The bell rang, echoing through the lecture hall like a hammer striking bronze. Chairs scraped back, voices rose, and the air filled with the usual chaos of dismissal.
But Gems didn't move. She sat frozen in her seat, pen still pressed against her notebook.
Marky. Amos. Au. Ry. And me.
She already knew what this meant: late nights in the library, endless coordination, arguments over sources. Group work was always messy. With this mix? It would be chaos.
"Hey," Marky said softly, tapping her arm. His smile was calm, as if to say, It'll be okay.
She nodded, though she wasn't convinced.
The five of them drifted toward a corner of the room, clustering awkwardly near the windows. Outside, the campus buzzed with students hurrying to their next classes, but inside, the newly formed group took its first hesitant steps.
Amos clapped his hands together dramatically. "Well, well, fellow victims of the academic system, looks like we're stuck with each other."
"Don't say it like that," Au replied, smoothing her blouse. "We might actually do well."
Ry smirked. "If Gems is in the group, of course we will. She's the golden girl of the department, right?"
Gems' eyes narrowed. "Don't start."
"What? It's a compliment." Ry leaned casually against the wall, sunglasses still perched on his head. "We all know you pull grades like magic. No pressure, though."
Marky stepped in before Gems could snap. "Let's just... figure out a starting point. RV said roads. What comes to mind?"
"The Silk Road," Au said instantly. "Trade, fashion, cultural exchange. Honestly, it's perfect."
Ry finally looked up from his phone. "Appian Way. Oldest paved road in Europe. Built by Romans. Lined with tombs. Has a creepy factor professors love."
Amos whistled. "Look at rich boy, actually contributing."
"Shut up," Ry muttered. "I know things too."
"Appian Way," Ry countered. "Roman road, still intact, full of creepy history. Slaves crucified along it. Nice and dark. Professors love dramatic angles."
Amos raised a hand like a student reciting in class. "How about EDSA? Oldest in our hearts. Revolutionary backdrop. And... traffic horror counts, right?"
Au groaned. "Amos, seriously."
He grinned. "Kidding. Mostly."
Gems finally spoke. "Why not combine? Do a comparative study. The Appian Way, the Silk Road, maybe Darb el-Arba'īn-the Forty Days Road in North Africa. Show how the world's oldest roads weren't just infrastructure, but veins of suffering."
The group paused. Even Ry raised an eyebrow.
"Veins of suffering?" Amos repeated, impressed. "Whoa. That's... metal."
Marky nodded slowly. "It could work. Show how roads connect civilizations but also spread violence, slavery, even disease."
Au tilted her head. "It's ambitious. But... it might actually stand out."
Ry smirked. "So the scholar has spoken."
Gems bit her tongue. She hated how he said it-like it was a performance. But she couldn't deny the idea had caught their attention.
"Alright then," Marky said, taking charge. "We've got a theme. Now we just need to divide tasks."
They hashed out early roles-Marky gathering engineering history, Gems focusing on cultural impacts, Au on fashion and art, Amos on oral legends and folklore, Ry on... logistics.
"What does that even mean?" Gems asked skeptically.
Ry shrugged. "It means I'll make sure we don't drown in boring details. Keep things interesting."
"Or you'll do nothing," Gems muttered under her breath.
But Ry just grinned. "You'll thank me later."
---
Later That Afternoon
The group migrated to the canteen, still buzzing from their first meeting.
Amos cracked jokes between bites of siopao, Au showed them a photo of a reconstructed Silk Road costume, Marky already scribbled bullet points in his notebook.
Still they have started nothing on their thesis until....
One Week Later
The library study room reeked of stale coffee. Stacks of photocopied journal articles lay across the table. Gems rubbed her temples, trying to focus on her laptop screen.
Marky had compiled sources on Roman engineering. Amos was doodling a cartoon camel in the margins of his notes. Au scrolled on her phone, claiming she was "researching fashion history along the Silk Road." Ry, surprisingly, had found several digitized maps.
It was going better than Gems had feared. Until Amos leaned back in his chair.
"We're missing something. This thesis is gonna be... what's the word... flat. Just dates, stones, skeletons."
"That's literally history," Gems muttered.
"No," Amos insisted. "History breathes when it's personal. RV keeps hammering that in. Memory. Experience. So how do we make this personal?"
Silence. Then Ry smirked.
Ry, on the other hand, leaned back with his soda, scanning each of them like a gambler sizing up opponents.
"So, seriously," he said. "What if we actually went there?"
Four heads turned.
What?" Gems asked.
"We visit," Ry said casually. "We actually set foot on those roads. Walk the Appian Way. See the desert caravan bones. Take photos, record our impressions. Boom-original thesis."
"Are you insane?" Gems said. "That's not just expensive, it's dangerous. Those places aren't all tourist-friendly."
"Went where?" Au asked, confused.
"To those roads," Ry said, his voice casual but his eyes sharp. "Imagine it. Walking the Appian Way ourselves. Standing on the Silk Road ruins. Taking photos. Recording impressions. Not just quoting books-living it."
Amos' eyes lit up. "Wait, wait-you mean, like, a history field trip but abroad? That'd insane and awesome... Dude, that's crazy. I'm in."
Au leaned forward. "Me too. Imagine the content. Actual photos of us on the oldest roads? Viral."
Marky hesitated. "It would definitely impress RV... but it's not that simple. Flights, visas, expenses-"
"I'll pay," Ry cut in. "For all of us. Don't worry about money."
The table went quiet.
Gems stiffened. "That's not a joke you should make."
"Who's joking?" Ry leaned forward. "My dad spends more in a weekend than this trip would cost. If it makes our thesis stand out, I'll cover it. Think about it: how many groups will have firsthand accounts of the world's oldest roads?"
Amos was already hyped. "And the stories! Dude, I could say I peed on the Silk Road. Instant legend."
Marky looked torn. "It would be original..."
Only Gems stayed unmoved. She crossed her arms tightly. "It's reckless. Dangerous, even. History is in books for a reason. We don't need to chase ghosts to understand them."
Ry's grin widened. "So you're scared."
Her glare could have cut stone. "It's called being realistic."
"Realistic or afraid?" Ry teased. "Come on, Gemma. Don't you ever wonder what it's like? To stand where thousands of feet once marched, where blood actually soaked the ground?"
Marky gently put a hand on her shoulder. "He has a point. Experiencing it firsthand could give our thesis more weight. But..." He looked at her with quiet concern. "You don't have to decide now."
Gems bit her lip, her thoughts storming. She could feel the group's excitement rising like a tide, sweeping her resistance away. And Ry-smug, infuriating Ry-was watching her like he'd already won.
She looked down at her notebook, where she had scribbled earlier: Roads are veins. They carry memory.
And for the first time, the words made her shiver.
---
Evening - Gems' Room
Back home, Gems sat by the small desk in her bedroom, the hum of the electric fan filling the silence. Her laptop glowed with open tabs about Roman roads, trade caravans, desert skeletons.
But she wasn't reading.
Instead, her thoughts replayed the conversation, Ry's smirk, the gleam in everyone's eyes.
She wanted to say no. To hold the line. But part of her-some buried, restless part-whispered that maybe Ry was right. Maybe books weren't enough.
She shut her laptop and whispered aloud, almost to herself:
"Roads don't forget."
For the first time, she wondered what would happen if she walked one herself.
Her pen hovered over her notes. She wrote slowly: The road remembers. And maybe... it waits.