Fall brought along the crunch of dead leaves, the opportunity to wear one jacket for the next five months, dull colours that did not confuse her with variety, and him.

Middle school – they were eleven and the morning wind was exceptionally dry. He wriggled his hands behind his back to activate the lotion and keep his hands moist. He was standing in front of a new class, beside a new teacher, on the brink of stepping into a whole new world.

The autumn glow painted the desks gold, everything and her under the sunlight seemed as if touched by the angels.

"Introduce yourself," the class teacher said.

He smiled, like he was taught, and introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Carden. I like video games and sports, nice to meet you." His eyes skimmed over his new classmates, wondering if they would accept him. Most stared back at him with practiced stoic faces as expected of students of an elite academy. Though, when no one rose to occasion, she did.

A girl jumped up from her seat and exclaimed with a powerful wave of her hands, "Hello Carden! I'm Soleia," as if she were standing on top of a lighthouse guiding his lost ship by the sheer force of her brilliant smile. He was young, life was relatively simple and she caught his attention like a flame to his moth.

"Hey…" Carden said with a drag in his words, unsure of what to make of this sudden welcome.

Soleia pointed at the empty desk beside her, ignoring the awkwardness emanating from the boy, and demanded, "Teacher! Let him sit beside me!"

"Ah, yes, it would be a good idea to sit with Soleia! She's the smartest in the class and she can help you with everything…quite possibly, yes, she is very resourceful. Somehow," the teacher informed Carden, awkwardly clearing her throat and frowning in between words.

"Fine by me," Carden whispered with a shrug and headed towards her, hoping the lighthouse guide navigated him to a safe destination.

When he placed his bag on the desk beside hers, she ran a hand over its shiny black leather and flicked a diamond looking stud. Her eyes were wide with bewilderment and her mouth slightly agape.

"Are you done?" he asked, amused by the fascination she found in his bag.

"It's really good," Soliea complimented, coughing awkwardly.

"Thank you," he took a seat and hung the bag by the hook on the desk.

Autumn was perfect for classes, Carden realised, for it was not too hot to concentrate or too cold to laze around. Autumn was perfect to witness Soleia raise up like a spring in a jumpscare box, answering questions, asking questions, making notes but also making sure to lean into his side to explain little titbits that others seemed to have missed.

After class, students would hoard her desk. She shared her notes generously with her classmates, for the meagre amount of five dollars per subject and did everyone's homework for the cheap amount of fifteen dollars for all but math— which was priced at an audacious twenty-five dollars.

One would think those astronomical prices for eleven-year-olds would keep Soleia's profits at bay, but no—theirs was a school for conventionally well-off folks and Soleia was able to make it owing to scholarships. Rich folks preferred an easy life and as the crisp notes under her plastic pencil-case would increase, so would her desire to make their life easier. It was a win-win, Carden noticed.

The world seemed easy for Soleia, as Carden often observed from his desk with his head resting over his arms. She got along with people, knew what jokes would bring out laughs and always asked for the well-being of pets if anyone had one. She was considerate and always did an excellent job at everyone's homework, he knew because Carden had yet to get anything but an A+ all semester long. Without even lifting a pen.

Autumn was no season for admiration but Soleia would bloom like a fall flower.

It was easy, liking her and enjoying her company, for her doe eyes would shine big and bright whenever she would get a question right or win at a race. Ah, she was pretty sporty as well and delightfully beautiful if one would notice her for long. The world seemed to be her oyster and she shined like a real pearl within it.

Everything was biased for her and that everything soon included Carden.

It was slightly unfair how quickly he got used to her company, her sitting beside him and the tangential ramblings of facts with her eyes strained on the paper in front. The little taps of her pencil which annoyed him at first soon became a constant as winter came along. If she would move seats to explain coursework to another classmate, Carden would feel oddly left behind. Her helpful nature was not personally confined to him and how annoyed he would feel when she would shower her attention on other people. That was the thing with Soleia, she was very just with her distribution of attention. It was saddening, really, because when she had waved so brightly at his first day and demanded he sit next to her—Carden really thought he was special.

Winter made him realise that Soleia's warmth was meant to be shared. That was the thing with her. She made everyone feel special.

The summer they were twelve, she held his hand and asked him, "Do you want to do something with me?"

Carden, not having much to do, agreed right away.

