The cold night wind blew across the Prinston campus, carrying the scent of rain that still lingered in the air from the afternoon. Kara never stayed this late at the library, but that pile of Gothic Literature notes seemed like the perfect pretext to wait.
Every few minutes, her gaze drifted from the pages to the large window overlooking the inner garden. Alice was out there again, alone, as if she were part of the landscape —her red coat contrasting sharply with the surrounding darkness.
Natalie had already left half an hour ago, shooting Kara one last "you're insane" look before disappearing down the hall.
Kara closed her notebook, took a deep breath, and headed out into the garden.
The sound of her own footsteps on the gravel echoed louder than she would have liked.
Alice didn't turn around, not even when Kara stopped just a few feet away from her.
"Are you always out here at night?" Kara asked, trying not to sound nervous.
Alice remained silent for a few seconds, then spoke without looking at her.
"The night is more... peaceful."
"It is," Kara agreed, sitting on the adjacent bench, leaving a careful space between them.
"But it's also lonelier."
Alice let out a low laugh, devoid of humor.
"I get along fine with loneliness."
Kara watched her profile in the faint light of the garden lamps. It was as if Alice's skin reflected a soft, cold glow, and her eyes... they didn't just look dark, they looked deep, as if they held centuries.
"Even so..." Kara hesitated,
"it doesn't hurt to talk a little."
Alice finally turned her face toward her. The look she gave her was so intense it made Kara hold her breath for an instant.
"Why do you insist?" Alice asked, her tone more curious than irritated.
"Because..." Kara swallowed hard,
"...you intrigue me. It's not just that you keep to yourself, it's... I don't know, it feels like you're carrying a weight no one else sees. And I couldn't stand seeing you alone. I sort of felt obligated to reach out to the new student, make you feel welcome. I've been in that position before, and trust me, it wasn't fun at all."
Alice raised an eyebrow, as if the words had touched something sensitive.
"And you think you can handle that weight?"
"I don't know," Kara smiled faintly. "But I won't find out if you don't let me."
Silence fell again, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. Kara noticed something strange: she couldn't hear the sound of Alice's breathing. Not even a sigh. And when the wind blew, her hair moved, but her body remained completely still, like a living statue.
"Kara..." Alice said, her voice almost a whisper,
"...you shouldn't trust people so easily."
"I don't trust everyone," Kara replied.
"Just the ones I think are worth it."
Alice looked away, but Kara could have sworn she saw a faint blush on those pale cheeks, as if the comment had flustered her.
"You're stubborn," Alice said, a half-smile appearing and vanishing far too quickly.
"So I'm told."
Alice sighed, this time audibly, and relaxed her shoulders slightly.
"Alright... we can talk. But just for tonight."
"Just for tonight?" Kara raised an eyebrow.
"I don't make promises about tomorrow."
The conversation stretched on for nearly an hour. They didn't talk about anything deep —books, music, the autumn weather. But Kara noticed that with every answer, Alice chose her words with extreme care, like someone afraid of revealing too much.
When the clock tower struck eleven, Alice stood up.
"It's late. You should go to your dorm."
"What about you?"
"I... have my own ways."
Kara watched her as she walked away, until the red figure was lost in the shadows between the bushes. For a moment, she had the strangest impression that Alice was moving too fast, almost like a blur.
Alone on the bench, Kara felt her heart pounding, and it wasn't just because of the cold.
That night, she was certain of two things:
* Alice was not like anyone she had ever met.
* And she wanted to know why.