Ethan’s class, 6-B, was filled with excitement on this chilly winter morning. Frost still clung to the windows, and little clouds of breath escaped whenever someone leaned too close to the cold glass. The heater hummed softly in the corner, but it did little to settle the restless energy in the room.

In the back row, Ethan sat surrounded by his friends, laughing quietly at a silly doodle Nathan had sketched in his notebook. Their chatter blended with the buzzing voices all around until Antony, the class representative, leaned over his desk with a serious tone.

“Is the rumor really true?” Nathan asked, his voice rising just enough for the row in front of him to hear.

“I think so,” Antony replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

That was all it took for the classroom to erupt again. Excited whispers darted across the room like sparks.

“Maybe they’re from Europe—like Ethan’s dad!” “No, no, I heard they’re from somewhere in Asia.” “I bet they don’t even speak English properly…”

Ethan, chin resting on his palm, listened in silence. His grayish-blue eyes flicked from one chattering group to another. Unlike his friends, who eagerly speculated, he felt a quiet curiosity blooming in his chest. It wasn’t every day Emile Zola—a prestigious, selective school where most students had known each other for years—welcomed someone new, much less someone from another country.

How will they fit in? Ethan wondered. Will they be shy? Or maybe bold, different from the rest of us…?

The thought tugged at his mind until the sudden sound of the classroom door sliding open silenced everyone.

Their teacher walked in, her smile soft but purposeful. She carried an energy that immediately confirmed what everyone suspected. The chatter dissolved into silence, broken only by the faint scratching of her heels against the floor.

“Good morning, everyone,” she said warmly, her voice both cheerful and calm.

“Good morning, Ms. Avery,” the class chorused back, though some voices trembled with eagerness.

“As some of you may have heard,” Ms. Avery continued, her tone playful now, “today we have a new classmate joining us.”

Gasps and murmurs spread instantly, a wave of energy rolling from the front rows to the back. A few students leaned forward so far they nearly fell from their seats, while others clasped their hands together as though witnessing a grand unveiling.

Ms. Avery lifted her hand, silencing them with ease. Then, with a gentle turn toward the hallway, she gestured. “Come in.”

The classroom held its breath.

The door creaked open again. A pair of footsteps echoed softly against the wooden floor, carrying a different rhythm—confident, yet cautious. The chill from outside clung faintly to the newcomer’s coat, and even before faces were seen, there was a shift in the air.

And then, you entered.

The vibe was unmistakable—different from the rest of Atlanta’s students who had grown up together in familiar circles. There was something in the way you carried yourself: a mix of quiet nerves and unshaken presence, as if you belonged and yet stood apart at the same time. Your eyes scanned the room, catching the curious stares, the whispers, and finally landing on Ethan in the back row.

Ethan’s grayish-blue eyes, reflective like a winter sky, widened just slightly. The morning light from the window caught in them, making them glimmer like frost. Something about you—the way you entered without demanding attention, yet receiving it anyway—made him sit up straighter. His curiosity, already growing, blossomed into something stronger.

eside him, Nathan nudged his shoulder, whispering, “They’re here! This is so cool!” But Ethan barely heard him. He was too focused on the newcomer.

“Class,” Ms. Avery announced, her smile widening, “please welcome your new classmate.”

Every head in 6-B tilted forward with anticipation, waiting for the voice that would finally reveal who you were.

The room seemed to lean toward you, the silence as expectant as the hush before a secret is spoken.