Sara drew every eye on campus the way a lit window draws moths at night. Many female
students behaved like a single flock - they shouted jokes, tossed their hair and flirted without
hesitation. Sara refused to join them. She aimed her gaze at the pavement, hurried between
lectures and if a male student smiled she locked up and stared straight past him. The young men
still tried. Several gathered courage, delivered handwritten notes, loitered near her locker. She
rejected each approach so fast that they walked away convinced her veins carried chilled water.
Females in her year noticed the pattern - they studied her the way people study a face that is
more attractive than they care to acknowledge. They curved their mouths into polite greetings
whenever she passed but their eyes stayed narrow and alert. Sara registered the scrutiny. She
never missed it.
Monday afternoon arrived with mild steady sunlight that released the scent of freshly cut lawn
and hinted at open futures. Sara besides Sophie occupied their customary seat behind the faculty
of arts - a bench half concealed - flowering jasmine. Sara had on her preferred white sleeveless
blouse, the one with narrow inverted pleats that gave her the sense of order even when the rest of
her day felt chaotic. Sophie wore a short sleeved maroon dress that swayed in arcs each time she
shifted her weight.
Sophie held an open paperback across her knees but her gaze repeatedly left the pages and settled
on Sara, who sat rigid plus stared past the bench toward the trees as though she waited for the
leaves to pay a debt.
“You okay?” Sophie closed the book and spoke.
Sara blinked but also returned her attention to the bench. “Yeah. Fine”
The answer did not convince Sophie - she slid closer, kept her tone soft and asked a direct
question. “Sara, I’ve known you long enough to tell when your head’s somewhere else. You
don’t date. Like… ever. Boys try, and you act like they’re speaking another language. Why?”
Sara's hands clamped the front edge of the bench - she tugged at a stray thread on her blouse as
well as kept her eyes on her skirt. “It’s not that simple”
Sophie stayed silent - the scent of jasmine hung thick and sweet in the warm air.
“I just… I’m scared” Sara answered at last, her voice so low that the wind nearly carried the
words away. “Of boyfriends. Of letting someone that close. I know it sounds stupid, but every
time I think about it, my stomach twists up”
Sophie's expression relaxed - she stretched out her hand or pressed Sara's fingers once. “Because
of the emotional stuff? The pain?”
Sara gave a single abrupt nod. “I’ve seen what happens. People get hurt. Bad. And I’ve had
enough of that for one lifetime”
Sophie withheld further questions - she remained at Sara's side, shoulder touching shoulder and
allowed the quiet to expand until it felt secure.
“Have you ever thought about talking to someone? Like a counselor? Might help unpack all that”
Sara jerked her head in denial. “Not yet. I don’t want to dig it all up right now. I’ll be okay. I just
need time”
Sophie formed a small, warm smile. “You will be okay. And when the right person comes
along—someone who actually sees you, not just the pretty girl in the white blouse—they’ll be
patient. They’ll wait until you’re ready. You don’t have to rush anything”
Sara exhaled - she had not noticed she held her breath - a faint smile appeared on her lips.
“Thanks, Soph. For not making me feel like a freak”
Sophie drew her into a brief side hug - the scent of vanilla body spray and the sense of friendship
filled the air. “You’re not a freak. You’re careful. There’s a difference. And I’ve got your back,
always”
They remained seated for a minute - sunlight warmed their shoulders - then Sophie gave her a
gentle nudge. “Come on. Let’s pretend to study before we both fail tomorrow’s quiz”
Sara released a quiet laugh - the sound came out rough but genuine. She opened her notebook but
the secret weighed on her chest - she had shared it with no one, not even Sophie. The garden
offered safety for the moment. Fear stayed present, compact and persistent like a cat that refuses
to leave. But for the first time in a long while, the fear no longer felt entirely alone.
