Rose hopped on a bus for her last class of the day, prepared for the grueling hours ahead. She was headed to a nearby college, where students could take job related classes to prepare for the future. If a student was unsure of the career they were pursuing, they could also use the classes as a practice attempt. Depending on the course, students could receive a certificate when completed.

Numerous students piled into the five provided school buses. The school feared students would ditch class, so driving a car was forbidden. Although, it’s not like Rose owned a car anyways.

The class Rose chose was Early Childhood Education. When she was young, she had decided to become an elementary special education teacher. Just remembering the reason why Rose chose this career sent thrills and nostalgia coursing through her.

Walking home one day from school, Rose passed by a nearby park she often played at. For only seven years old, Rose knew those streets like the back of her hand. The sights of identical yet differing houses… the smell of the wilderness surrounding the neighborhood… Even without Callum, Rose could manage on her own, and quite frankly, she enjoyed the comfort those walks nourished her with.

Passing the park, Rose noticed something was wrong. Unlike the usual shrieks of laughter and shouts of innocent playfulness, clear sobs rang painfully in her ears. Rose halted with narrowed eyes and turned towards the noise. There, a girl about six was crouched down, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She had tucked her head into her knees, and Rose knew all too well she was doing her best to disappear.

Beside her, a boy a few years older stood with his hands gripping his hips, puffing his chest out in arrogance. From where Rose stood at the end of the street, she could hear him shout degrading names towards the girl. Rose’s chest tightened, seeing the girl tremble uncontrollably.

Without a second thought, Rose ran over, pushed the tyrant down as hard as she could manage, and pulled the girl up. The girl was shocked at first, but after Rose hugged her, the girl clutched onto Rose’s shirt, crying.

Behind her, Rose could hear the girl’s tormentor huffing painfully as he tried to stand up. Rose decided it was best if she didn’t look behind where he may catch them.

Taking the girl’s hand, Rose ran with all her might and brought the girl to her house, only a couple houses down. For as long as she needed to, Rose comforted the girl until she felt better.

When the girl’s parents came to pick her up, they each thanked Rose with tears streaming. The same bully Rose saw had been harassing the girl for a while, but the girl refused to point him out to her parents. They were at their wits end on what to do.

By that time, Rose had started to grow conscious of her uncharacteristic actions, but hearing their appreciations made her forget how tense she had become.

Later, Rose found out the girl was autistic. The only thing different about her from every other child Rose knew was the fact she carried the label ‘autistic’ everywhere she went. Besides that, she was another seven-year-old girl. Rose didn’t understand why she was made fun of, but she didn’t need to. From that point on, Rose wasn’t going to allow anyone to bully her. That day, the two became the best of friends until Rose lost her number after moving here.

It was because of her Rose wanted to help other special needs children. She wanted to protect them and make sure they understood how special they truly were.

Once off the bus, each student headed their separate ways. Rose quickly noticed everyone had left her and forgot where she was supposed to go. Callum had shown her once before, but Rose drew a blank.

After wandering around like a lost puppy, a short, thin girl around Rose’s age walked up to her. Radiant, hazel eyes peered through her beautiful, auburn hair. She appeared flawless, almost too perfect. In an instant, the girl reminded Rose of someone, but Rose was unable to put her finger on whom.

“Hey, are you lost?” the girl asked. Rose was blinded by her bright smile.

“Yeah, I’m trying to find room T103. I’ve been searching for forever.”

“You can walk with me. I’m headed near there,” the girl said, motioning for Rose to follow her.

“Thanks, I’m Ambrosia.”

“I’m Catalina.”

“Nice name,” Rose remarked.

“Thanks. I like yours, too. So, what class are you headed to?” Catalina asked. Rose noted how cheerful Catalina seemed. Somehow, she lifted Rose’s spirits from the train wreck they were before.

“Early Childhood Education. You?”

“Criminal Justice.” Pointing to a room, Catalina stated, “Look, we’re here.” Rose frowned. She liked talking with Catalina, who she felt stayed true to herself; someone Rose needed in her life. “I have to go over there.” Catalina pointed down the extensive hall.

“Thanks. I’d still be walking around if it weren’t for you,” Rose half-smiled.

“Do you want to meet up after class?”

“Sure,” Rose replied, beaming.

“Okay, great! I’ll see you, then,” Catalina stated, a glimmer in her eyes.

“Later!”

With newfound inspiration, Rose walked inside the classroom. She wouldn’t mind sitting through the dull moments of class to see a friend like Catalina.