Chapter Text
First impressions were everything to Linh. In fact, most of the time the first impression she gets of others is how she perceives them. She sounds like one of those public speaking instructors, but that’s okay. Because she always believed that how you treat a stranger, or someone you’ve never met before, is the most important thing to know about someone.
Until she was fourteen, she had never met her father before. It was the same story her mother would always tell her. When she had asked why she had no father, no one to cheer on during the school’s fathers’ day race, her mother looked into her eyes, sorrow and regret in her eyes. It shut her up pretty quick, and Linh learnt to never ask again.
The first time she met her father was during her birthday celebration. A tall man she had never seen before walked in, a boy her age in tow. The first thing that came to mind was how similar he was to herself. The same gray irises, sleek black hair, and expressionless look. And the first words her father spoke to her was what changed her life forever.
“Have you missed me, daughter?”
It was condescending, icy, and as Linh suspected, purely for the benefit of her mother. He had a smile on his face, but the way his cheek twitched told Linh it wasn’t a common occurrence. It looked like it hurt. She knew then that she would hate this man. His closed-off stance, his tone of speaking, and the way that he looked at her as if he expected her to thank him.
When she finally registered the words, it wasn’t happiness at finally meeting her father. No, it was pure, white-hot anger. Anger when her mother announced right after that she was remarrying him. Like they didn’t even care how it would affect Linh, that she would have a new life.
Tam was her brother, she found out, and that was the only perk to it, she decided. He looked cold and a little fierce like his father, but his eyes held a softness that betrayed his hope. Hope that Linh would accept him as his sister, and that they could be a happy family. No missing parents, just love.
It was the complete opposite. She noticed it early on in the relationship, the first, she thinks, to realise that they were nothing but toxic. Not to each other at first, no. They were still stuck in post-marriage bliss, and everything was sappy looks and hand holding. It started with their children. One snide remark about Tam’s recent test, or a “kind” suggestion on how to improve her horrible hair that day.
She had grown up without a father, and a detached mother for so long, she grew numb to their existence, their personalities. Over time, Tam learnt to do that too.
But that didn’t excuse their behaviour.
It had gotten so bad, however, that she remembered the moment she and Tam turned eighteen. It was nothing grand of course, they still relied on their parents financially, no thanks to the countless years their parents had forced them to not take up a job. But still, it mattered a lot to them, that day in the drug store. They had picked out a hair colour together. Silver, they decided, to reflect on the new people they would become. Calm, composed, and clear. Silver, they decided, a glorified version of gray that was their eyes.
It felt like they were free that day, and it really was the beginning of a new chapter. They had stopped putting up with their parents’ crap, and really, what was the worst that they could do? Stop feeding them? They had gotten jobs already, now that they were legally free from their parents.
Their dynamic with their parents was different from usual families. Tam and Linh were a disgrace to their lineage of musicians, but they couldn’t deny their intelligence. Linh, working to be a marine biologist, and Tam, an astronomer.
Their parents would flaunt their genius to their friends, and they wouldn’t be in huge student debt. Win-win situation.
But Linh never forgot her father’s words, and that first impression was such a large part of how she viewed him. No matter how many times he tried to invite her to dinner, or to one of his events, she didn’t care. Never batted an eye.
Because why should she care if he didn’t?
Linh’s first impression of Marella Redek, on the other hand, was different. She couldn’t place a finger on the very first time she’d met the girl, but the general impression she got of Marella was: impressive.
Every lesson, she was just there, sitting three rows in front of Linh, attentive, the very picture of the model student. She wasn’t snobbish, or arrogant with her scores. In fact, Linh had begun to suspect in their second year of taking the same Biochemistry class together, that Marella had expected it. Made it part of her personality, like she was confident that it was one of the things she would never lose.
You could say Marella was Linh’s role model of sorts.
That day when their team was discussing the day of their first official meet, Linh could tell something was up. She looked tired, and like her mother in the past when Linh brought up her father: slightly stunned, like a deer caught in the headlights, but ultimately just sad, and resigned. She could tell she was distracted, and barely paying attention.
That was when she started worrying about Marella. She could see her losing focus during class each day, and the amount of times her head was on her desk was too many to count on both hands. She didn’t know why she cared, and yet, seeing the one person she looked up to suffer was reason enough for her to fret.
To complicate things further, the day of the first team meeting, Marella walked into the study room looking like she’d wrestled a bear just to get in. A few strands of hair stuck to her forehead, and a frown had made its home in her expression.
Linh watched her scan the room and make her way to the first empty seat she spotted, which was right across from her. Good. That was a good thing. It just made it so much easier for Linh to figure out what was wrong. She looked drained, and unlike the Marella Linh had always admired.
“Okay, so we have to discuss the topic…” Marella had gone into work mode, something Linh noticed happened often with the girl. She could be ecstatic about her grades for one moment, and become focused on the lesson the next. It was one of her many talents, and it did well to hide Marella’s initial offness. But not well enough for Linh not to notice.
