I could still hear their voices fading down the hall, still feel the ghost of their hands on my shoulder.
It was nice. Safe. But overwhelming.
When I finally walked inside, heads turned for half a second before everyone went back to their notes. Thank God.
I quietly made my way to the same seat I always took—the far corner, second row—and sat down.
The class started the same way it always did, and I almost forgot about the cast until someone slid into the seat next to mine. A classmate I had talked to a few times, Suliaman.
“Hey, uh—are you okay?”
I gave a small nod. He glanced at my arm, eyebrows furrowing, but didn’t push.
“Right, um…” He scratched his neck awkwardly before looking down at his notes. “About that help you promised me last week? For my swimming psych project?”
I blinked, staring at him for a second before I remembered.
I did promise him.
Last Friday, before everything. He needed help applying mental focus and behavioural strategies to his training schedule, and I said I’d look over his data after class today.
The cast shouldn’t change that.
I couldn’t keep backing out of things. Not when I already felt like such a burden. So I nodded again and wrote on the corner of my notebook with my left hand, messy but readable.
After class? By the pool.
He grinned, grateful. “Perfect. You’re the best, seriously. Thanks, Aurora.”
I tried to smile back, small and polite, before turning to my notes.
Maybe… maybe this would distract me.
Maybe I could just do what I’m good at for a bit, help people, think, analyse and not feel like everything inside me was cracking.
—
Lunch came faster than I wanted it to.
The cafeteria was loud, too loud, and I couldn’t tell if the noise made the ache in my arm worse or if it was just everything else catching up to me.
Jennie waved me over the second she saw me, all bright eyes and that sunshine smile that usually made people feel better.
It didn’t work today.
I sat down across from her, setting my tray down even though I had no appetite. The sandwich looked like cardboard, and the smell of fries made my stomach twist.
“Hey,” she said softly, searching my face. “You okay?”
I nodded automatically. It was a lie, but it was easier.
Jennie’s smile faded a little, but she didn’t push. She started talking about something light, Aly’s sarcastic rant in class, how Layla accidentally dropped her sketchbook in the fountain again, but her words felt distant, like they were happening behind glass.
I stared at my food.
The hand that wasn’t in the cast sat limp in my lap. My fingers twitched like they wanted to move, to type, to do something, but even holding a fork felt like a chore.
In class, I hadn’t got a single thing done. Couldn’t type with one hand. Couldn’t take proper notes. Couldn’t focus.
