It had been days since Yana and I stopped walking home together. I wasn’t sure if it was because of what I said, but she seemed pretty occupied herself. Maris had been keeping me company since then, and I could feel Yana and I were slowly drifting apart and I wasn’t sure anymore if what I did was right.
I slumped to my desk, surrendering to the heaviness in my eyes. I hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately, bothered by the silence enveloping my phone for nights. That, and everything else about Yana’s keeping distance was taking a toll on my already worn out sanity. Maris just replaced her book with her writing notebook and began scribbling in it. I think it was the last image I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up to a familiar scent in the air and that was when I noticed a lean hand resting on top of my head. I shot up in an instant—first thinking of Yana—but it turned out it was Maris who was waking me up.