The discussion moved quickly from deadlines to methodology. Normally, Marella would’ve dominated the planning. This time though, she looked fine–no, satisfied–with letting Wylie do the talking. An excellent deterrence from the fact that she was jittery, and not quite herself.
Linh could feel Marella’s knee brushing just slightly against hers every time it bounced. Linh knew that Marella knew. And Marella knew that she knew that she knew. The question was, why wasn’t Marella doing anything to stop it? Linh glanced at Marella, who was replying to a question Dex asked confidently, as if nothing was wrong.
Perhaps she just couldn’t stop.
Linh glanced at the clock. 16:03. How has an hour passed already? She could vaguely make out the words of the others, get the gist of what they were talking about. Enzyme activity, cell cultures, the lot. She hadn’t said more than a few words, but Wylie would understand. Marella and Dex too, she thinks, won’t say anything about it. They were too polite.
First impressions mattered to her, and she liked to think people thought of her as quiet, reserved, and shy. Most of the time though, she was too busy in her own thoughts to interact socially.
The snapping shut of a book dragged her back into the study room, where everyone was beginning to pack up. Huh, it’s already over. Not that she was complaining. Linh allowed herself a quick glance towards Marella, who was surprisingly looking at her too. Their eyes met, but Marella was the first to look away, her face a little red. Seems like she wouldn’t be complaining either, Linh shrugged.
Wylie met her eyes from across the room. He was already at the door, waiting for her. It had become a habit of hers, she realised, to walk back with him. It just made her feel safer, more relaxed.
She made her way to him, their steps matching as they walked out. He was talking again, about the meeting. Of course she knew why, it was all for her benefit. One of the many perks of having someone who cared for you and knew when you needed them.
Her mother had dated a man briefly before the remarry. It was quick, only two months, yet Linh had formed an inseparable bond with the foster son of Tiergan. They had thought they would become siblings, Wylie and Linh did during those two months. It didn’t work out though, and Linh would never admit that she was glad that it didn’t in front of Wylie. Tiergan was too nice for her mother, plus if they had gotten married, she never would’ve met her amazing twin brother, Tam.
Linh had a habit of blanking out during social interactions, the only thing on her mind being what was directly in front of her. Wylie had found out about it, and decided that he had to be by her side at all times, if only to help her figure out what was going on. And she appreciated it, a lot.
She nodded along to his words, that they were going to research cancer cells, that they were to communicate via email. But something up ahead caught her eye. Marella, walking and texting on her phone, a frown on her face. Not a small furrow of her brows, but an actual full face frown where her lips curled and her eyes crinkled.
“Hey Wylie, I’ll head back by myself today. Thanks for everything.”
Wylie looked at Linh strangely, before nodding understandingly and walking faster, passing Marella in a heartbeat. She was grateful for that, a smile making its way to her face.
Linh, too, quickened her pace, and started walking next to Marella. She looked up from her phone, and immediately jumped a few centimetres away from Linh. The smile on her face faltered a bit, what if she had wanted to be left alone? But it was too late to go back now.
“Are you okay?” Linh asked a startled Marella. They had completely stopped walking at this point, alone in the hallway. Except, the study rooms weren’t soundproof, and Linh could hear some questionable sounds coming from the room they were standing right in front of.
Marella must’ve been able to hear them too, because her face was beet red. “Uh, I walked in on them just now. Awkward.” She chuckled, but her voice was hoarse. Linh nodded, barely acknowledging the change in subject. Because of course Marella had attempted to divert the topic. Not on her watch.
“You looked a little pale. Something wrong?” Her eyes flicked momentarily to the phone Marella was clutching tightly in her hand. Hm, strange. Was it just her, or was Marella’s hand trembling?
She shook her head, despite her obvious discomfort. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just texting a friend. I was a little nervous, you know?”
The wobbly smile on her face proved as much. Linh fished out a piece of scrap paper from her pocket, before looking at Marella. “You got a pen you could lend me?”
A questioning look was shot in her direction, but Marella complied nonetheless, grabbing a pen from in her tote bag. “Here,” she passed the pen to her, their fingers brushing. Marella flinched a little, but Linh was too busy scribbling something down on the paper to fully pay attention to it.
She passed the strip of paper to Marella. Her eyes widened like saucers when she realised what it was, a bit comical, actually.
“This is…”
“My number,” Linh returned the pen to Marella, who took it with shaky fingers. Weird, but it was probably the same reason for whatever was bugging her. “Shoot me a text if you ever need someone to talk to.”
Marella said nothing in return, only looking down at the piece of paper. If looks could burn, the paper would’ve been burnt to ashes by now. It was getting awkward, the silence hanging around them like a weighted blanket.
“Anyways,” Linh said, a little flustered at the tension, “I’ll see you around.”
With that, she walked as quickly as she could away from Marella. She could still hear the noises coming from that room. Yeah, that’s why her face felt like it was on fire.
***
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.” Marella was going to freak out. In fact, she probably already was. Sophie was sitting across from her, a smirk forming on her face.
“Spill the beans. What happened?”
Marella groaned and slammed her head on the table, which caused a surprised gasp from somewhere above her. Right, Keefe was here with them.
