Chapter Text
THERE ARE MANY THINGS that Kaia Daio knows—that much is certain. Most of her classmates know her by now, and she isn’t what you’d call a shy, quiet girl or someone who prefers solitude over friendships.
She’s sociable, though maybe not in an overly extroverted way— it’s more of a balanced thing , a mix of being approachable yet grounded. Far from a shut-in, after all, Kaia isn’t the type to shy away from social situations, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t cherish her moments of solitude.
In fact, she values them deeply, finding a certain peace in the stillness that comes from being alone.
Back in middle school, Kaia had a close-knit circle of friends—a small, trusted group who became her anchors during those years. Even now, years later, she remains close to them. But high school brought change, as it inevitably does .
Now a senior at a prestigious university-affiliated high school, renowned across the country for its academic rigor and opportunities, Kaia’s life feels markedly different. Moving away from home and into a dorm had felt like an obvious choice, one she didn’t hesitate to make.
After all, attending Everdale University was a stepping stone, a golden ticket to her future. The university’s name carried weight, and Kaia was already eyeing its college programs, imagining the possibilities waiting for her after graduation.
It was a future she was crafting carefully, piece by piece.
But let’s not stray too far from the main thread before it unravels entirely. Where was she? Ah, yes—her classmates.
In the few months since the school year started, Kaia had already built a solid connection with many of them. While her schedule wasn’t packed with back-to-back classes, she managed to strike a balance between her academic responsibilities and her social life.
Between studying in her dorm and hanging out with her new circle of friends, Kaia found herself settling into a rhythm. It wasn’t surprising, really—she liked to think of herself as someone who was easy to get along with.
Her personality was a blend of shy caution when meeting new people and warm confidence once she grew comfortable with them.
Then again.
That shy side, however, didn’t linger long. Even before the school year officially began, Kaia had already started connecting with her classmates through the school’s group chat. It was there, in the flurry of introductions and awkward icebreakers, that she’d met the people who would soon become her closest friends.
They were the kind of friends who made her days brighter, her laughter louder, and her dorm life less lonely.
Kaia often thought about how lucky she was to have clicked with them so quickly. She still remembered the day she decided to meet up with them in person. It had been a leap of faith, one of those moments where you take a chance, not knowing how it might turn out.
What if she hadn’t? Where would she be now? Alone, perhaps? Lost in isolation, her days blending into nights without the spark of shared jokes and inside banter?
Not that Kaia minded solitude, of course. She had always appreciated the quiet comfort of being by herself, of sitting in her room with a book or her thoughts. But being a senior, teetering on the edge of adulthood and the vast unknown of college life, Kaia understood something she hadn’t fully grasped before: connections matter.
They were the threads that wove her days together, the foundation upon which her high school experience—and perhaps her future—was being built. And for that, she was grateful.
Okay, she’s getting sidetracked again. Forgive her.
Back to the story.
It went like this.
It was around 5 AM when Kaia woke up, still bleary-eyed, her hands instinctively rubbing the crust from her tired eyes.
The faint light of dawn seeped through the blinds, casting soft, golden streaks across the cramped dorm room. Shadows danced on the walls, flickering each time the radiator let out a faint hiss.
Her bed was incredibly warm, making it hard for her to push herself to even sit up. Unfortunately, she had to. Eventually.
She sat up slowly, the bed creaking beneath her, and stretched her arms above her head. A yawn escaped her lips, long and unrestrained. The thin blanket she’d kicked halfway off in her sleep clung stubbornly to one ankle.
Shuffling toward the kitchen corner, her bare feet met the cold linoleum floor with a slight shiver. The air smelled faintly of last night’s instant noodles, a reminder of her usual lack of culinary ambition.
Kaia pulled open the cupboards, their hinges squeaking in protest, and surveyed her meager supplies.
A loaf of bread, three eggs, and a jar of jam that looked suspiciously empty.
"Breakfast of champions," she muttered under her breath, reaching for the bread.
