Somiya and Demi strolled into their classroom, their laughter echoing as they chatted about the latest gossip. Zeya trailed closely behind, her mind elsewhere, disinterested in their conversation. "Here's your English notecopy. Didn't I tell you that you left it in class?" Demi remarked, handing Zeya her copy with a knowing smile. As Somiya and Demi rummaged through their bags, taking out their own note copies, Zeya's attention drifted, lost in a whirlwind of her own emotions.
Once they reached the library, Zeya sank into a seat, her fingers idly flipping through her notecopy. Her gaze fell upon a small, crumpled piece of paper tucked away inside. Assuming it was just a scrap from her notes, she pulled it out, only to frown upon discovering it was scrawled with letters. Demi and Somiya continued their lively banter, oblivious to Zeya's growing curiosity. As she unfolded the note, she noticed it was a stranger's handwriting. It certainly didn't belong to anyone in her class. The note simply read, "Meet me at the auditorium," devoid of a name.
Confusion washed over her like a cold wave, chilling her thoughts. While she had received letters before, today felt different; the weight of the crumpled paper in her hand pulsed with unspoken urgency. She wasn't in the mood for kindness or new encounters, yet her heart fluttered with a strange eagerness to meet the person behind the note. The thought of rejecting someone's invitation loomed over her, heavy and suffocating, but exhaustion clung to her like a second skin. Just as she was about to crumple the note and dismiss it, a new thought pierced through her weariness: What if that person was still waiting?
The club incident flashed vividly in her mind, heavy emotions swirling as she recalled Amaya's reaction, the sting of hurt still fresh. Zeya's heart ached knowing it was her own mistake that brought wall in their friendship again. She felt a mix of longing and regret, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as the memory tugged at her heart. With a deep breath, she stood up and made her way towards the auditorium, leaving her friends behind.
The door of the auditorium creaked open, revealing a dark room shrouded in silence, not a single light breaking the stillness. Zeya frowned, disappointment washing over her like a cold wave, mocking her own foolishness for believing someone would actually wait for her. The weight of her heart sank, heavy with the realization that she might have been chasing a ghost.
*Cough—cough—*
The sound pierced the silence, drawing Zeya's attention to a figure nestled in the middle of the auditorium. She paused, her heart racing with a mix of hesitation and nervousness as she stepped forward. As she approached, her breath caught in her throat; there, illuminated by the faintest glimmer of light, lay Amaya, sleeping peacefully. Was it mere coincidence, or was the person she had come to find truly Amaya? Confusion swirled within her, but alongside it was a flicker of hope.
Maybe Amaya sensed her presence, or perhaps the weight of her fatigue drew her from sleep, but suddenly, Amaya opened her eyes, meeting Zeya's gaze. Zeya's hand trembled, her heart pounding in her chest as guilt flooded her. She lowered her head, unable to meet Amaya's eyes, her gaze fixed on her own feet, burdened by the weight of their past. Amaya shifted slightly, clearing her throat, and Zeya hesitated, biting her lip as she mustered the courage to raise her gaze. The moment their eyes locked, a rush of emotions surged between them making Zeya quickly lowered her gaze again.
"Sorry for disturbing you. I didn't know you were here—"
"I asked you to come. Of course I would be here." Amaya interrupted Zeya, her voice hoarse and raspy, echoing the dryness of her throat. Zeya's heart raced as she raised her head, staring at Amaya in shock. She had at least assumed she would never see Amaya's face again after everything that had happened. "I'm sorry. I know sorry won't be enough for what I did. If you don't want to—"
"I'm sorry." Amaya cut in again, her voice low, her gaze fixed on her knees as if they held the weight of her regret. Zeya's chest tightened; she wanted to speak, to explain, but Amaya continued, "I shouldn't have reacted like that."
Zeya's eyes widened as she knelt beside Amaya, urgency lacing her voice. "No, no! You weren't wrong! I was the one at fault. I should have never kissed you without your consent. Please, don't apologize for something that isn't your fault. If it helps, you can be angry with me, even slap me if you need to. Just know, Amaya, you have every right to be upset with me."
Amaya shook her head, gently taking Zeya's hands in hers, her voice quaking with guilt and regret. "But I was the one who led you on. I'm more at fault than you are. You don't need to feel guilty for what happened; it was my fault all along. I was just so shocked and sca—just forget it. I really just wanted to say I'm sorry."
Zeya shook her head, resting her forehead against their intertwined hands, her breath hitching as relief washed over her like a gentle tide. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her voice trembled as she poured out her heart. "I was scared. I thought you'd hate me, that you would never look at me the same way again. I even thought you didn't come to school because of me. Amaya, I'm—I'm so sorry. And please, don't apologize again because it was never your fault. It was mine all along. Please, please forgive me. I promise I'll never do something so stupid again, but please don't push me away."
Tears streamed down Zeya's cheeks, her lips trembling as the weight of her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Amaya felt her heart twist at the sight; she reached out, her thumb gently brushing against Zeya's cheek as she wiped away the tears. "Hey, please don't cry," she murmured, her voice a soft balm in the charged atmosphere. "I didn't mean to push you away. I just… I didn't want someone as soft and kind-hearted as you to be around me when I'm angry."
She guided Zeya to sit in the chair beside her, her touch steady and reassuring, like a lifeline in a turbulent sea. "I often say horrible things I don't mean when I'm angry," Amaya confessed, her brow knitting together in concern, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. "So please, do me a favor and just leave me alone when you notice I'm upset. I can't control my anger, and I really don't want to hurt you." Her gaze locked onto Zeya's, her eyes brimming with sincerity, as if pleading for Zeya to understand the depth of her struggle.
