Tia arrived at the lecture hall so early that the silence felt heavy. As she stepped inside, she realized with a start that she was the only one there. A quick check of her phone confirmed her blunder: she was two full hours early.
"What?!" Her voice cracked the stillness of the room. "This is unbelievable. Why did I wake up so early?"
She slumped into her usual seat, dropping her bag on the neighboring chair. To kill time, she pulled out her assignment, obsessively checking for errors and rehearsing her arguments. By the time she finished, she felt a rare surge of confidence. Her work was flawless.
She checked the time again, expecting at least an hour to have passed. Her jaw dropped. Only twenty minutes had ticked by.
"Time, please... just move already," she groaned, burying her face in her arms. She had no desire to trek back to the hostel, so she resigned herself to the agonizing wait.
*****
"Michael, aren't you going to school today?" Karen's voice, punctuated by a sharp knock, dragged Michael from a deep sleep.
He squinted at his alarm clock, relieved to find he wasn't late yet. "Mom, there's still time!" he called out, swinging his legs off the bed. He stretched, a long yawn escaping him, but a lingering exhaustion clung to his bones.
"You told me that yesterday before you skipped breakfast. I won't have a repeat of that today!" Karen's voice muffled as she walked away.
After a half-hearted morning stretch, Michael headed for the bathroom. He paused as a cold thought struck him. The assignment.
"Ugh, I don't have it," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. He quickly pushed the anxiety aside. Tia must have done it, he told himself. She always does. With that delusion firmly in place, he hurried to get ready.
On his way out, he ran into Phoebe, who looked impeccable in her high school uniform.
"Good morning, brother!" she chirped, throwing her arms around him.
"You actually look decent today," Michael teased.
Phoebe's pout was instantaneous. "Duh. I look good every day, not just today."
"Fine, fine. You look good as always." Michael reached out to pat her head, but she ducked away with practiced ease.
"Don't you dare mess up the hair, Michael!"
He laughed and turned to leave, but before he stepped out Karen was already standing behind him, arms crossed. "And where do you think you're going, young man?"
Michael turned slowly. "Um... school?"
Karen stepped closer, fussing with his collar. "Not without breakfast. I won't have you starving in the middle of a lecture."
"Don't worry, Mom. If I get hungry, I'll hit the cafeteria. I promise."
"Fine. But be good," she said, smoothing out his shirt.
Michael rolled his eyes. "You've been telling me that since I was five, Mom. I'm always good." He dashed out the door before she could argue. He wasn't entirely sure if "good" was the right word for him lately, but he certainly wasn't going to confess that to her.
*****
As the classroom finally began to fill, Tia felt the weight of her solitude lift, only to be replaced by something worse.
Two girls whispered as they took their seats a few rows away. They didn't even try to hide their stares. "Hey, look. It's Tia—the girl with the pathetic crush on Michael," one whispered, followed by a sharp giggle.
"Did you hear she actually challenged him yesterday?"
"No way! I can't believe I missed that train wreck."
"I bet she was on her knees begging for his forgiveness five minutes later."
Tia's blood boiled. The humiliation of the previous day was bad enough without the commentary. She slammed her hand onto her desk, the crack echoing like a gunshot. The girls jumped, their heads snapping toward her.
"I can hear you, you know," Tia said as she clenched her fist.
"Uh-oh," one of the girls muttered, quickly averting her gaze.
"And for the record, I didn't beg anyone. I'd really appreciate it if you both shut up and minded your own business."
"We're sorry," one stammered, trying to de-escalate, but the apology felt hollow.
"Save it for someone who cares," Tia snapped, and sank back into her seat.
She was officially done with the day. The room, her clothes, her pen—everything felt like an irritation. She buried her face in her arms on the desk, trying to shut out the world.
"Tia?" A soft tap on her shoulder followed.
Tia didn't need to look up to know it was Stella. She raised her head just enough to rest her chin on her hands. Stella looked radiant today, clearly having put extra effort into her appearance, but Tia couldn't bring herself to offer the usual praise.
"Morning," Tia said, her voice flat.
"How do I look?" Stella twirled, waiting for the compliment that usually came like clockwork.
"Fine."
The short answer hit Stella like a physical blow, though she tried to mask her disappointment with a pout. "You didn't wait for me at our spot again," Stella noted.
"Get used to it, Stella. I won't be doing that anymore."
"What did I even do? You're supposed to be mad at Michael, not me!"
Tia let out a dry, humorless scoff. "You really want to know what you did?"
"Yes! Please, tell me."
The jagged memory of Stella pushing her off the cliff flashed behind Tia's eyes. She couldn't say it; Stella would think she'd lost her mind. She needed a cover story. "I'm mad because... because last year, you didn't even wish me a happy birthday on time."
Stella slapped her forehead. "Tia, that sounds incredibly stupid. I know that's not why you're avoiding me."
"It is. And I don't want to argue about it."
Stella's expression chilled. "We're best friends. We're supposed to resolve things. How would you feel if I started acting like this?"
"That's fine by me. Act however you want."
Stella gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "It's like I don't even know who you are anymore. It hurts, Tia." She waited for a rebuttal, a softening, anything—but Tia only sighed and looked away.
In her distress, a notebook slipped from Stella's hand. As it hit the floor, two separate sheets of paper slid out. Stella scrambled to grab them, but Tia was faster. Her eyes locked onto the pages.
"What's that?" Tia asked.
"Oh, just... my assignment."
"There are two sheets. The professor specifically said one."
Stella gave an awkward, high-pitched giggle. "The second one is just extra notes. You know, I'm trying to be a serious student this semester."
Tia knew a lie when she heard one. She was certain that second sheet was Michael's assignment. A dark, knowing chuckle escaped her, leaving Stella looking confused and cornered.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as Michael walked through the door. A hush fell over the students. A few girls waved, chirping "Hi, Michael," but he gave them nothing more than a curt nod. Stella's heart began to hammer against her ribs as he walked toward their row, but Tia just rolled her eyes and looked at the wall.
Michael didn't look at the crowd. His eyes were locked on Tia from the moment he approached. Stella, desperate for a shred of acknowledgment, forced a smile. "Hi, Michael!"
He spared her a brief, polite smile before his gaze snapped back to Tia. He stood over her desk, his presence filling the space.
"Did you change your mind?" he asked, his voice bold and demanding.