If her attempts didn’t pan out, she figured she could always grab something from the convenience store near the school. Not that she really wanted to. The thought of eating another convenience store rice ball made her stomach churn.
Living in a dorm had its pros and cons, sure, but one glaring downside was the absence of her mom’s warm, homemade meals. Not that Kaia was terrible at cooking, she’d managed a few edible dishes in the past, but the motivation to cook for one? That was a different story.
It wasn’t about loneliness, at least that’s what she told herself. She wasn’t some tragic figure wallowing in solitude. No, Kaia was just... a lazy bum .
After cobbling together a breakfast of toast and slightly overcooked eggs, she settled at the small table by the window. The toast crunched under her teeth, the jam offering a fleeting sweetness that made her wince. She ate in silence, the faint hum of the radiator filling the quiet, occasionally interrupted by the distant sounds of other students stirring awake in neighboring dorm rooms.
Doors slamming close, and voices mingling outside that could wake even the dead.
Once her plate was cleared and the last crumbs brushed away, she stood and stretched, her arms close to reaching toward the low ceiling. She glanced toward the bathroom. A small, cramped space barely large enough to turn around in, and resigned herself to the next part of her morning routine.
The bathroom mirror greeted her with a groggy reflection, her thick, curly hair standing out in every direction like it had a mind of its own. She sighed and stepped into the cramped shower, letting the warm water cascade over her. The sensation washed away the last remnants of sleep, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to linger, relishing the quiet.
After drying herself off, Kaia slipped into the school uniform hanging neatly in her closet. The crisp white dress shirt was freshly ironed, tucked into black slacks that were just a little too long for her legs. She rolled the cuffs slightly, as she did every morning, and shrugged on the black blazer bearing the school’s insignia embroidered on the breast pocket. Practical. Professional. Utterly uninspiring.
But what can she do? This is the best school she had in her slot after all.
She stood in front of the tiny dorm-room mirror, combing through her light unruly curls. No matter how much effort she put in, they always seemed to frizz in defiance, perhaps it was because of all those hair dyes she had been putting on her hair (she’s gonna have to pick up some hair conditioner soon).
Today, she decided to leave them loose. After one final glance in the mirror, she set the comb down on her cluttered desk, grabbed her messenger bag, and headed out.
The cool morning air greeted her as she stepped outside, crisp and sharp against her skin. She paused for a moment, adjusting the strap of her bag, and glanced at the sky. It was still a soft gray, tinged with the faintest blush of sunrise, as though the world was only just beginning to wake.
Her class wasn’t until 7, but she knew from experience that the professor often delayed the start by fifteen minutes, giving students a little extra time to settle in, grab a quick breakfast, or recover from a late night. For Kaia, it meant she could afford to leave her dorm around 6:55 without breaking into a sprint.
The walk to campus was quiet, peaceful even. The streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional hum of a passing car. A few vehicles stopped by the curb to drop off students, their heavy bags slung over their shoulders as they trudged toward campus. Kaia adjusted her own bag and quickened her pace, her mind running over the day ahead.
The school loomed in the distance, its tall, stone buildings silhouetted against the pale morning sky.
Kaia joined the small stream of students, their shared destination tugging them forward like a silent current. Not that they had much choice in the matter.
Some of her peers looked just as groggy as she felt, their eyes half-lidded as they trudged along with slow, deliberate steps. Others clutched books or notes, their lips moving soundlessly as they crammed for some looming test.
The rhythm of footsteps, the soft murmur of conversations, and the occasional chirp of birds melded into a strangely calming backdrop. The world was waking up slowly, and so was she. Kaia inhaled deeply, letting the crisp morning air fill her lungs. For all her complaints about early mornings, there was a quiet serenity in this moment. It was... nice. Peaceful.
By the time she reached the classroom, it was already alive with activity. A scattering of her classmates occupied the room, each absorbed in their own little world. Some hunched over their phones, scrolling mindlessly through social media or replying to messages. Others had their laptops or tablets open, flicking through notes or watching videos. The soft hum of conversation blended with the occasional clack of keyboards, creating a low, familiar buzz.
