The morning sun shone softly on the white stone of the church, casting long golden shadows over the courtyard as the day of the youth trip finally arrived. Excitement buzzed in the air like a song, light and full of promise.
Lynette walked through the church gates, the soft click of her black platform heels tapping gently on the path. She wore a white dress that fell just below her knees, simple, elegant, and flowing like it had been made just for her. Her wavy, long hair framed her face naturally, catching the sunlight in soft glimmers. A little black handbag swung at her side, packed with snacks her mom had lovingly prepared for the trip.
As she stepped inside, a loud burst of laughter and tiny footsteps echoed across the courtyard.
"Lynette!" the children squealed.
A crowd of little arms wrapped around her in a joyful ambush. She laughed, crouching slightly as the children hugged her tightly.
Everyone turned to look. Even the youth members and volunteers paused. Whispers rippled through the group. How had she become so close to all the kids in such a short time?
Lynette smiled and reached into her bag. "Shh," she whispered with a playful wink, "This is our little secret," and passed out small candies, one for each child. They gasped and giggled like it was the greatest treasure on earth.
One of the smallest girls stood on tiptoe and handed Lynette a single red rose. "For you, Miss Lynette."
Lynette blinked, touched, then gently tucked the rose into her hair. The colour popped against her dark waves, and for a moment, it was as if an angel stood in the morning sun.
Just then, Rowan emerged from the back of the church, his arms full of instruments they were loading for the trip. His eyes caught hers, and he froze.
She looked up, laughing with the children, the rose in her hair, her white dress catching the wind just slightly.
For a second, he forgot to breathe.
Rowan's stare was different today from the one on the first day Lynette came to church. It was not like a sharp stare that could pierce you, but soft as it wanted to tell something else.
"Rowan, come help!" someone called from the bus, snapping him back to reality.
"Y-Yeah," he muttered, shaking his head as he turned away.
Soon after, the air was full of movement, bags being passed, coolers loaded. The bus had arrived, bright and big and humming with anticipation.
Father Lucca stepped forward. He raised his hand, and everyone fell silent.
"Let this trip be filled with joy, with learning, and with the bonds that bring us together," he said, his voice strong and serene. "May God guide your journey and bless every step you take."
"Amen," they echoed at the same moment.
One by one, everyone began boarding the bus. Lynette, carrying her bag and a small box of bottled water, made her way toward the bus. Just as she reached the door, Rowan stepped out of the bus, turning quickly, and they collided.
The box slipped. She stumbled and hit the ground with a soft thud, hissing as her palm scraped the pavement.
"Hey!" Rowan's voice rang with surprise.
Without hesitation, he turned to his friend. "Take this inside," he said, handing off the bag and box.
Then, without waiting for a reply, he reached down and gently grabbed Lynette's wrist.
"Come on," he said, voice low, guiding her quickly but carefully back toward the church.
From the bus window, Mysha watched it all unfold, her jaw clenched, her eyes dark with jealousy. She gripped her seat tightly, her nails digging into the vinyl.
Inside the church, the silence was cool and still.
Rowan led Lynette to a small side room and opened the first aid kit. She sat silently, a little breathless from the fall.
Without saying a word, he knelt before her, gently took her hand, and began cleaning the wound.
His touch was surprisingly tender. He blew softly on the wound to ease the sting before wrapping it carefully in a clean bandage. The only sound was the rustle of gauze and the quiet thud of her heartbeat in her ears.
Lynette looked at him, unsure of what to say. But Rowan didn't look up. His brows were furrowed in focus, his lips pressed in a line. Not a word left his mouth.
Yet in that silence, something spoke louder than any words could.
And just like that, the moment between them deepened, quiet, unexpected and real.
The engine hummed gently as the church bus rolled along the road, winding its way through tall, whispering woods. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting playful shadows on the windows. Laughter, chatter, and songs echoed inside, filling the space with youthful joy.
Some were singing along to a worship song playing from a speaker, clapping in rhythm. Others were dozing with their heads resting on a friend's shoulders or chatting about the games they would play once they arrived. The mood was light and buzzing with anticipation.
In the middle row, Lynette sat beside her younger cousin, Cressa, who was giggling over something they whispered back and forth. Lynette's laugh was soft and light, the kind that made people around her smile without even knowing why.
As the bus curved gently around a bend, Lynette turned toward the window. She leaned her elbow on the window ledge, resting her cheek against her hand as the cool breeze slipped in. The trees outside danced slightly with the wind, bathed in the soft gold of mid-morning sun.
Her long hair fluttered around her shoulders, catching the light. For a moment, everything felt still, like time paused just for her.
She smiled, warm and genuine. A smile full of peace.
From the very back of the bus, Rowan sat with one arm crossed over his chest, his other hand resting against his cheek. His gaze hadn't left her for the whole time.
There was something about the way she smiled now. Something different from the Lynette he thought he knew.
It wasn't loud or attention-seeking.
It was calm. Sincere.
It was like watching someone who had found the beauty in the little things again.
He didn't even realize how long he had been watching until his friend nudged him.