"I was planning to sell these," she said as she dug her hands in her old school bag and pulled out a bunch of cut-outs. Carden picked them up and upon further inspection he noticed that they were small drawings that she had cut out like stickers. "I made these over the winter. I'm planning to make those into book marks and sell them," she clarified.

That was a neat little idea for summer, Carden smiled.

"So, where do I come in this?" he asked, curious and amused.

She looked him dead in the eye, her dark head absorbing all the summer sun shining behind, and said, "You fund the stall and the books, we split 60-40, what do you say?" Her finger flicked through the innumerable stickers, cautiously.

Carden laughed out loud, with his head thrown back and shoulders shaking. She was like a withering leaf blowing with the summer wind.

"You're very funny," he wheezed after wiping his tears, still breathing hard as he looked at her.

"Thank you, I try," she deadpanned and raised a thumbs up in his face.

"I'll do it. I'll help you," he agreed, after containing his laughter and resting properly in his seat.

"Oh, will you?" she asked, rhetoric, eyes wide and bright.

He laughed again.

"Yes, but you'll have to be my best friend and eat lunches only with me."

"Of course! I would love to!" she cried and jumped him in a hug. Her slender arms circled his shoulders and her chin rested awkwardly behind his head. Summer was hot enough but her hug did not annoy him.

Carden's grandparents were overjoyed by his proactiveness and took not a thought longer to fund him. All summer long, they made a decent handful of profits.

Soleia would hunch over coursebooks and extra homework that she had been commissioned to complete in between sales breaks and as soon as she was done shoving the food down her stomach, she would be running around to bring in customers whilst Carden stayed and looked over the shop.

She worked hard, he noticed. Maybe life wasn't easy for her after all.

It brought an odd sense of peace to his mind.

Over the summer, he noticed a lot about her—more than he had whilst being her seatmate. During school hours she was always busy pouring over books, living in the moment of her routine life, but here he saw a different side of her. He noticed the subtle jut of her lower lip when something was not going her way, or the small frown on her forehead when customers would misplace the bookmarks. She would do tiny claps after every successful sale and eat a bite of her dry sandwich. She would usually inhale her food in a breath—as if eating was the biggest waste of time in her life—but when she was working, or studying, the bites would get slower and the chewing longer.

Much like a cow.

It amused him.

The next summer, she had the bold audacity to ask him to fund for Terrariums. They were a hot trend and Soleia wanted to jump the money-making ship.

This time, he did not laugh in her face for he was genuinely intrigued by the sales pitch she was sharing—complete with a printed document of pros and cons, crisp and hot in his hand. She went on and on about how they would surely make no losses, so Carden had to do what he did.

Schedule an appointment for her, with his grandfather. Obviously.

It was a warm sunny day and Soleia was appropriately sweating—for all different reasons—as she was being escorted through the wide expanse of the Walker Estate. Through his window, Carden could see her slender figure following the butler with small steps and shrunken shoulders; so unlike the bold Soleia he knew. She seemed out of place and so new to him.

He wanted to see more of her, but she disappeared out of his line of sight. Carden ran down the stairs, skipping two at a time—an act that would give his maids a life-threatening heart attack — and reached down to see her enter the foyer. His panting breath was veiled under a smile as he saw her walk inside, wearing a not-so-crumbly crème dress with obnoxious red roses and hair tied in a tight pony-tail. He choked out a laugh, "I can always count on you to not hold up appearances."

Her lost eyes brightened upon sighting him and she waved with vigour, "Your home is very big, like a castle!"

Carden, on the other hand, had tried hard to look perfect for her first visit. He had oiled his blonde hair and combed them in a neat side part. He had his custom Dior dress-suit ironed by the maids a day before, he looked perfect in it, paired with Gucci sandals to keep the look casual and not earn side-eyes from his grandfather.

But one could count on Soleia to never notice appearances.

"Thank you," Carden mocked a bow as he paced to stand by her side. "I see you come prepared, nervous?" he asked as he took her bag off her shoulders and handed it to the butler.

"I would not say nervous. Terrified? Yes. Horrified? Yes. I wrote a will and a letter, everything, before leaving home, just in case I die here today. I am very accepting of my mortality," she informed with pursed lips and a grim nod.

This time, Carden laughed out loud. There was always a new layer to unfold.

"Don't be silly, grandpa loves people like you. Trust me, I'd know," he encouraged her with a little pat on the back.

