Angela walked slowly, a few steps behind the main group. The noise of laughter and footsteps felt distant, like a world she was no longer part of. She kicked a small stone on the path without thinking, hands folded loosely behind her back.
Then a light tap touched her shoulders.
She turned.
Christine.
"Hey," Christine said, a gentle grin on her face. "I saw you walking alone. Thought your friends had dumped you again."
Angela didn't speak, just gave a quiet huff through her nose and looked away, her lips twitching slightly.
Christine reached into her side bag and held something out. "Here. I bought this earlier. I thought maybe you'd to try it. I don't know if they sell it outside the park-one of those rare ones."
Angela blinked at the wrapped snack and took it slowly. "You sure?"
Christine nodded. "Positive."
Angela opened it, took a cautious bite-and then let out a soft, surprised laugh. "It's good.
Really good."
Christine smiled wider, clearly pleased. "I made you smile."
Angela paused, touched by the simplicity of it. "Thanks."
They kept walking.
Then Christine glanced at the tree, her voice quieter now.
"Sometimes...it feels lonely when people you're close to drift away. Not because they mean to hurt you, but...life just moves. They meet others, find new spaces. Like Jennifer and Cynthia-it's not wrong, but it still stings, right?'
Angela didn't reply, but her silence said enough.
"I guess some friendships are meant to shift," Christine continued. "But if you ever feel left out...I'm still here."
She didn't say it with pity. Just softness. Truth.
Angela glanced sideways at her, a little more grounded, then nodded.
"Thanks. "Their footsteps fell in rhythm, not rushing-not behind-just side by side.
...
Clara walked slowly beside Miss Emily, her voice soft but steady.
"I'm grateful...for everything. I don't know how to repay you for taking care of my little sister-especially when I was away...and lost."
Miss Emily didn't speak at once. Her hands brushed lightly against her sides. "Jennifer isn't just your sister, Clara. She's like my little sister too."
Then, after a pause: "She's bright, well-behaved. A good example to the others. I think...a lot of students admire her more than she knows."
They walked in silence again, the wind carrying faint sounds from the group behind them.
Then Clara said, more carefully this time, "I think it's time I tell her."
Miss Emily's steps slowed. "Tell her?" she echoed, her voice a little stiff.
Clara nodded. "That I'm courting you."
Miss Emily stopped walking.
Her body stiffened, not visibly, but enough for Clara to notice. The air between them changed.
"I'm...I'm not ready," Miss Emily said quietly.
Clara didn't flinch. She looked ahead, her voice calm but weighted. "I meant what I said, you know. I meant it."
"If you're still not ready, I'll wait. I'll always wait. You know how much it takes-to keep waiting. But I don't mind. Not for you."
Miss Emily didn't respond. She just stood there, the sun pressing through the trees, shadows dancing over her face.
They walked on again, side by side-but the silence between them said more than either of them could.
...
Cynthia's hands were behind her back, fiddling with the ends of her sleeve, eyes darting from the trees to the path, then to Brian's shoes. They walked side by side, just the two of them.
"I thought Angela would be here," she murmured, then laughed quickly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I mean-not that I need her. It's just...you know. We always..." She trailed off.
Brian didn't say anything but looked over, waiting.
Cynthia peeked up at him and smiled, just a flicker. "But I can't ignore you either,' she said, tilting her head. "You're like...annoyingly ?"
"Annoyingly?" Brian asked.
"Yup." She kicked a small stone on the path, then swirled around in a circle and caught up beside him again. "I told myself I'd be a lady today. Walk quietly. Maybe fold my hands like this-" she folded her arms dramatically and raised her chin, mock-elegant.
Brian gave her a look. "That doesn't suit you."
"Rude!" Cynthia gasped. "I'm a woman of mystery. Of poise."
"More like a woman of chaos and sparkle."
She paused. Just for a second. Then grinned, wide and crooked. "...I'll take that."
They had fallen slightly behind the others now, walking side by side as the tour guide's voice echoed faintly ahead.
Cynthia was twirling the strap of her camera, speaking in half-sentences, bubbling with little laughs between her words. Brian was just watching her-half-amused, half-distracted.
Then she stepped on a loose stone.
"Ah!"
She stumbled, and Brian's hand shot out, catching her by the elbow.
Their eyes met.
She didn't pull away.
For a second, Cynthia forgot how to breathe.