Her gaze fell on Ximon and Rio, seated near the door, hunched over Ximon’s laptop. Their heads were close together, their focus unbroken as they stared at the familiar interface of Tekken flashing across the screen. Ximon, ever the enthusiast, had brought controllers again. The two were locked in an intense match, their concentration palpable.
“Having fun?” Kaia called out as she passed by, a smirk tugging at her lips. It was hard to resist teasing them when they were so completely engrossed.
Neither of them looked up.
“Yep,” Ximon replied absentmindedly, his voice tight with focus.
Rio, on the other hand, let out a frustrated groan, her heel tapping against the tiled floor in a steady, impatient rhythm.
Moments later, Ximon’s boyish grin widened as the word KO flashed on the screen, signaling another victory.
“Hey, Kaia. Good morning,” Rio muttered, tossing the controller at Ximon with a huff.
“Careful with that!” Ximon yelped, catching it like it was made of glass. He quickly tucked the controllers back into his bag, but not before shooting Rio a mock glare.
Kaia chuckled. “Good morning to you too. Though, I guess it’s not such a great morning for you, huh?” she teased, earning a playful eye roll from Rio.
She waved them off and started toward the far side of the room, where her own group of friends always claimed their territory. The classroom was spacious, but the seating arrangement felt like an afterthought. Each chair had a small table attached, and they were packed so tightly together that weaving through the narrow gaps was always an awkward dance. Kaia carefully navigated through the maze of legs and chairs, muttering a quiet “Excuse me” here and there.
As she approached her usual spot, something caught her attention.
Maria, Angela, Serene, and Ivy were all gathered around her desk, their heads bent close together like conspirators in some secret plot.
“Hey, guys—what’s going on here?” Kaia asked, her brows knitting together as Angela glanced over her desk with a mischievous grin. The others leaned in closer, whispering and snickering like they’d discovered something scandalous.
Maria noticed her first, leaning aside with a teasing smile.
“Kaia,” she said, her tone light but dripping with mischief. Serene and Ivy leaned back just enough to reveal what had captured their attention.
“What’s this?” Kaia asked, a surprised smile tugging at her lips as her eyes landed on the unexpected sight. Sitting neatly on her desk was a small assortment of gifts: several chocolates—KitKats, Twix, Snickers—and a single red rose.
She blinked, momentarily stunned. It wasn’t Valentine’s Day, nor any other special occasion she could think of, so this was entirely unexpected.
“Did you guys buy me this?” Kaia finally asked, carefully sitting down and inspecting the items. There were enough chocolates to last her an entire week, if not more. She picked up a KitKat, turning it over in her hand, before glancing at her friends.
“Actually, it was already here when we came in,” Serene said with a soft snicker, brushing a strand of her brown hair out of her face. She shifted her attention back to her laptop but kept sneaking glances at Kaia, clearly enjoying her reaction.
“Oh,” Kaia murmured, still trying to process the situation.
“So, whose is this?” she asked, looking at them for answers.
“Yours. Duh,” Ivy said with a small snort, tilting her head as if the answer was obvious.
Kaia made a face, glancing between her friends and the gifts. For her? Really?
“Wow,” she muttered, picking up the rose delicately. “Quite thoughtful.”
Maria leaned on the desk, her trademark grin spreading wide. “The rose is yours too, dude,” she added, motioning toward it like it was the punchline of a joke.
Kaia turned the flower in her hand, her fingers brushing over the soft, velvety petals. That’s when she spotted it—a small pink note tucked neatly against the stem, held in place by a tiny heart-shaped clip.
Her heart skipped a beat as she carefully pulled the note free, curiosity bubbling in her chest.
“ Well? ” Serene said, leaning closer, her tone teasing. “What’s it say?”
Kaia unfolded the note, her eyes scanning the neat handwriting.
“ From L ,” she read aloud, her voice quiet with confusion. She turned the slip of paper over in her fingers, as though the other side might hold more answers, but it was blank.
