The campus was more crowded than usual that morning: the course was organizing a field trip over the weekend. The professors explained it would be a practical activity, a visit to a construction site in another city to complement the theoretical classes. Enthusiasm among the students was immediate — laughter, plans about who would share snacks, who would sit with whom on the bus.
For me, it sounded like just another change in the routine I was still trying to get used to. Evelyn, excited, was already talking non-stop about how fun the trip would be. I pretended to follow along, but inside, all I could think about was how it would feel to spend an entire weekend surrounded by so many people… and with the possibility of running into Rafael outside the limits of campus.
When I reached the lobby, I saw him leaning against one of the columns, headphones in his ears. My heart beat strangely. The memory of the coffee at my door and the pain relief patches still burned inside me.But I forced myself to remember that, just days earlier, he had turned his eyes away when I waved. This time, I wasn't going to expose myself again. I straightened my posture, tightened my grip on my backpack, and walked past him as if he were invisible.
That's when I heard:— Good morning.
The voice was low, steady.
I almost stumbled in surprise. I wasn't expecting that. Slowly, I turned my head, and he was looking at me — no smile, just his usual seriousness. I managed a quick "hi," unable to hide my astonishment, and kept walking. The rest of the morning, my mind kept spinning: had I really heard that right?
The following days passed at a strange pace, as if every dragged-out hour pulled me closer to Saturday. The trip would start early in the morning, and we'd only return on Sunday. The university had organized everything: two buses to take the students to the construction site in another city, and lodging arranged at a partner campus nearby. Evelyn couldn't stop talking about it, already planning the photos she wanted to take. I pretended to be excited too, but inside, the expectation left me restless — maybe more because of the thought of being close to Rafael than the trip itself.
Finally, Saturday came. Early in the morning, we all gathered on campus to leave. The ride was noisy: laughter, music playing from cell phones, Evelyn commenting on every detail she saw through the window. I tried to go along.
We arrived late in the morning. The sun was blazing, reflecting off pale concrete and making the heat rise in waves from the ground. Some students complained about the weight of their backpacks, others took excited photos, trying to capture every detail of the trip. The professors gathered everyone in front of the support building of the partner campus to give instructions, but most people seemed more interested in stretching their legs after hours on the bus.
Before heading to the construction site, we were taken to the cafeteria. The smell of hot, simple food was a relief, and soon conversations filled the space again. Evelyn was talking about how she wanted pictures wearing a hard hat, and I pretended to listen, though I was too distracted by the newness in the air.
In the afternoon, under the still-burning sun, we headed to the construction site. We put on safety helmets and listened to instructions from a local engineer. The place smelled of dust and fresh cement, the sounds of heavy machinery blending with the excited voices of the students. It was exhausting, but fascinating at the same time: nothing compared to seeing in practice what had only existed in books and lectures until then. I watched the details of the structures, imagining how everything fit together, as if the pages I'd studied had finally taken shape before my eyes.
When the sun began to set and afternoon turned to evening, the professors released the group to rest. But since no one seemed willing to end the day, we pushed tables together and improvised a gathering in the outdoor space of the dorm. Some students grilled bits of meat over a makeshift grill, and the smell spread across the patio, mixing with loud laughter and music from cell phones.
It was in that moment that it happened.
A classmate, already reeking of alcohol, staggered over with a plastic cup in his hand. He extended it toward me.— Here. Have some.
I shook my head immediately.— No, thank you.
He laughed, a hoarse, mocking sound.— Look at that… the new girl, all proper. You need to loosen up, you know? Just one sip, stop being so uptight. Maybe you'd even be more fun.
Before I could respond, I felt his arm trying to snake around my waist. I pulled away quickly, stomach turning, but he didn't seem to care. On the contrary — he moved closer, thrusting the cup toward me more forcefully.
— Come on, don't play hard to get. It's just a drink. Everyone else is drinking.
My heart pounded. My hands trembled, but before I could react, a firm voice cut through the air:
— She said no.
Rafael was there.
I don't know from where, I don't know how. He was just there. Stepping between us, his eyes hard, his hands clenched.— Back off.
The drunk student laughed mockingly.— Look who it is… the troublemaker prince. You gonna hit me too? Just like that street fight?
The words cut through the air. I could barely breathe. Before any answer could come, he hurled another provocation, this time against me. Filthy, heavy words.
And that's when the punch came. Quick. Direct. Rafael hit him hard enough to knock him to the ground.
In seconds, a crowd formed. Phones were raised, comments buzzed in the air.
— Knew this guy would start trouble.— Always him.— He's the one who put his friend in the hospital…
— His mom died of shame, and look at him now…
The words fell like stones. Evelyn tugged at my arm, asking if I was okay, but I couldn't hear anything beyond the tide of voices condemning Rafael. He was already gone from the circle, leaving behind only the shadow of a villain painted by other people's mouths.
Something burned inside me. Maybe anger, maybe injustice. I breathed deep, and before silence swallowed me, words spilled out:
— You don't know what you're talking about! He didn't start anything. If it weren't for him, that guy would have crossed the line with me. — My voice shook, but I didn't stop. — You talk like you know him, but you don't. You judge based on rumors, without ever really looking.
For a moment, the comments died down. But soon they returned — some mocking, others simply curious. I didn't stay to listen. I pulled free from Evelyn's arm and hurried off, my heart pounding.
It took minutes before I found him. Rafael was off to the side, near the edge of the building, sitting on a concrete bench, his hands resting on his knees. When I approached, he lifted his face — serious, but with a tension that betrayed everything going on inside.
— Thank you — I ventured, my voice softer than I intended. — Seems like saving me is becoming a habit.
He turned his eyes away, tightening his hands as if holding back something heavier than words.— You shouldn't defend me. Maybe they're all right.
My chest tightened. So he had heard. Every word.
I took a step closer, breathing deep.— I don't need anyone to tell me who you are. I can make up my own mind.
He looked at me again, and it felt like the walls he had built around himself were starting to crack, even against his will.
— And what I see in you… is nothing like what they say. — I finished, steady. — I'd rather trust what I feel than believe in rumors.
For an instant, his eyes softened. It was as if Rafael, always so guarded, had let go of his armor. No arrogance, no coldness. Just a heavy silence, full of things he had never told anyone.
And in that moment, I realized there was something between us that no rumor could erase — and from now on, nothing would ever be the same.