"Good then, we love grandpa too!" Soleia exclaimed, grinning wide, and raised two thumbs-up in his face.

"Oh, do you now? I'm highly obliged." A husky voice resounded in the foyer, raising goosebumps on Soleia's arms and legs. She was pale as paper, wide eyed, yet her feet headed towards the elderly figure and her back bent into a respectful bow.

Did she really think he was a king or something?!

"The honour is all mine," Soleia curtsied, face laced with a bright smile.

Carden would be fooled by the eloquence, almost, if he had not seen her fidgeting fingers by her dress' hem.

Grandpa laughed as Carden ran up to make introductions, "Soleia, Grandpa Walker. Grandpa, Soleia Manchester."

"Ah, good, good, I have heard a lot about you," Grandpa patted her head as she gave him a sheepish smile.

"All good things, I suppose?" she asked with a cheeky glint in her eye.

"Too many, almost every dinner. I'm sure I know you just as much as my grandson does," he laughed, much like Carden's laugh, but a little louder and heartier. "Come along in my study, let us see what you are proposing."

"Yes sir!" Soleia exclaimed with such military force that all she lacked was a salute and foot stomp.

It made grandpa laugh again. "You can call be grandpa or papa, whatever floats your boat…as you young folks say. Sir is…too much for us, considering you love me and all that. Right?" he chuckled with a twinkle in his old grey eyes.

"Oh! I could not, grandpapa!" Soleia smiled and the elderly man gave her a nod of recognition.

"Grandma isn't home today. She's visiting her friend's gardens or something," Carden informed as they made their way to his grandfather's study.

"Oh, she likes flowers? Then she would surely like our Terrarium! I shall make one for her!"

Thirteen-year-old Soleia had pitched the idea in elaborate detail and within a month, they were making small profits. She had an eye for business, or maybe she was surrounded by kindness, or maybe she was just blessed. Soleia Manchester lived a good life, through and through.

Soon, just lunches with her were not enough. She'd eat too quick and leave too fast. They never talked if not for coursework, new projects or his grandparents.

It was like he did not know her by her words…but only through his observations.

Who was Soleia Manchester beyond her unruly black hair, big brown eyes, ink-stained hands and ever crumpled uniform? Why was she always in such haste? Why did she like earning money so much? What was her favourite colour? Did she have a favourite snack? How much money would she take to fail a semester?

She was full of mysteries to him. Mysteries he could not unravel. Yet.

The next summer she produced a play by Oscar Wilde and he was her male lead, Earnest. That summer she earned money all by herself, stitching costumes on the side whilst telling the committee that she outsourced them. He knew because he noticed, like always, the bandages increasing on her fingers during early practices, the threads that would stick to her clothes and hair, or the extra fabric that would sometimes peek out of her school bag.

The same bag she had been using for as long as he knew her. He should gift her a bag but he did not even know her birthday. She never celebrated it like everyone else did. And above all, he felt a bit excluded.

Even though their summer of fourteen was not solely a joint endeavour between them, he enjoyed being her male lead. She had a vision, a way of manifestation, a sense of coherence that brought everything together.

The elaborate sets, the extravagant outfits, the whimsical soundtracks—it was not hard to say that the play was a collaborative success. The teachers had planned an after party for the kids but she never stayed.

Soleia made everyone feel special on normal days, but she was never present on special occasions.

One afternoon, way into winter, they were sitting in a library; him lounging with a book in hand just to stay in her company and her head pouring over books and papers.

"Hey, Sol, when's your birthday?" Carden asked, making it sound as casual as one, who had been planning to ask since summer, could.

She stopped abruptly, jutted her lower lip and narrowed her eyes, as if in deep thought. Then, she turned to face him and shrugged, "I don't know, I am orphan. No one told me."

Oh.

Wow.

That was a piece of information to receive almost four years into a friendship.

Carden was stunned to say the least. His mouth could not form words legible enough to convey whatever he did not know he felt. Pity? A sense of relief that she did not have it all? Sadness? Comradery because his parents were dead too? An understanding of her morbid sense of humour?

"Oh." He worded-out, eloquently.

She nodded with an amused smile.

"So, can I give you a birthday?"

Her eyes widened, brows raised up in exasperation, "Oh?"

He nodded with an amused smile. She did not seem like she was going to elaborate on her living circumstances and he did not want to pry. Instead, he closed her books and notes, taking her hand in hers.