Her brows furrowed as she looked up, her eyes darting between her friends’ faces in search of clues.
“Who’s L?” she asked, her tone hovering between bewilderment and intrigue.
Ivy, who had already lost interest in the ordeal, shrugged, her fingers moving idly across her laptop keyboard.
“Probably someone here in our class,” Serene chimed in, leaning forward, her eyes glinting with intrigue. “We’ve got a lot of people with names starting with L in this block. Could be anyone.”
“ Actually… ” Angela spoke up, her soft voice barely cutting through the buzz of the conversation. Everyone immediately turned to her, curiosity piqued. She offered a small, sheepish smile before continuing. “I saw them put it there.”
“Oh?” Maria perked up, her grin widening as she clasped her hands together in excitement.
“Who is it? Spill!”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Serene cut in, waving her hand to stop Maria from pressing further. “That would ruin the fun. It’s way less exciting if we know right away.”
Kaia rolled her eyes, twirling the rose between her fingers. “Why would it be less exciting? I mean, I should thank them for giving me this.” She waved the rose for emphasis, its delicate petals catching the light as she spoke.
“It’s because,” Serene explained with a teasing lilt, “this person is probably your secret admirer. Do you really want to ruin the mystery?”
Kaia tilted her head, considering the idea. Before she could respond, Ivy smirked, leaning back in her chair.
“I do. Secret admirers are old school,” Ivy said, her tone dry but playful. “If someone likes me, I’d rather they just come forward and hand me the gift themselves.”
“And then you reject them?” Maria asked, arching a brow at Ivy, her voice dripping with amusement.
Ivy’s smirk deepened, and she winked at them. “ Obviously. ”
Serene sighed, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at her lips.
Kaia shivered at the thought, shaking her head. The idea of a direct confrontation over something like this made her stomach churn uncomfortably. As much as she appreciated the gesture, the thought of someone expecting her to react perfectly made her nervous.
Angela chuckled awkwardly, clearly sensing Kaia’s unease. “Well, I mean… I’m not totally sure who it was,” she admitted, her voice hesitant. “They were wearing a hoodie, so I couldn’t see their face.”
“That makes it even better,” Maria said with a grin, leaning forward with renewed interest.
Angela hesitated, her gaze flickering between her friends before she added, “But… I do know they’re a girl.”
A collective “Oh?” rippled through the group, except for Kaia, whose lips parted in surprise.
“A girl?” Kaia asked, her voice soft, curiosity coloring her tone.
Angela nodded, her smile widening slightly.
Kaia couldn’t help but feel an unexpected sense of relief.
A girl.
That was definitely better than the alternative. Not that she had anything against guys, but her history with them wasn’t exactly glowing.
Throughout her life, she’d had plenty of guys approach her—asking her out, confessing their feelings—only for her to politely decline. At first, it had been flattering, but eventually, it became exhausting. By the second or third month of living here, she decided to make things crystal clear.
She bought herself a rainbow pin for her bag and even went as far as to get a small badge that read “Lesbian and Proud” in bold rainbow letters.
It was kind of funny, really. She’d thought the pins would attract women to her, but instead, the frequency of confessions just… dwindled. Maybe the pins worked better as a warning than an invitation.
Still, Kaia knew she was attractive—hot, even, by her own admission. She had the perfect height—not too short, not too tall. While she didn’t actively work out, she often played sports whenever she wasn’t too busy.
Kaia frequently dyed her hair, and this year it leaned toward a strawberry blonde—almost pink, really. She would often let Ivy paint and design her nails, only for the polish to chip away, giving Ivy yet another excuse to redo them.
But for some reason , women had never approached her the same way men did.
Is it because she’s more appealing to men? Somehow, that thought gave her chills, she was more comfortable with women really. She has no problem with guys, but… She really feels that women would understand her better than men.
“That’s…” Kaia hesitated, her fingers brushing over the soft petals of the rose, “better, I suppose. Not that I have anything against men, but they can be really pushy sometimes.” She sighed, pulling out her journal. Carefully, she tucked the small pink note into the back pocket of the book before placing the chocolates and the rose inside her bag with delicate care.