The sunlight filtered through the trees, and everything felt...slow.
He was smiling, just slightly-the kind of smile that knew exactly how close they were.
Cynthia's cheeks flamed.
And then-
"Yo! That's the monkey from earlier!"
A group of loud boys rushed past, chasing the trail bend. One of then bumped Brian's shoulder as they ran, and just like that-the moment snapped.
Cynthia stepped back quickly, pretending to fix her camera strap.
Brian scratched the back of his head, chuckling softly.
"You okay?"
"Mm-hmmm." She nodded, eyes wide, voice quiet. "I'm fine."
But her fingers were still warm where he had touched her.
...
The air had shifted by the time Jennifer and Kevin left the crowd. They walked slowly, past the grassy slope, then into the shade of scattered trees-quiet, almost too quiet. The world around them felt paused, like something borrowed from another story.
Kevin kicked at a dry twig as he glanced around.
"I think this place is safe enough," he said, stopping where the leaves gathered and the light filtered soft through the branches.
"Not too many people come this way."
Jennifer nodded faintly. Her heart wasn't loud, but it was present. She didn't really understand what she was doing, or why she'd followed him-only that something inside her said maybe this is what people do. Maybe this would help.
She stood there, hands still, eyes lowered.
Kevin hesitated.
Then softly, "Are you sure?"
Jennifer lifted her head, just slightly. Then closed her eyes. Her lips pressing together gently, as if ready. Her voice low, quiet.
"Yes"
Kevin stepped forward. One foot. Then another. His breath growing shallow as he leaned in-close, closer-eyes fixed on hers, on the curve of her mouth.
But just before their lips met...
THWACK!
A blur.
A strike.
Kevin dropped like a sack of air, his shoulder meeting the ground with a startled grunt . A second of pure silence followed. Leaves rustled. Dust swirled.
Jennifer hadn't opened her eyes yet.
She'd felt the rush of wind. The sudden thud behind her-something collapsing, maybe someone falling. But it wasn't the sound that got her.
It was the scent.
Lavender.
It brushed against her like a whisper-soft fresh, too familiar.
Her heart skipped.
Her lips, still gently pursed, trembled.
She knew.
That scent always meant her.
Slowly, Jennifer opened her eyes.
And there she was-Miss Emily-standing just a few steps away, her scarf moving faintly with the breeze. Her eyes locked onto Jennifer's, calm but unreadable.
Right beside her stood Clara, holding a plastic bottle tightly in one hand, her face stiff and tense.
On the ground behind them, Kevin sat up slowly, wincing. A trail of scattered leaves and dust followed where he had fallen.
"What are you two doing here?" Miss Emily asked, voice quiet but firm. "This place...it's deserted. Completely isolated."
Kevin sat up straighter, brushing off his trousers.
We-we were just struggling. I slipped," he muttered.
Jennifer didn't speak. Her chest was tight. The shock, the embarrassment, the guilt-all circling inside like a storm.
Miss Emily stepped closer.
"Jennifer...how easy are you?" Her voice was low now, strained. "Had we not come in time, how far would this have gone?"
Jennifer looked up at her. Her hands clenched at her sides.
"It's none of your business," she said, her voice sharp. Too sharp.
The words hang in the air.
Then-Clara moved.
Before anyone could stop her, her hand rose and slapped Jennifer across the face. Not hard, but sharp enough.
"That's disrespectful,' Clara said through her teeth. "You are not supposed to speak to her like that."
Her lips trembled.
Her eyes burned.
Jennifer stayed still, face turned slightly from the slap, her breath caught halfway. A strand of hair fell over one eye, veiling the disbelief clouding her gaze.
She didn't speak.
She couldn't.
Clara...?
Her mind whispered the name like a prayer. She had always thought-no, she believed-that Clara was her shield. Her soft place. The one who saw her even when she didn't speak.
And now...Clara had struck her.
Jennifer's eyes lifted slowly, searching Clara's face, as if hoping the expression might be a mistake, a misprint, anything but real.
Clara stepped forward.
"Sorry, Jen," she murmured, voice cracking. "I didn't mean to."
But Jennifer had already taken a step back.
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
And then...
She turned.
Silent.
Tears began to slip quietly down her cheeks as she walked away-no anger, no words, just the soft, unraveling sound of footsteps over dry leaves.
She didn't look back.
Not even once.