Zeya stared at Amaya for a few moments, her heart racing as she gulped to steady herself. "Can I call you Ama again?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. Amaya licked her lips, her expression turning serious as she glanced at the hand she was holding, rubbing it gently with her thumb. After a moment, she raised her gaze to meet Zeya's. "You can call me yours too," Amaya teased, a playful glint flickering in her eyes.
Zeya bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile, but it was a losing battle. Her shoulders shook with laughter, the sound bright and infectious, echoing through the quiet corners of the auditorium, filling the space with warmth and light.
Soon, they found themselves opening up again, but this time Amaya shared everything she had been through while she was sick at home. She leaned back, her voice lively as she talked about what her friends did with her, like a child telling mischief her siblings did at home to her mom. Zeya burst into laughter, her whole body shaking with joy, a hand instinctively grabbing her stomach as she struggled to hold back her amusement at the tales of Seth and Fred's relentless teasing and mischief. Amaya couldn't help but smile, the corners of her lips lifting slightly as she focused on Zeya. She absentmindedly touched the ring on her finger, a fleeting thought crossing her mind, but she chose to keep it tucked away for now, savouring the moment of pure joy between them.
*Click–*
"Ama!" Zeya beamed with delight, her cheerful voice ringing in Amaya's ears like a sweet melody. Amaya raised her eyebrows, her finger hovering over the bell, as she asked, "I didn't even press the bell. How did you know I was outside?" Zeya, grinning from ear to ear, wrapped her arms around Amaya's hand, pulling her inside with an infectious energy. "It's a secret only your shadow knows," she said, a playful glint in her eye.
"Mom! Ama is here!" Zeya announced, her voice bright and full of excitement. Her mom dried her hands with a kitchen towel, stepping out with a raised eyebrow. "You're two minutes late, Ama." Zeya's mom's expression was a mix of mock sternness and warmth. "I found something amazing that I just had to get for my one and only Aunty," she said, handing a colourful bag. Zeya's mom sighed in disappointment, crossing her arms. "You know you're always welcome without a gift, right?" she said, her tone lightening.
"I'm starving," Amaya ignored Zeya's mom's words and said, wrapping her arms around Zeya's mom in a warm hug, her eyes wide with innocence. Zeya's mom chuckled, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "Next time, I won't forgive you if you bring another gift," she teased, heading to the kitchen for food.
"Wow, pancakes!" Amaya exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She took a bite, her expression shifting to pure delight. In no time, she had devoured two pancakes, leaving Zeya wide-eyed in disbelief. "Eat slowly! No one's going to take them from you!" Zeya said, pouring a glass of water and placing it in front of Amaya. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I last had pancakes?!? Ages!!" Amaya replied, her voice a pitch higher with enthusiasm.
"Do you really love pancakes that much?" Zeya asked, a playful smirk on her face as she watched Amaya devour her meal. "Who doesn't?! Just ask my friends; they'll tell you how obsessed I am! I used to have pancakes for lunch all the time when I was a kid!" Amaya responded, her mouth full of pancake. Zeya chuckled, shaking her head, and added two of her own pancakes onto Amaya's plate. "I never knew you loved something more than chicken. When was the last time you had your favourite pancakes?" Zeya inquired, genuinely curious.
Amaya gulped down her food and took a sip of water. "It's been, like, seven or eight years? Honestly, I can't even remember it," she admitted, reaching for another pancake and taking a generous bite. "Seven or eight years! Why did you stop eating them?" Zeya asked, leaning in closer, her surprise evident. Amaya paused mid-bite, her expression shifting as she slowly chewed and tried to remember it. "Because momma—" she stared at Zeya and hesitated, slowly her gaze drifted towards her plate. "It was momma who used to make pancakes for me," she finally said, her voice softening. "Then why did she stop making them?" Zeya asked, her curiosity piqued, unaware of the flicker of nostalgia in Amaya's eyes.
"Priority changed," Amaya said, her voice dimming as the spark in her eyes faded. Zeya frowned, immediately sensing something was off. She squeezed Amaya's hand gently and asked, "Did something happen?" Amaya shook her head, trying to mask her feelings. "I just got caught up with school and tuition, while she got busy with her work and other stuff." Amaya playfully shoved a piece of pancake into Zeya's mouth, grinning. "You better eat quickly, or I might just make it disappear like magic!" Zeya laughed, swatting Amaya's hand away. "Yeah right, more like you've got a bottomless pit in there, like Doraemon's pocket!" Zeya shot back, rolling her eyes with a smile.
"Ama, mom still hasn't agreed! Why can't she see what's best for me!?" Zeya huffed, plopping down beside Amaya in the library with an angry expression. Amaya gently tucked Zeya's hair behind her ear and cupped her face, her voice soothing, "You have to see it from her perspective too. She's your mom, and she knows what's best for you and your future." Zeya frowned, her voice tinged with doubt, "You don't want to study with me?" Amaya sighed, flicking Zeya's forehead playfully, causing her to wince. "Of course I want to study with you! But that doesn't mean you can just ignore your mom's feelings. She spent her almost whole life raising you; it's only natural for her to worry about you going so far alone." Amaya's eyes held a fierce intensity as she spoke. Zeya looked down, guilt washing over her. Her hands clutching the hem of Amaya's shirt as she looked up with a cute, pitiful expression. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.