While she didn’t know who this woman was, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t treat the gifts with respect.
Angela tilted her head. “So, do you want to know who she is?”
Kaia paused, considering the question, then shook her head. “Maybe not,” she admitted. “If she wants to come forward, she will. No need to rush it.”
Maria smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Aww, you’re so sentimental. This is going to be fun.”
Kaia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small, intrigued smile that tugged at her lips. A part of her was curious. She wasn’t trying to lead this girl on—not at all—but she couldn’t deny that the gesture had sparked something. A flicker of interest, perhaps.
And so, it began.
After that morning, almost every day, Kaia would arrive at her desk to find more chocolates waiting for her.
It became a routine—milk chocolate, dark chocolate, caramel-filled, and even mint-flavored ones. At night, Kaia would sit at her desk, snacking on the gifts, though the sheer volume of them was becoming overwhelming.
“God,” Kaia muttered one night, staring at the growing pile of treats on her desk. “If this keeps up, I’m going to get diabetes.”
Eventually, she started sharing the chocolates with her friends.
Maria, in particular, was thrilled by the arrangement. “You don’t want these? Don’t mind if I do,” she’d say with a grin, grabbing handfuls of sweets.
But soon, the chocolates evolved into something else.
One morning, Kaia arrived to find a large pack of store-bought brownies sitting neatly on her desk, along with another rose. This time, the rose came with a folded piece of paper tucked beneath it.
Curious, Kaia unfolded the note, her eyes scanning the neat, looping handwriting.
It was a poem:
Your kindness shines, a gentle light,
Like stars that guide the lost at night.
A soothing balm, a warm embrace,
A spark of hope in every space.
With every word and every deed,
You plant a soft and loving seed.
The world feels brighter where you roam,
For hearts like yours make kindness home.
It was… a nice poem, to say the least. Maybe even the first one Kaia had ever received from a secret admirer.
She couldn’t help but glance at it every now and then, the words looping through her mind as she absently traced the neatly folded paper with her fingers.
“That’s cute,” Serene finally said, leaning over Kaia’s shoulder as their class ended. Most of their classmates were still lounging in their seats, chatting idly or scrolling through their phones, not quite ready to head home.
Kaia and her friends had taken up their usual spot at the professor’s desk, perched on the small stage at the front of the classroom. It was where their professors lectured from, but for now, it was their makeshift hangout spot.
“It is, right?” Kaia replied, glancing up at Serene with a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She wouldn’t deny it—the poem had stirred something in her, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what.
“What’s that?”
Kaia turned to see Betty Hu approaching, her blonde hair perfectly smoothed down and held in place by a blue headband. Betty’s curious gaze flicked between Kaia and the paper in her hands as she stepped up onto the stage.
“Nothing,” Kaia said quickly, instinctively tucking the poem closer to her chest.
“Kaia has a secret admirer,” Maria interjected with a wide, teasing grin.
Kaia shot her a sharp glare before turning back to Betty, who now looked positively delighted. “You got a secret admirer?” Betty asked, her voice practically bubbling with excitement.
“Not really a secret since Angela knows,” Ivy chimed in, not even glancing up from her laptop. “But Kaia told her not to tell us yet, for the excitement or whatever.”
Kaia groaned. “Not that. I just think they should be the one to reveal themselves. Besides, Angela isn’t even sure who it is ,” she grumbled, her cheeks heating up as Serene snorted beside her.
“Look at you,” Serene teased, giving Kaia a playful nudge with her foot. “Falling for your secret admirer already.”
“I’m not!” Kaia scooted away, her voice rising in defensive protest.
The room began to empty out as more students filed into the hallway, their conversations fading into background noise.
“ Not ,” Kaia muttered again under her breath, clearly flustered. But the conversation ended there as everyone began packing up their things.
Kaia’s dorm was just a short walk away. Maria and Serene also lived close to campus, but their routes home diverged quickly, so they parted ways at the edge of the building. Ivy and Angela commuted, leaving Kaia to walk alone through the quiet campus.
