We’re similar in that way.
“Yeah, they have a thing for cities, don’t they?” Lilia jokes.
Bea’s voice softens. “She’s kind of like a ghost. Nowhere near as popular, but I think she prefers it that way.”
“Why is she treated so differently?” I ask.
Lilia sighs. “Berlin rubs people the wrong way, and that kind of extends to Paris by association. People can be cruel.”
Bea nods. “We’ve tried to reach out to her, invite her to sit with us, but she usually keeps to herself. She has some friends, but they’re not… great. I don’t think they even like her that much.”
I watch as Paris grabs her books and hurries away, her eyes glued to the floor.
“As much as I can’t stand Berlin, I feel bad for Paris,” Lilia murmurs.
I don’t respond. I just watch Paris’s retreating figure and feel a strange connection—to the girl who hides in the shadows, just like me.
Sometimes it’s easier that way.
EIGHT
Rule Number Five ofAdeline’s Guide to Overcoming Loneliness: Adeline, listen to a song that feels like it understands you (find playlist below). Music has a way of putting words to things we can’t quite understand.
“What class do you have next?” Bea asks, her voice casual as we weave through the crowded hallway.
“Um, English Literature,” I say. I’ve always loved writing. It’s one of the few things that feels like mine, a way to let the noise in my head spill out in ink. Business Studies seemed interesting too, and Maths of course. My dad always insisted on all of us working extra hard when it came to Maths. In fact, it had been his dream to be a Maths teacher at one point.
He would have done well.
“Room 204,” Bea says, glancing at me. “Want me to take you?”
“No, no, it’s fine. You’ll be late,” I reply, shaking my head. The last thing I want is to be an inconvenience to her.
Bea’s smile widens. “It’s no problem. Really, I insist.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage—”
“No worries, Addie. It’s my pleasure.” She cuts me off, taking my arm with a playful tug. “Let’s go.”
“Bye, Lilia!” she calls as she drags me away.
When we reach the door to room 204, Bea stops, releasing my arm. “There you are. Room 204,” she says, but just as she’s about to leave, she spins around, her eyes alight with a new idea.
“Can I borrow your phone really quickly?” she asks, holding out her hand expectantly. “I’ll put in my number, and you can text me later.”
I blink, too shocked to refuse. Bea Mallory wantsmynumber? Wordlessly, I hand over my phone, trying to keep my eyes from popping out of my head.
As she types, she glances at the screen and quirks an eyebrow. “Not many contacts here. How come?”
I shrug, unsure of what to say. The truth? The only people in my contacts are Sam, Naomi, and Camille. The rest? Deleted. There wasn’t much point in holding on to people who had already let go of me.
“Well, now you have Lilia and me on there too,” Bea says, handing the phone back with a triumphant smile. Then, checking her own phone, her eyes widen slightly. “There you go! I’ll text you later. Gotta run. Bye!”
And just like that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd with the same whirlwind energy she arrived with. I take a deep breath, clutching my phone as if it’s a lifeline, and step into the classroom.
The room is already half-full, students chatting and shuffling papers. My nerves bubble up, a mixture of excitement and dread. But as I scan the rows of seats, my eyes land on Naomi, sitting near the front. There’s an empty seat beside her, and for a moment, hope flickers in my chest.
“Naomi! There you are!” I call out, my voice bright with relief. I’d texted her earlier, but she hadn’t replied. Maybe she’d been busy?
