Chapter 10
Tilly
“I still can’t believe we won!” Yana bursts out laughing, her voice carrying over the low rumble of the plane.
We are about fifteen minutes from landing, and even though the tournament has ended over twelve hours ago, the buzz hasn’t worn off.
It has been close, nail-biting close, but a win is a win. And this one feels huge.
Wins over the board always feel better than home wins.
I know I sound evil for saying that, but travel has always been close to my heart.
“I know!” I grin and lean into Yana for a side hug, both of us smiling as our cheeks might crack.
“I mean—” Zara starts, but Yana immediately raises a hand.
“Zeze, you know we love you, but no negative vibes about our game for at least a month. Thank you.”
Zara rolls her eyes, trying not to smile. “Fine. We played… well.”
“Oh, come on.” I laugh. “That’s such a fake answer. We were epic.”
“Ok, yeah, we totally ruled at that competition.” Zara finally gives in with a little grin. “Any guesses what the boys are doing right now?”
“They’re either gaming or sleeping,” I say, picturing them sprawled out in their hotel room — controllers in hand or faces buried in pillows.
Volleyball drains you until your whole body just begs for sleep, and we all learned to give in when we could.
Of course, when your mind lets you.
The boys have flown out a week later than we and wouldn’t be back for another week, but for now, it doesn’t matter.
The captain’s voice cracks over the speaker, announcing our descent, and I feel the plane tilt toward home.
That familiar jolt of adrenaline comes as the wheels reach for the runway — that short, breath-stealing rush that makes your stomach flip.
I always love that part.
When you feel your whole body vibrating, and you don’t know whether it’s excitement or the plane.
Sometimes I wish I could feel that thrill whenever I want, instead of waiting for rare moments like this.
The way it lights up your chest and makes everything seem possible for one second is an addictive feeling.
“Dear passengers, welcome to Queensland!” the captain’s voice cracks through the speakers.
We’re home.
***
“And now just turn right.” I lean forward, guiding the taxi driver until he parks in front of our block.
“Thank you so much,” Zara says with her sweetest smile.
“Do you need help with the bags?” he asks.
“No, thank you, but that’s kind of you.” I smile back, and we haul our bags out onto the curb as the taxi pulls away.
We totally needed help, but we’re not the type to ask for it.
“And here I thought chivalry was dead,” Yana mutters, brushing hair off her face.
Zara and I laugh, still a little giddy from the win and the trip.
They walk ahead of me, keys jingling, and I hear the lock click. But then they freeze.
“Uh, hello?” I grumble, shifting the heavy bag, digging into my shoulders. “Not sure if you noticed, but I’m carrying a mountain here—” I stop mid-sentence when they both move aside, slowly, like they’re unveiling a secret.
The apartment isn’t the apartment anymore.
It’s a sea of pastel sticky notes, plastered on every surface.
My heart lurches as I step inside, peeling one from the wall.
One side has my name written, the other a sentence.
You don’t have to be perfect all the time for me to be proud of you.
I take another one.
When you say you’re ‘fine,’ I know you’re not. You don’t have to hide that from me.
My chest aches. My throat tightens, and I want to laugh and cry at the same time.
“Omg,” I whisper.
Behind me, Yana reads one out loud, her voice softening. “That is actually the sweetest thing ever, Tilly-Bean.”
The apartment is filled with notes with Luca’s handwriting.
Some notes have pictures, some have my favorite book quotes. Some are just his messages.
“I feel like I’m missing a piece here,” Zara says, tilting her head.
“I’ll explain,” Yana says. “Tilly, I think you’ve got a phone call to make.”
I walk to my room and close the door behind me as I shakily call Luca.
It does take three tries to press the call icon, but once I hit it, I set the phone down and start pacing my room.
He picks up right away.
“The handwriting gave you away,” I manage to whisper, tears slipping down my face.
“Hey T.” Luca’s voice comes through the line, and I can hear the smile in it. “How was your flight?”
“Fine,” I breathe.
“I heard you won.”
“We did.”
“I knew you would.” His voice softens.
“How are you?” I ask shakily, avoiding whatever just happened.
“I’m slightly tired, very stressed,” he admits, then pauses. “But mostly proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, looking at the notes I read. “What’s the occasion?”
“I don’t need an occasion to make you feel special,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Sometimes you forget how much you are, T, and I won’t ever let you forget again.”
I press my lips together, trying to answer, but my throat is too tight.
My heart is too full.
He chuckles softly at the silence. “Eat something, then sleep. Call me when you wake up, okay?”
I have no idea what just happened, and that’s an understatement.
Luca, your best friend, just wrote you thousands of notes because he noticed my insecurity and made sureit wass a surprise.
Nope, still don’t understand.
“I miss you, Luca,” I whisper.
“I miss you too, Tilly.”
“Luca?” I ask quickly, before he can hang up.
“Yeah?”
“How long did it take you? To put up all of these?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Doesn’t matter. You deserve every second.”