The air was cool, and the faint glow of the now-opening streetlights illuminated the path ahead. Kaia took her time, her footsteps slow and deliberate as she unfolded the poem once more.
Her eyes scanned the familiar lines, lingering on the carefully chosen words.
She flipped the paper over, half-hoping to find some kind of clue—anything that might hint at who this mysterious “L” was. But there was nothing. Just the single letter, scrawled neatly at the bottom of the poem.
Whoever this girl was, she was certainly doing a good job of keeping Kaia up at night.
Serene hadn’t been entirely wrong. There was a part of Kaia that liked her secret admirer, but it wasn’t the kind of “like” Serene was implying. It wasn’t romantic—at least, not yet. No, what stood out to Kaia the most was how brave this girl seemed to be.
Kaia had always been the type to hold back. Whenever she had a crush, she’d never dare make a move. She stayed on the sidelines, content to admire from afar and, if she was feeling particularly bold, maybe become their friend. But that was as far as it ever went.
For Kaia, liking someone was one thing. Acting on those feelings? That was a whole different story.
Relationships meant commitment, and commitment wasn’t something she could handle right now. Her plate was already full—schoolwork, family responsibilities, and her personal goals.
Her friends, too, were a big part of her life. They weren’t just good company—they were her support system.
They were the kind of people who pushed her to do better, who shared their notes and reviewers, who stayed up late in group chats to prepare for exams. In their own way, they were competitive, but it was never toxic. It was the kind of competition that pushed them all to grow.
Kaia loved that about them. They weren’t just her friends—they were her team. And because of that, she had little room to think about crushes or relationships. She likes to think she’s already kind of fulfilled in life. She had friends, family… you know, the starter pack for every girl like her.
She hadn’t expected to find such a strong bond so quickly. But looking back, Kaia was glad she’d met her group of friends before their first orientation.
That day had been rough—professors standing at the front of the hall, outright threatening them with academic doom as they went over the grading system, the rules, and every possible way to fail.
She’d listened, of course, but most of it faded into background noise. It was the same spiel as always: work hard, don’t slack off, or you’ll flunk. Kaia had tuned out halfway through, finding herself more entertained by the nervous shuffling of her classmates than by the endless droning of the professors.
Thinking back now, though, there was something else about that day that had stuck with her.
In her class, there were only four people whose names started with the letter L. Three of them were guys, and one was a girl.
“Lennox Rivers…” Kaia muttered to herself, the realization dawning on her like a slow sunrise.
It had been a week since she first started finding gifts on her desk. How in the world had it taken her so long to piece this together? The initials the secret admirer left—just a simple “L”—matched Lennox perfectly.
Kaia groaned inwardly, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she walked.
How did I not realize this sooner?
Then again, she’d been busy—her mind preoccupied with assignments, exams, and group projects. While she appreciated the gifts and often thought about them late at night, her brain wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders when it came to non-school-related things.
Still, it was… weird.
Lennox?
Kaia replayed their interactions in her mind, which were few and far between.
Lennox wasn’t part of her group of friends. They weren’t in the same study groups, and their conversations had always been polite but distant.
She remembered Lennox as quiet and reserved, someone who sat toward the back of the classroom and rarely raised her hand. She wasn’t exactly shy—Kaia had overheard her speaking confidently when called on by professors—but she didn’t go out of her way to interact with others.
Lennox had this air of mystery about her. She was tall, lean and her clothes almost looked so loose on her.
Her dark, shoulder-length hair often fell into her eyes, which she would casually brush away with an almost lazy elegance. And those eyes—sharp, blue, almost electric, and always observant, like she was quietly gathering intel on everything around her.
Kaia frowned as she adjusted the strap of her bag. She couldn’t recall a single moment where Lennox had given her a hint of interest—or even gone out of her way to talk to her.
Why me?
The question lingered in her mind, unsettling yet oddly flattering.
