The morning after felt like waking from a fevered dream.
My body still hummed with her—her arms around me, the soft weight of her cheek against my shoulder, the warmth of her pressed into my skin, refusing to let go.

All night, that moment replayed in a loop until I couldn’t tell if it had truly happened… or if it was just my heart’s cruel way of keeping her near.

School itself hadn’t changed—the chatter, the footsteps, the chaos—but I had.
Every laugh of hers, every flicker of her glance was enough to spark a current under my skin that left me aching.

And Sia?
She was herself. Bright. Playful. Untouched by the storm she had left inside me.
If yesterday’s hug had destroyed me, she wore it as casually as sunlight—effortless, natural. Maybe for her, closeness was easy. Maybe hugs and cheek-kisses were just… friendship.

But for me, it had redrawn the edges of my universe.

The professor’s grin sliced through the morning.
“Pairs today,” he announced. “Plant a sapling together. Two people, one fragile life to nurture.”

Groans filled the air. Chairs scraped, friends clung together.

And then—her voice.

“I’ll be Sam’s partner.”

Not a suggestion. A declaration.

The words hit like lightning in my chest.

Riza froze mid-step, her face flickering from shock to hurt to something sharper.
“We always do projects together,” she said tightly. “I’m your best friend.”

Her words stung, even though they weren’t for me. Shame pressed heavy in my chest—I didn’t belong in the space between them.

But Sia’s eyes found mine, steady, grounding.
“Riza,” she said softly, yet firmly, “we always do projects together. Just this once, let me do it with Sam. Please.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any argument.
Riza’s lips tightened before she turned away.

And me?
Caught between joy and dread. Joy because Sia had chosen me. Dread because I’d seen the storm brewing in Riza’s eyes.

Outside, the soil was damp and cool beneath our hands.
She held the sapling like a treasure.

“It’s small,” she murmured, tilting it toward me, “but with care, it’ll grow strong.”

Her fingers brushed mine when she passed it. Barely a second.
Enough to unravel me.

We crouched side by side. Her hand covered mine to guide the roots into the earth, warm, sure, sending heat spiraling up my arm.

“Easy now,” she whispered, close enough that her breath stirred the hair by my ear.
She could have been talking about the plant.
But we both knew she wasn’t.

When it was done, she leaned into me, laughing, her shoulder pressed to mine.
“You look so serious,” she teased. “Relax. It’s just a tree.”

But how could I relax when her warmth bled into me, when her laugh sank straight into my bones?

Then her dirt-smudged fingers swiped across the tip of my nose.
“Got you.”

She darted away, laughing, sunlight tangled in her hair. She glanced back—playful, daring, waiting for me to chase.

I didn’t. I just stood there, drinking in the sight of her joy like it was something forbidden.

Until another gaze cut through the moment.
Riza.
Her eyes burned into me, sharp, accusing.

I froze, shame coiling in my gut.

And then Sia was back. Her hand slipped into mine, tugging me forward. Her smile shattered the weight of Riza’s stare into nothing.

The washroom was quiet, except for the rush of water.

She turned the tap, cool streams spilling over our joined hands. Then she flicked droplets at my cheek, giggling. Again, onto my sleeve.

Her laughter bounced against the tiled walls, wrapping me whole.

I smiled helplessly.

But then, her grin softened, faltered.
“Sam,” she whispered, pouting slightly. “Why are you so nice to me?”

I blinked, caught off guard.

“I trouble you. Irritate you. And still… you don’t get angry. Why?”

The truth tore free, trembling.
“Because nothing you do feels like trouble. I… I like it. I’m happy when you bother me.”

Her lips curved into a smile so radiant it melted me.

And then her arms wrapped tight around me. Her cheek pressed against my chest.

Her lips brushed my skin—soft, featherlight, devastating.

My breath fractured. Every nerve lit up.

Her whisper came next, silk against my cheek:
“Then I’ll always trouble you like this. And you’ll never get angry with me.”

Something inside me broke.

This time, I hugged her back.

Held her like she was the only thing tethering me to the earth.

And yet, under the flood of heat, a trembling fear pulsed—
What if this was nothing to her? Just play, just friendship?
While for me… it was everything.

I buried my face against her shoulder, holding her tighter, terrified that if I let go, so would she.

When we stepped out of the washroom, the air felt different. Heavy.

Whispers rippled. Dozens of eyes trailed us. On me.

I’d always been invisible—the shadow at the edge of the crowd. And now, here I was, arm in arm with Sia—the girl everyone noticed.

The contrast buzzed through the hallways, stirring jealousy, confusion, curiosity.

Her friends stared at me, sharp and unyielding, their eyes like blades measuring if I was worthy.

I wanted to shrink. To escape.

But Sia’s arm held mine firm.
She pulled me with her, fearless, like I belonged at her side.

And as the lunch bell rang, one question burned in me—
How long could I survive in her world like this?