"Come with me," he said, shoving their stuff in his bag.

"But I still have so much to do!" she exclaimed, quite scandalized as he disrespectfully shoved her books in his bag.

"It's fine, work can wait. Give me one evening."

It was the fifteenth of November as he held her hand and led her down the snow fed street, into a warmly lit bakery and bought her a birthday cake. It was a cold day as he held onto both their bags and the cake whilst forcing her to buy a warm coat she liked. It was a random Friday, she had ten notes to complete and three homework assignments to ace. Buying a school bag and shoes were not on her to-do list, Carden knew, but he was not one for taking no as an answer and she was not all that reluctant, surprisingly.

She was fourteen so he stuffed fourteen candles in her cake and sang the birthday song on top of his lungs, embarrassing them in front of the whole café. She cut the cake, begrudgingly, yet her eyes shone with a grateful sparkle.

The evening was young and they ate all the street food there was. Carden discovered that Soleia liked spicy food. She wouldn't stop even when her eyes were watering and mouth would turn into a mere senseless space. She really liked eating food, contrary to his observatory believes. She savoured her bites, moaned and sang praises with every swallow and could not thank him enough. This, again, was something new.

Carden had never seen this side of her before.

The flushed face, bright eyed, obligatory gratefulness. She looked beautiful in winters, they suited the darkness of her hair, the mystery of her eyes and the rosiness of her happiness.

Carden was proud of himself for planning an impromptu successful birthday.

"Thank you for today. I will never forget this," she said as they parted ways that night, her arms filled with more than she could carry.

"Well, I hope not. This is your birthday after all," Carden replied with a chuckle and waved her goodnight.

As winter watered down under the summer sun, questions regarding their future became clearer and within sight.

"What do you want to be?" their class teacher asked.

"I want to be on TV!" Soleia replied dreamily, resting her head on the back of her seat.

Carden did not know that. This was new. He had only assumed that she would be someone great like the First Female President of the United States or discover a cure for cancer or maybe develop the perfect sentient A.I…anything that did not involve chasing clout and being on television. She was better than that and certainly not conventionally beautiful enough.

"What about you, Carden?"

"Huh?" he was jerked out of his Soleia-induced trance. He did that a lot recently, very shamefully.

"What do you want to be?" His teacher repeated.

He did not know. Someone great, probably, that was a given considering his family legacy but he did not have will enough.

"What do you want me to be?" he asked back, a curious tilt in his head.

The teacher was taken aback, but nodded. Some children required counselling, of course, "Soleia and you have showcased great business potential. You could easily make a name in the commercial field, if that is to your interest. Though, you were quite captivating at the school play as well, so, I guess the final decision would be yours."

Carden nodded and turned to Soleia with expectant eyes.

She shrugged her shoulders and said, "You should stay rich and handsome," with a thumbs up.

He laughed at that, "I shall try my best," and replied with a nod of acknowledgement.

The coursework expanded, AP subjects required diligence and overstaying in Soleia's company made him somewhat diligent as well.

It was during that summer when he saw Soleia's only family, that was her older sister. She had come to pick Soleia up with a man on her arm. The man looked presentable enough but Soleia's sister was a little too beautiful for him. Her eyes shone under the sun like emeralds and her dark hair contrasted the paleness of her skin. She deserved to be on television, she deserved greatness sheerly because of her beauty. From the distance he saw her leave, he remained in awe.

That summer, Carden never heard from Soleia. Not even a whisper of business or monetary profits. He was lolling around his home with such depressed streak of never changing out of his Iron Man pyjamas that his grandpa packed him off to summer camp.

He returned tanned and rich with knowledge about knots, tents, helpful plants, deadly animals and survival. She returned healthier, with a new bag, aesthetic accessories and ironed uniform. Her skin lost its rough paleness and glowed healthily instead. Her hair was styled in lose curls and consequently she was attracting more attention than ever. Soleia Manchester finally had her "Glow Up" which scratched off the stamp of 'Homework Girl'.

"What happened to you? You were lost all summer and now you come back looking like you claimed the lost crown of Monaco or something?!"

"I got lucky," she laughed and took a seat beside him, "Don't worry though, I still have a long way to go before becoming a princess. I shall stay modest and humble until then."

The bag and shoes he had gifted were all replaced. Carden tried not to feel betrayed but failed. His lower lip subtly jutted out in petty jealousy.

