Bulle and Izsa: A Thousand Tiny Moments

Scenes 5 frames

The story as narrated

Nobody tells you that five days can completely rewrite your life. They just let it happen. If you asked me what I thought about Lovisa on the first day, I would have shrugged and said she is normal. No butterflies. No romantic movie soundtrack. Just another girl in the classroom. But I remember that first day way more clearly now than I did when it happened. If you saw me, a Black teenage guy with light-brown skin, black braids, and brown eyes, you probably wouldn't think I am the type to freeze up. But it was awkward. Like, painfully awkward. We would accidentally make eye contact, instantly look away, and pretend we weren't just looking at each other. Every time our eyes met, it felt like both of us pressed the emergency exit button in our brains. If we ended up by the lockers, we would suddenly become extremely interested in the floor, our shoes, literally anything except looking at each other. It was that weird silence where you know someone notices you, you notice them too, but neither has enough courage to break it. Then something happened that still feels fake. We got placed in the exact same seats, right next to each other. At the time it didn't mean anything. But now it feels like the first scene of a movie. Our first conversation wasn't even some unforgettable moment. It was small. Just a few casual words and a tiny laugh. Then, the next day, another conversation. Somehow, all those awkward glances completely disappeared without us realizing it. Fast forward five days later. We were together every single break, walking down every hallway side by side. Every lesson somehow ended with us finding each other. Looking back, that is the craziest part. The girl I originally thought was just normal had somehow become the very first person who genuinely made me excited to wake up for school. The weirdest thing wasn't even us becoming friends. It was how fast she became comfortable around me. She had known people at this school since the first grade, people she had grown up with, but somehow she would rather walk with me. At first I legitimately thought I was just imagining things. Then I slowly realized the pattern. Every break, she would somehow end up right beside me. It completely stopped feeling like a coincidence. People started noticing. My friends would look at us, smirk, and go, ooooo. Normally that would have made me want to disappear into another dimension. But not this time. Because every time people joked about us, she didn't suddenly run away. She would stay right beside me, change the subject, and keep talking like none of it mattered. Seeing how calm she was made me feel less nervous too. Then came the nickname. Bulle. It wasn't the word itself, but the entire delivery. She would look at me, with her long blonde hair and those lighter pieces in the front, she would smile first, and then quietly say, Bulle. Like it was somehow totally different from saying my actual name. Every time she did it, my brain disconnected. On the outside, I would answer casually. On the inside, Critical Error. One day I finally asked, didn't you just call me Bulle? She laughed and said she was saying it too much and got confused. Later, she sent me a text. Two tiny heart emojis. Tell me why two tiny heart emojis somehow became one of my absolute favorite messages ever. I couldn't let her win the nickname battle, so Lovisa quickly became Izsa. It just fit perfectly. Now our conversations sounded completely different. Bulle. Izsa. We barely even used real names anymore. There is one thing I will probably never stop noticing. Her eyes. People say blue eyes are pretty. But her eyes are this ridiculously light, icy-blue color that almost looks edited. The kind that makes you accidentally forget what you are saying halfway through a sentence. Sometimes she would just stare. Not in a creepy way. Just look long enough that I would completely lose my train of thought. I even found a picture online once of someone with the exact same eye color and thought, bro, that is literally her. It is embarrassing how many tiny details I notice now. The way she smiles before saying my nickname. The way her eyes somehow became my favorite color. The thing nobody else sees is that this wasn't my first crush. Third grade still lives in my head. I confessed to another girl once. She looked at me in front of everyone and said, Eww. Then she told the whole class. For three years I walked into school pretending everything was fine. So when people easily say, just confess, they really don't know what that feels like. Every confession after that comes with that memory attached. That is why I kept waiting. Not because I didn't like Izsa enough. Because I finally liked someone enough that I didn't want to ruin it. Then something happened that scared me. She started acting louder around me, doing over-the-top stuff. My friends started whispering. They said she was acting like a pick me. I knew how fast rumors spread. I didn't want people laughing at her behind her back. So I texted her. Honestly, pressing send felt scarier than confessing. She replied almost immediately. Who? I expected everything to explode. Instead, she typed, you are the best for telling me. Then she filled the chat with hearts. She trusted me enough to appreciate my honesty instead of getting angry. After that, I trusted her even more. Then I accidentally almost confessed. There is this old trick. You ask, if I told you something, would you tell anyone? She answered instantly. No. For one second, everything stopped. The words were right there. Then my survival instincts took over. Never mind. Bro. I rage-quit my own confession. Then she disappeared for an entire week. At first my brain started making up wild theories. Then she told me. Fever. She was sick. The important part wasn't that she stayed home. The important part was that she kept talking to me. She kept updating me. Even from home, we still found each other through our phones. Then came the funniest moment in the entire story. She sent me a video. If you watch this, you have to buy me McDonald's. Without thinking, I replied, Yes. Most people think that is just buying food. Wrong. That is an excuse to hang out that doesn't sound terrifying. Then she made it even better. I will tell you when to go. If you know her, that usually means two or three days. Bro. The McDonald's Arc is literally loading. Sometimes I wonder if I am obsessed. Then I remember I notice things like the first awkward eye contact. The first conversation. The first Bulle. The first hearts. The first nickname. The first time she trusted me. The first time I realized I actually wanted Monday to come faster. A few weeks ago, school was somewhere I had to survive. Now it is somewhere I actually want to be. Because somewhere in those hallways is a girl with impossible blue eyes who somehow turned normal into the best part of my day. Every time I hear, Bulle, my heart still forgets how to act. Maybe that is what falling in love actually feels like. Not one giant movie moment. Just a thousand tiny moments that slowly become one unforgettable story. And honestly, I don't think we are anywhere near the ending yet.

Recipe