As she approached her dorm, Kaia’s steps slowed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. Maybe it wasn’t Lennox. Maybe the L was someone else entirely.
But the thought of Lennox—the possibility that she could be the one behind the gifts and poem—stayed with her.
The words felt different now, knowing Lennox might have written them.
She didn’t dislike the idea of Lennox admiring her. If anything, it was… intriguing.
But why?
Why her?
They hadn’t spoken all that much—if at all. But now that Kaia thought about it, there had been moments. Fleeting, almost imperceptible instances, when she’d catch Lennox looking at her. It was never obvious, but every now and then, out of the corner of her eye, Kaia would notice Lennox’s gaze lingering just a second too long.
The moment Kaia turned to look back, though, Lennox would dart her eyes away, sudden and sharp, as if she’d been caught pocketing something she shouldn’t.
At the time, Kaia had brushed it off as strange, but harmless. Just one of those odd things people do. Now, though—now it felt different. Like a puzzle piece slotting quietly, perfectly, into place. The memory made her pulse quicken, a subtle thrum beneath her skin.
Still, Kaia hesitated. Angela was so sure—the secret admirer was a girl. But what if Angela had been mistaken? What if Lennox had nothing to do with any of it? The possibility made Kaia’s heart flutter with nerves and something she couldn’t quite name.
As if the universe had tuned in to her private worries, Kaia’s gaze landed on Lennox herself, sitting beneath a willow tree near the quad. Lennox wasn’t someone most people noticed at first. She had a quiet, invisible presence, like the background hum of the school’s old radiators—always there, but easy to ignore.
Her hair, a tousled cap of dark brown, barely grazed her shoulders. Some mornings, Kaia would spot her in homeroom with strands sticking every which way, as if Lennox had just rolled out of bed and decided to face the world as-is.
Kaia sometimes wondered if Lennox ever bothered with a brush, or if she liked the untamed wildness of her hair. It looked soft, almost inviting, though Kaia imagined her fingers would get hopelessly tangled if she ever tried to touch it. Not—not that she wanted to do that. That would be weird. Right?
Lennox was hunched over her bag, her expression unreadable, rummaging through the tangled mess inside. Her signature white ear pods sat snugly in her ears, the glossy plastic catching the late afternoon sun.
Kaia thinks that most people in her class had come to associate those ear pods with Lennox, almost as much as her hair—an invisible “do not disturb” sign. It was part of what made approaching her so difficult; Lennox always seemed just out of reach, wandering some private world Kaia couldn’t enter.
Kaia understood the feeling.
She wore her own headphones on days when she wanted to disappear—days when the world felt too loud, too bright, too demanding. The headphones were a shield, a way to control who got close. Seeing Lennox like this made her feel a strange kinship, even if they’d never been that close.
Without realizing, Kaia slowed her pace, her steps faltering. Her dorm was this way, so it wouldn’t be odd to walk past Lennox. But now that she’d seen her, the idea of not saying anything felt… off. Should she approach? Should she ask?
Her mind raced with possibilities, each more awkward than the last. What if Lennox wasn’t her secret admirer? What if Kaia brought it up and embarrassed them both? Or worse—what if she hurt Lennox’s feelings? Kaia didn’t want that. She still had a whole year left in senior high. Wouldn’t that be awkward?
Kaia paused mid-step, half-hidden by a cluster of students passing by. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Lennox stood from her spot under the tree, pulling out a battered wallet.
She moved toward a nearby lemonade stand, exchanged a few quiet words with the vendor, and accepted her drink with a polite nod. Lennox sipped through the straw, her posture relaxed, her expression unreadable.
Kaia’s grip tightened on her bag strap. Should she go up and say something? She wasn’t shy—not really. She could stand in front of a room full of people and speak with ease. But this was different. This wasn’t a speech or a presentation. This was personal. Close-up. Raw. Kind of scary if you ask her.
And she isn’t even that close with the girl! God, talk about awkwardness.
If she confronted Lennox and guessed wrong, she’d look ridiculous. Kaia exhaled slowly, debating. For all her outer confidence, she wasn’t great at these kinds of confrontations—especially the ones that dealt with feelings.
