiling. In fact he sat there staring up at the sky with a hardened look in his eyes.
Bell was content, not knowing — not yet — that everything was about to change.