The birdsong that woke Ariana at 8 AM felt like a cruel mockery. As consciousness returned, so did the memory of the red-haired girl and Kian's easy laugh, draping her morning in a gray melancholy.
In the cafeteria, she mechanically prepared a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Before eating, she sent a message to Kian, her fingers stiff. Good luck on your exam. The words felt like a performance, a desperate attempt to maintain normalcy. She clung to her routine, burying herself in her notes for Macroeconomics and Banking Concepts, using the dense material as a shield against her thoughts.
Seeking solace, she claimed a table by the window in the study area. Outside, leaves fell from the great trees in a silent, golden cascade. It was beautiful, but today it felt like a metaphor for something ending.
After three hours, her mind was full and her heart was heavy. She retreated to her sanctuary"the garden pond"only to find it occupied. Her breath hitched. On the wooden bench sat the girl, her short red hair a vibrant flag in the muted afternoon light.
Summoning a courage she didn't feel, Ariana sat on the far end of the bench. She studied the girl;Jane. She was ethereal, almost unnaturally so, with porcelain skin and sharp green eyes, dressed in a delicate, pale yellow babydoll dress and those same assertive high heels. A knot tightened in Ariana's stomach. 👠
"What is your name?" Ariana asked, breaking the silence.
The girl—Jane—looked up from her phone. "I'm Jane. Are you from this college?"
"No, I'm here to meet my boyfriend," she replied.
The words were a physical blow. Ariana pressed on, her voice barely steady. "What department does your boyfriend study in? If he's in the business faculty, I can help you."
"Thanks, but I don't need help. He said he has an exam today, he'll come after it's over, and he's studying architecture," Jane said. 😑
The world seemed to narrow. Architecture. The knot in Ariana's stomach turned to ice. "What's your boyfriend's name and what does he look like?" she forced herself to ask.
"His name is K," Jane said casually. "He's about 6 feet tall, blue eyes, and has blonde hair. Do you recognize someone like that?"
The air rushed from Ariana's lungs. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. K. The description was entirely wrong. The relief was so potent it left her dizzy.
The sun was dipping low, staining the sky. "No," Ariana managed, a genuine, if shaky, smile touching her lips for the first time that day. "I don't know anyone like that." She said a quick goodbye, her step lighter as she walked back to the dormitory, the phantom poison in her mind finally beginning to clear. 🙂