She stopped selling homework and notes.

She started eating slower so their lunch conversations became longer.

"So, she said that octopuses are just wet spiders and I'm like, believe me, no, it's more than that! Let us start with the eyes and hearts, shall we? And she held it in, I did not know that, because the next thing I know I'm picking up coffee orders named 'Ursala is a Spider,' and she has already left with the car?! Talk about petty! What a sore loser!"

Carden did not know that Soleia was one for random talk but he realised that he liked her more this way. She seemed more at ease, almost lounging in her chair and gesticulating with her hands as her eyeballs went all over the place to recall the perfect word-to-word rendition for him.

"You should have asked her to eat a spider, like one eats Octopuses. She would have been instantly stumped," Carden said, slurping on his noodles.

"Oh, my lord! Yes! Why did I not think of that? You're brilliant! I'll do this as soon as I reach home!" she exclaimed, almost choking on the noodles with unbridled excitement.

Though, with the handful of free time she now seemed to have on her hands, she started to spend it with a pretty boy from another class. Carden, for the life of him, could not figure out why. Pretty boy Landon was hitting puberty, bursting with pimples, very lanky, yet he managed to be popular somehow. Squealing girls reported that, "He has the voice of a husky angel and plays the guitar like an absolute beast!"

The analogy made as much sense as Landon's existence.

Carden did not pester her newfound-friendships and Soleia went on to join the Reporting Team of their school. She chased gossip stories, mostly about Landon and his girlfriend shenanigans, which seemed way beneath her stature, yet the new-found-ambition suited her. Her eyes would sparkle with purpose and her face would morph into the brightest smile every time she'd bring the school paper and point at her name in print, under an article. It'd make Carden feel all warm and fluttery. In summer and in winter.

He missed earning money with her, but instead he gained weekend coffee dates with her. They would spend days at length, in a café, editing her gossip articles and keeping up with the coursework. He just liked working around her because it kept him productive.

At sixteen, she attended the homecoming dance with Landon whilst Carden went alone. It's not like he did not have options—girls were literally begging him to choose them—but he did not feel the need to. Carden liked his peace, his boundaries and his solace. He was comfortable being alone and did not urge for constant human company – if not for Soleia's.

He liked the party, he enjoyed it with acquaintances, discovered that Soleia can dance and found himself fascinated by her fluid movements. Six years into their friendship, he still was not close enough to know all of her.

It was hard, discovering and understanding a multi-faceted human like her. Maybe that is why this could be counted as his longest, non-obligatory, relationship with a person who was not blood related to him.

Carden appreciated it.

AP science was easy and so was AP business management. They shared all classes and yet no end points for their dreams. Soleia wanted to live comfortably by applying to a good national college whilst Carden's grandparents insisted he joined Ivy League. Soleia could have made it with him, but she did not want to.

"Why not? This will be perfect for your portfolio! You could do so much in life!"

"I do not want to do so much," she pursed her lips, "I want to earn easy money. I cannot do that by attending an Ivy League and suffering like I suffered all my childhood. I do not enjoy studying, I am able to do it only because I am consistent with it."

Ah. He did not know that.

"But you could probably do two or three more years, with me…?" he asked, voice low and unsure.

"I'm sorry," was all she said.

He was disappointed. He did not know what subconscious expectations of greatness he had attached with her; he did not know when or how—but it disappointed him so much that she would not live up to her full potential. The most amazing girl he had ever met only aspired to be average and make it easy in life. The girl whose eyes would burn with passion in the face of twelve homework essays said that she did not like studying. It was appalling. The world was disappointing and he wanted no more of it.

Carden respected people and their boundaries. He was not one to pry.

So, they drifted apart in preparation of drifting apart even when they were sitting beside each other. Carden minded his own business until it was the day to leave. He left her a goodbye note in her desk, nothing else, hoping she would discover easy money.

His college life was comfortable amidst the select smartest people in the world, but he did not find anyone like her. Not that he was searching, for he was too busy wondering if someone could be your greatest inspiration as well your greatest disappointment.

That surely was bipolarity to some illegal extent.

He had to come back. To find her, just to know if she made it in life. She had to; she was the best person he knew. Life was easy with her efforts; she was blessed after all.

So, imagine his surprise when the boon of his existence and object of all his inspirations, walked up to him on the night of their alumni reunion and said, "Long time no see. I heard you're single. Do you want to marry me?"