Marella had to move up their meet-up, an emergency meeting, if you will. Unfortunately, that meant that when Sophie texted her “come to my house, ASAP”, she probably should’ve known that she was hanging out with Keefe. But he didn’t seem to mind that much. Mostly he was just sitting there and staying quiet. Good. Keefe was one of the only people in the male population whose presence she could tolerate, and it definitely helped that he was silent while she and Sophie had their “girl talk”.
In Marella’s clenched fist she held tangible evidence of what happened, and as she presented it to Sophie, she could see the surprise and awe in her face. She probably had that exact same look when Linh gave it to her.
“It’s just a strip of paper?” Keefe was looking from the sacred object, to Marella, to Sophie, and back again with confusion written all over his face.
“Not just any strip of paper!” Sophie grabbed him by the shoulder, startling a yelp out of him. “That’s Linh’s number,” she glanced at Marella, “Right?”
Marella nodded frantically. “Exactly. I was just walking, and as you know, texting you about how I totally messed up in front of Linh for the team meeting, then boom! She walked up to me, asked me how I was, then wrote her number for me.”
Even now it still feels like a dream. Marella had been so upset about her behaviour during the meeting. Her leg was jittery, and it kept bumping into Linh’s knee. Linh could definitely feel it. She knew that Linh knew. Maybe that was what she meant when she came up to her and asked if she was okay. Marella had been texting Sophie about the whole thing. She must’ve looked pretty distressed for Linh to come up to her.
Linh was taking the piece of scrap paper from her pocket, asking for a pen. And when she passed the pen to her, oh my gosh, their fingers touched. Marella was almost a hundred percent sure she’d flinched at that moment. She was such a goner.
Sophie plucked the paper from Marella’s palm, inspecting it closely. “The ink looks eerily similar to the ink of the pen you always use.”
“Right, that reminds me,” Marella sat up straighter in her chair, which brought an approving nod from Sophie. “I lent her my pen, and she wrote with it. And our fingers accidentally touched and oh my gosh.” Marella felt like a melting popsicle on the hottest day of summer.
She’d forgotten to ask for the pen back, she realised, but she would give Linh a thousand pens if she wanted. Shit, she was down really bad.
Keefe pulled her out of her thoughts. “Okay, that’s great. She gave you her number. So why don’t you just text her?”
Sophie sighed, shaking her head. “Oh Keefe, my sweet summer child.”
Marella stared at him incredulously. “I can’t just text her!”
“Why not?”
“Because! I’ll freak out then text the wrong thing. Then I’ll stare at my phone for hours waiting for a reply. And then it’ll be so embarrassing. What would I even text her about?”
“Maybe,” he took Marella’s phone that was lying on the table, “Add her number and just say hello?”
“You’re insane, I can’t do that!”
Why was she considering doing it though? Was she insane?
Marella stared at the phone, which Keefe was holding out for her to take. She could do it. But what if she couldn’t? Her hand was trembling as she unlocked the phone. Sophie, similar to her fiancee, was passing the paper to her too. Ugh, they were staring at her so hard.
“Come on, you’ve got this, Marella. It’s just a text.” Sophie was looking at her with anticipation, like a proud mother waiting for her child to go on stage and nail the performance.
Just a text. Such a simple and ordinary word to describe this immense responsibility. Worst case scenario, Linh leaves her on seen. The phone was shaking slightly in her hand. It’s okay, she told herself, it’ll be fine (no, it wouldn’t the moment she texted Linh the world was going to implode and it would be all her fault, at least, that was how she felt).
Slowly, agonizingly, she opened the contacts app on her phone and keyed in Linh’s number. And finally, when the contact was saved to her phone, she pressed the "message" button. She gulped down a few breaths for good measure.
Her fingertips found their way to the keyboard. They flew across the screen, typing, then backspacing, typing, then backspacing again. Sophie observed curiously.
“That’s the best it’ll get, Marella. It’s now or never.”
Marella nodded. Her finger hovered over the “Send” button, and with a ding, the message was sent.
Sophie was clapping her on the back, but she barely noticed. All she could do was stare at her phone, where Linh had just replied. She had sent the message less than a minute ago.
Marella: Hey Linh, this is Marella. I just wanted to say hi. :)
Linh: Hi!
Linh: You want to grab coffee sometime? There’s a coffee shop five minutes from campus.
Linh sent an attachment.
“Wow, she’s quick to reply. Unlike some people.” Marella jumped in shock. She had forgotten Sophie was behind her. She was currently mock-glaring at Keefe, who was looking at her with heart eyes. Ugh, lovebirds. She momentarily forgot about the text. But then her eyes were back on the screen, and for some reason, she wasn’t nervous at all this time.
Marella: Yeah sure! Does 9am tomorrow work?
Linh: Yep. See you.
Oh my gosh. The implications of her actions suddenly hit her like a freight train. She was going out with Linh. Was it a date? It probably wasn’t, but Marella was unravelling anyways. Shit, this was real.
She was going out on a not-date with Linh.