She watched Lennox for another moment, trying to summon courage. They weren’t close friends. They weren’t even “buddies.” But Kaia didn’t want to risk hurting her, either. After all, she isn’t really heartless. And plus, they had another more year together.
Wouldn’t that be awkward?
That’s right , Kaia realized.
Maybe she really should just wait until Lennox herself came clean. It wasn’t as if Kaia minded the waiting—she was more surprised that Lennox liked her at all. Lennox was the kind of girl who stuck close to her own circle, a group that rivaled Kaia’s friends in both volume and energy.
There were eight of them, always clustered together: four squeezed into the back row, four in the front, so they could all lean in, their voices overlapping in a constant, lively current. Laughing, squabbling, finishing each other’s sentences, they were a tangle of limbs and inside jokes.
Kaia herself had spoken to each one of them, except for Lennox. For Kaia, it was an unusually large friend group—she had never been able to keep more than three or four close at a time, and even that felt like a juggling act.
And Lennox, despite being at the center of it all, somehow remained the hardest to approach. She seemed like a shut-in when it came to people outside her circle.
Kaia, meanwhile, had always been something of a half-breed social butterfly, able to flit from group to group. She’d spoken to everyone in her class at least once, even if only in passing. People often reached out to her, and Kaia always gave them the conversation they needed. Lennox was the only exception—the one person she had rarely, if ever, managed to strike up a conversation with.
She could still remember their first meeting, though “meeting” was a generous word. Technically, it happened at orientation, before classes had even started, before the swell of late summer gave way to the start of their first semester.
Ivy was the acting president back then, and had made a group chat for the class. At that point, everyone was still just a name and a profile picture, still strangers to each other.
Except Lennox. Kaia remembered fruitlessly searching for her on Facebook, scrolling through lists of mutual friends and unfamiliar faces, hoping for a clue—maybe a different profile picture, maybe a nickname.
But nothing ever came up. Ivy had even asked Kaia to help her search for the girl, but eventually they gave up. Until orientation day, when Lennox appeared in person, looking entirely out of place, scanning the room for a seat and eventually settling beside Kaia.
At the time, Kaia had been caught up with her own friends, their laughter a shield against the awkwardness of new beginnings. Lennox, meanwhile, sat on the edge of the group, quiet and watchful, almost shrinking into her chair.
She barely seemed interested in whatever the professors were saying, her eyes glazed over with a look that said she would rather be anywhere else. There was a tiredness in her posture, a resignation, as if she’d been dragged here against her will.
Thinking back, Kaia felt a small, rueful laugh bubble up in her chest. Maybe Lennox wasn’t so different from her, after all. Maybe it was time she finally reached out.
Now, weeks later, Kaia watched from a distance as Lennox sat alone on a low wall beneath the shade of a wide, leafy tree, her drink balanced carefully in one hand. She took off her ear pods, tucking them away, and focused on the condensation beading on her plastic cup, drawing absent patterns with her fingertip.
Kaia hesitated, then took a deep breath, steeling herself, and took a step forward. She rehearsed a greeting in her head, something light and casual.
But before she could cross the distance, someone else beat her to it. Adriana Jensen—one of Lennox’s closest friends—came bounding over, all bright energy and swinging hair, arms outstretched. She enveloped Lennox in a bone-crushing hug, nearly making Lennox spill her drink. The sound of Adriana’s laughter floated over, warm and effortless.
Kaia stopped, half-amused, watching as Lennox awkwardly patted Adriana’s back with one hand, her smile small and fleeting, like a secret she was afraid to share. When Adriana finally let go and said something Kaia couldn’t hear, Lennox’s smile faded, replaced by her usual guarded expression, her eyes darting away as if searching for an escape.
Kaia crossed her arms, hesitating. Maybe some other time , she told herself, and shrugged.
With a resigned sigh, she turned away and took the longer route toward the campus exit, the late afternoon sun at her back, painting her shadow long and thin across the grass.