Chap­ter 3 of If These Wings Could Fly opens with Leighton reflect­ing on the end of sum­mer, a sea­son that typ­i­cal­ly brings a sense of free­dom for many, but not for her. While oth­ers embrace the end of the long break, she faces a dif­fer­ent real­i­ty. Return­ing to Auburn High, she finds com­fort in the return to rou­tine and struc­ture, some­thing that pro­vides a sense of nor­mal­cy in her oth­er­wise chaot­ic life. The pre­dictabil­i­ty of school offers her a brief escape from the chal­lenges she faces at home. As Leighton steps off the bus, she feels a shared under­stand­ing with her peers, know­ing that they too are some­what relieved that sum­mer is final­ly over. For many of them, school marks a return to famil­iar rhythms and the end of long, unstruc­tured days.

Leighton soon recon­nects with her best friend, Sofia, in the hall­way, where they exchange enthu­si­as­tic greet­ings. The excite­ment in Sofia’s voice high­lights the week they have spent apart and the lack of com­mu­ni­ca­tion between them. Despite Leighton’s ongo­ing strug­gles at home, which she describes as a “domes­tic night­mare,” Sofia’s upbeat and pos­i­tive ener­gy shines through, pro­vid­ing a brief but wel­come dis­trac­tion from her own real­i­ty. As they move through the crowd­ed halls, nav­i­gat­ing around fresh-faced fresh­men, their ban­ter flows eas­i­ly, rein­forc­ing the strength of their friend­ship. Sofia casu­al­ly men­tions her first class, Phys­i­cal Edu­ca­tion, prompt­ing Leighton to tease her about the usu­al dis­com­forts that come with gym class—specifically, the dread­ed show­ers after­ward and the has­sle of deal­ing with wet hair all day. This light­heart­ed exchange momen­tar­i­ly takes Leighton’s mind off the weight­i­er issues in her life, remind­ing her of the sim­ple joys of high school friend­ship.

As they con­tin­ue chat­ting, the two girls check their sched­ules, and Leighton dis­cov­ers that she has AP Eng­lish as one of her class­es. Sofia makes a jok­ing com­ment about the grim and often dark sub­ject mat­ter they will study in the class, adding a touch of humor to what might oth­er­wise be an over­whelm­ing thought. While the news of their class sched­ules not over­lap­ping is a dis­ap­point­ment, the girls still man­age to find excite­ment in oth­er areas. They begin to plan for the school news­pa­per, eager to write and con­tribute, espe­cial­ly with their shared inter­est in cov­er­ing sports. The thought of col­lab­o­rat­ing on arti­cles gives them some­thing to look for­ward to, and for a moment, it feels as if every­thing is right in the world. This shared enthu­si­asm for their extracur­ric­u­lar activ­i­ties strength­ens their bond, remind­ing Leighton that not all things in her life are com­pli­cat­ed, and there are still moments of joy and con­nec­tion to hold onto.

As the girls move past a large win­dow over­look­ing the soc­cer field, their atten­tion is caught by a bizarre and unset­tling sight. The field is com­plete­ly cov­ered by a large gath­er­ing of crows, their dark shapes near­ly fill­ing the entire space. The sheer num­ber of birds is over­whelm­ing, and the sight is both strik­ing and eerie, as they move in errat­ic, chaot­ic pat­terns across the field. Leighton, who has lived in Auburn for years, is imme­di­ate­ly tak­en aback by this unusu­al occur­rence, rec­og­niz­ing how out of place such a sight is in their small town. Crows, while com­mon in many places, are not usu­al­ly drawn to a school field in this way, and their pres­ence seems almost too delib­er­ate, too omi­nous. Both girls pause, mes­mer­ized by the over­whelm­ing sight before them, their con­ver­sa­tion slow­ing to a halt as they try to make sense of the scene.

Leighton watch­es with a grow­ing sense of unease as the crows con­tin­ue to fly in unpre­dictable for­ma­tions, their black wings cut­ting through the air in a fre­net­ic dance. The more she watch­es, the more unset­tled she becomes, feel­ing a strange con­nec­tion between the chaos of the birds and the dis­ar­ray in her own life. There is some­thing about the sight of the crows that feels sig­nif­i­cant, as if their gath­er­ing might be a sign of some­thing larg­er at play. The birds seem to have no clear direc­tion, and their errat­ic move­ments mir­ror the tur­moil Leighton feels inside. As the crows con­tin­ue to swirl in the sky, Leighton can’t shake the feel­ing that some­thing is draw­ing them to this spot, some­thing beyond mere coin­ci­dence. Both girls stand there in silence, tak­ing in the scene, unable to com­pre­hend its mean­ing but unable to look away either. The sight of so many crows is jar­ring, and it lingers with them long after they move on, mark­ing the begin­ning of a strange and unset­tling atmos­phere that seems to haunt the day.

The unex­pect­ed gath­er­ing of crows sym­bol­izes more than just an eerie visu­al; it marks a turn­ing point in the nar­ra­tive, one that hints at deep­er, more fore­bod­ing events yet to unfold. For Leighton, the sight of the crows stirs up a sense of dread, some­thing that hints at her inter­nal strug­gles and the chal­lenges she will soon face. The birds, with their chaot­ic flight, serve as a metaphor for the unpre­dictable nature of life and the emo­tion­al tur­bu­lence that Leighton is expe­ri­enc­ing. Their over­whelm­ing pres­ence becomes a sym­bol of the forces out­side of her con­trol, forces that will soon con­verge in her life, forc­ing her to con­front both exter­nal and inter­nal con­flicts. This seem­ing­ly small moment encap­su­lates the larg­er themes of the nov­el, hint­ing at the dark cur­rents that will shape the com­ing events.