The discussion room on the second floor of the school library felt more cramped than usual that afternoon. Isabella arrived fifteen minutes early, as she did whenever there was a group meeting, carrying a blue binder filled with the proposal outline she'd prepared overnight.
She neatly arranged her papers on the table, organizing the discussion in what she considered the most efficient order: task assignments, the work timeline, and then the division of report chapters. She'd thought everything through carefully, complete with backup plans in case any group member was slow to finish their part.
The other group members arrived one by one—Reno, Dita, and Fikri—each carrying a laptop and looking slightly nervous because they knew this project would have a major impact on their final-semester grade. The last to arrive, of course, was Christian, five minutes late with a cup of coffee in hand and a relaxed expression, as if time weren't something worth worrying about.
“Sorry I'm late,” he said as he sat in the empty chair directly across from Isabella. “The coffee line was ridiculously long.”
“We agreed the meeting would start at four,” Isabella said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.
“And it's four-oh-five,” Christian replied casually. “Not that far off, right?”
Reno and Dita exchanged glances, clearly sensing the tension that had begun to build from the very first second. Fikri busied himself opening his laptop, pretending not to notice.
Isabella took a breath, deciding not to prolong the minor argument. “Okay, let's get started. I've prepared the task assignments—”
“Hold on,” Christian interrupted, raising a hand. “Before we discuss the assignments, I think we need to decide on the project topic first. I heard from the professors' group chat that the topic is pretty open this year.”
“I've already chosen the topic,” Isabella replied, showing him the first page of her blue binder. “An analysis of local small-business expansion strategies. I've already done some preliminary research, and there’s plenty of data.”
Christian skimmed the page she'd handed him, then slowly nodded, though he wasn't entirely convinced. “It's a good topic, but I think it's too broad. Most groups will probably choose something similar because the data is easy to find. If we want the highest grade, we need something more specific, maybe a little bolder.”
“What do you mean?”
“What if we focus on one specific small business that's struggling to survive, then create a real case study with strategic recommendations they can actually use? Not just a theoretical analysis on paper.”
Reno nodded in agreement, his eyes lighting up. “That sounds more interesting, Bel. It could earn us bonus points too if the professor likes practical approaches.”
Isabella felt something tighten in her chest. Not because Christian's idea was bad—in fact, it was pretty good, even better than her own plan. But admitting that in front of everyone felt like admitting defeat again, for the second time in one week.
“The research will be more complicated,” Isabella said, trying to find a flaw. “We only have six weeks.”
“That's why we need to start now,” Christian replied with a faint smile, as if he knew exactly what Isabella was thinking. “I know the owner of a small craft shop near my boarding house who's having trouble competing with online stores. It could be the subject of our case study.”
Dita and Fikri immediately agreed, clearly excited by an idea that felt more alive than Isabella's initial plan, which they saw as safe but not very challenging.
Isabella stared at the outline she'd spent all night preparing, feeling a little disappointed that she'd have to throw it away, but she also couldn't deny that Christian's idea was stronger.
“All right,” she said at last, trying to sound professional despite the irritation that lingered. “We'll go with Christian's idea. But we still need clear task assignments.”
“Agreed,” Christian said with a nod. “You handle the assignments. I'll take care of contacting the shop owner.”
For a moment, Isabella said nothing, somewhat surprised that Christian had so readily handed control of the task assignments to her, even though he'd seemed so confident about taking over the project's direction earlier.
The meeting lasted an hour and a half, punctuated by several minor arguments between Isabella and Christian over the data-collection method, the report format, and even who would serve as their spokesperson during the presentation. Strangely enough, though, in between those arguments, the two of them always managed to find common ground, making the other group members even more confident that their project would go well.
When the meeting ended and the others began packing up, Christian approached Isabella, who was still arranging her papers inside the blue binder.
“You're really serious about plans, huh?” he said, not mockingly, but more as a casual observation.
“I like everything to be clear from the start,” Isabella replied without looking up. “So nothing falls apart halfway through.”
“Sometimes the things that fall apart are what lead to something better,” Christian said, hoisting his backpack onto one shoulder. “But I appreciate how prepared you are. Seriously.”
Isabella looked up, slightly surprised by the sincerity in his last sentence. It was completely different from the teasing tone she'd usually heard from Christian since the first day they met.
“Thank you,” she said softly, unsure what else to say.
“See you tomorrow, team leader,” Christian said as he walked out of the room, waving without looking back.
Isabella stood still for a moment, staring at the door that had just closed, trying to understand the strange feeling rising in her chest. The meeting that day had been far from perfect, full of arguments. Her own plan had to be completely changed, and her ego was a little bruised from having to admit that someone else's idea was better.
But for some reason, as she walked home that afternoon, she couldn't stop thinking about the way Christian had smiled when he said he appreciated her preparation. It was something small and simple, yet somehow it felt more significant than all the midterm-exam grades that had been frustrating her over the past week.
When she got back to her boarding house, Isabella immediately sprawled across the bed without even changing clothes, something she rarely did. Usually, she'd sit straight down at her desk, reorganize the day's notes, and make sure everything was neat before going to sleep. But that night, her mind was too full to focus on anything.
She took out her phone, opened the project notes she'd just created, and rewrote the task assignments according to what they'd agreed on in the meeting. She wrote her own name next to data analysis and the preparation of the final report, while Christian's went next to interviews and field data collection.
Seeing the two names side by side on the same list—not as two people competing for the top spot, but as two people who had to work together to complete something—made her stomach feel strange again, a mixture of nerves and something she didn't want to name too quickly.
“This is just a project partnership,” she whispered to herself as she turned off her phone's screen and closed her eyes. “Nothing more.”
But the image of Christian's smile that afternoon kept appearing in her mind until, eventually, she fell asleep without ever realizing when her thoughts finally stopped fighting.