"You good?" the friend asked with a smirk.
Rowan blinked. "Yeah. I'm good."
Finally, the bus slowed and came to a gentle halt, tires crunching over gravel as they reached the retreat grounds. Excitement sparked again as everyone stood, grabbing bags and stretching limbs.
Lynette rose from her seat, carefully balancing as she reached for her bag in the overhead compartment.
Just as her fingers grazed the strap, a tall figure moved beside her.
Rowan.
Without a word, he reached up and effortlessly took the bag down for her.
Lynette blinked in surprise. "Oh… thank y—"
But before she could finish, Rowan had already slung both his and her bag over his shoulder. Without meeting her eyes, he muttered, "I'll put your bag inside. Don't fall again," and walked off the bus.
Lynette stood there, caught between surprise and amusement, her mouth still half-open.
Cressa nudged her from behind. "Was that Rowan? He just carried your bag. Oh my gosh."
Lynette blinked again, lips tugging upward as she shook her head and followed everyone else off the bus.
Rowan didn't look back even once. But the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
As Lynette stepped off the bus, her eyes widened in wonder.
The retreat field stretched far and wide under the gentle afternoon sun. Scattered wooden cottages dotted the landscape, some small and cozy, others mid-sized, but one stood tall in the center like a heart anchoring the rest. Surrounding them, golden dandelions blanketed the field like sunbursts against the lush green, swaying in the light breeze. In the distance, a clear river shimmered as it flowed along the edge of the retreat and made its way toward the nearby village.
It was breathtaking, like something out of a dream.
Lynette turned slowly in wonder, soaking it all in until a loud voice pierced the air.
"Everyone, gather around!" Aron called from amidst the group.
People hurried to form a semicircle around him. Lynette joined them as Aron explained,
"We'll have some light food soon. Youths from other churches are on their way. Once they arrive, we'll all help clean the area. Everyone will be assigned a task,
got it?"
There were nods and murmurs of agreement.
The group quickly split into their roles, some went to fetch water from the river, others picked up scattered trash or began planting flowers. A few went into the kitchen to help prepare dinner.
Lynette, Rowan, and a few others were assigned to cooking duty. Ella, the older youth group member known for her bossy efficiency, was in charge. Lynette fell into pace beside Rowan, carrying bags of rice into the kitchen one by one.
Each time their eyes met, brief glances were exchanged without words, and Rowan's composure wavered. His cheeks grew warmer each time, and soon the tips of his ears glowed red.
From a corner of the courtyard, Mysha stood near a water drum, her hands tight around a cup as she sipped. Her gaze locked on Rowan and Lynette, and her breath caught, then came out sharp and heavy with frustration. She turned away quickly, the plastic cup crumpling slightly in her grip.
Afternoon slid into early evening. Everyone had just finished prepping the food when Ella's phone rang. She stepped outside to take the call, her tone changing from calm to anxious.
When she returned, her face was grim.
"The other bus broke down, nowhere near help. I'm going with the caretaker to assist them," she said. "Aron, you're in charge until we're back. Handle dinner, keep everything in order."
Aron saluted playfully. "Got it."
As everyone resumed their duties, Aron turned to Lynette and said with a teasing smile, "Make sure the back kitchen door is always closed, alright? Behind it are goats and sheep. If they get in… no dinner."
Lynette chuckled. "I'll guard it with my life."
Unknown to her, Mysha stood quietly in the corner again, her water cup forgotten. She'd heard every word, and her lips slowly curled into a knowing smile.
Dinner prep continued, cheerful and light. After the last pot was placed and the final dish wrapped, Aron gave the go-ahead for everyone to take a short break. Lynette checked the back door one last time, tugged it shut, double-checked the latch, and finally joined the others outside.
They sat under the dimming sky, laughter soft, voices gentle. Some sat on blankets, others leaned against trees. The breeze whispered through the dandelions, and the sky slowly blushed into dusk.
Then Aron's phone rang again.
It was Ella.
He stepped aside to answer. "What? That bad?"
He returned to the group, sighing deeply.
"They're going to be late. She said to just cook for ourselves, they might not make it before nightfall."
Disheartened, Aron dragged himself into the kitchen for some water… only to freeze at the doorway.
A second later, his voice thundered out:
"LYNETTE!!!"
The name echoed like a crack of thunder across the field.
Everyone jumped up. Rowan bolted upright and ran, others trailing behind. They rushed into the kitchen and gasped.
The back door swung wide open.
Inside, chaos all over.
Goats and sheep had barged in, trampling through the kitchen. Bags of flour ripped open, rice scattered across the floor, vegetables half-eaten, some stewing pots tipped over. It was a disaster.
Aron stood stunned in the middle of the mess, hands to his head. "No… no, no, no."
Lynette pushed through the crowd, frozen in disbelief. "I… I locked it. I swear, I closed it."
But the damage was done.
From the edge of the hallway, hidden behind a wall, Mysha peeked out. She watched the chaos unfold, arms folded tightly across her chest, and for a moment, a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.