THE GIRL WHO TRUSTED TOO EASILY
I woke up the next morning with one thought in my head.
Malik.
It was ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
The first thing I did when I opened my eyes was reach for my phone.
No message.
I frowned.
After everything that happened yesterday, I had expected him to send something before going to sleep.
I checked the time.
6:17 a.m.
Maybe he was still asleep.
I placed the phone beside me and stared at the ceiling.
Something wasn't right.
I couldn't explain it.
Malik had hugged me yesterday.
He had told me he loved me.
Yet somehow, I had gone home with the strange feeling that he had left something unsaid.
I pushed the thought away.
"Stop overthinking."
I said it aloud.
Then I laughed at myself.
There was nobody in the room to hear me.
I got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom.
By the time I was dressed, my phone finally vibrated.
I grabbed it immediately.
Malik: Good morning.
I smiled.
Me: Good morning.
I waited.
Nothing.
I typed another message.
Me: Are you okay?
This time, there was no reply.
I sighed and put the phone into my bag.
I was beginning to hate myself for caring so much.
My best friend was already waiting outside when I came downstairs.
She looked at me suspiciously.
"You're smiling."
"No, I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm just happy."
"Malik?"
I rolled my eyes.
"Must everything be about Malik?"
"Usually, yes."
I laughed.
We started walking toward school.
"Something happened yesterday," she said.
"What?"
"Your face."
"My face?"
"You looked different when you came back."
I shrugged.
"Malik and I talked."
"I knew it."
"There's nothing to know."
She linked her arm through mine.
"One day, you're going to realize that you tell me everything."
"That's because you're my best friend."
"And because I'm the only person who knows all your embarrassing secrets."
I groaned.
"Don't remind me."
She laughed.
Our friendship had started years ago.
We had met when we were younger, when neither of us knew what life was going to become.
She had seen me at my worst.
She knew how badly I hated being abandoned.
She knew about the nights I cried without telling anyone.
She knew about the people who had disappointed me.
And, most importantly, she knew that I trusted people far too easily.
She had warned me about it countless times.
"You believe everyone," she once told me.
"I don't."
"You do."
"I just give people chances."
"That's another way of saying it."
I had laughed then.
I wasn't laughing now.
Because deep down, I knew she was right.
I wanted to believe that people were good.
Even when they gave me reasons not to.
When we entered the classroom, Mr. Adrian was already there.
He stood beside the teacher's desk, looking through some papers.
The moment he noticed us, he looked up.
My friend immediately became quiet.
I whispered, "Why are you suddenly scared?"
"I'm not scared."
"You are."
"Just sit down."
I smiled.
We took our seats.
Mr. Adrian began the lesson.
For the first twenty minutes, everything was normal.
Then he stopped.
"Miss Lina."
I looked up.
"Yes, sir?"
"Come to the board."
My heart sank.
I looked at my friend.
She gave me a sympathetic smile.
I stood and walked to the front.
He handed me a marker.
"Solve the problem."
I stared at the board.
The problem wasn't difficult.
But suddenly, with everyone watching me, my mind went blank.
I wrote the first step.
Then stopped.
Mr. Adrian crossed his arms.
"Continue."
"I know it."
"Then continue."
I looked at the equation again.
My fingers tightened around the marker.
Finally, I completed it.
I stepped aside.
He studied my work.
"Correct."
A small smile escaped me.
"Thank you, sir."
"Next time, trust what you know."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"You're second-guessing yourself."
I didn't know what to say.
He took the marker from me.
"Confidence matters."
I returned to my seat.
My friend leaned over.
"What did he mean?"
"I don't know."
"You looked like you were about to cry."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
I whispered, "Please."
She smiled.
"Okay."
But Mr. Adrian's words stayed with me.
Trust what you know.
Maybe that was something I had always struggled with.
Not just schoolwork.
People.
Relationships.
My own instincts.
I often knew when something was wrong.
But instead of listening to myself, I convinced myself that I was imagining things.
Maybe because I was afraid of being wrong.
Maybe because I was afraid of losing people.
During lunch, Malik finally appeared.
My heart jumped when I saw him approaching.
"There she is."
I smiled.
"Where have you been?"
"Busy."
"Since yesterday?"
He sat beside me.
"Don't start."
I studied his face.
He looked different.
Distracted.
"Are you angry with me?"
"No."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
I sighed.
"Malik, you keep saying nothing."
He looked at me.
"I said I'm fine."
His tone was sharper this time.
I became quiet.
My best friend glanced between us.
She knew immediately that something was wrong.
"I'll get something to drink," she said, standing.
She left us alone.
I lowered my voice.
"Did I do something?"
Malik looked at me.
"No."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"I'm just stressed."
"About?"
"Family."
I softened.
"You could have told me."
"I know."
"You're supposed to talk to me."
"I know."
I reached for his hand.
He let me hold it.
"I'm here," I whispered.
He looked at our hands.
Then at me.
For a second, his expression softened.
"I know."
He squeezed my fingers.
"I love you."
I smiled.
But something in his eyes made me uncomfortable.
Before I could ask another question, the bell rang.
He stood.
"I'll see you later."
"Malik—"
He was already walking away.
I watched him disappear through the doorway.
My best friend returned.
"What happened?"
"I don't know."
She sat down.
"You look worried."
"He said it's family problems."
"And you believe him?"
I frowned.
"Why wouldn't I?"
She shrugged.
"Just asking."
I looked toward the door.
I hated that she had planted doubt in my mind.
That afternoon, something strange happened.
I was walking toward the library when I heard voices coming from the corridor.
I stopped.
One of the voices belonged to Malik.
I recognized it immediately.
I moved closer.
Another male voice answered him.
I couldn't hear everything.
"…she can't know yet."
My heart stopped.
I froze.
Who were they talking about?
Then Malik spoke again.
"It's better this way."
I held my breath.
I wanted to hear more.
A door suddenly opened.
I quickly stepped backward.
Mr. Adrian walked out.
Our eyes met.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
His expression changed when he noticed me.
"What are you doing here?"
"I…"
I looked past him.
The corridor was empty.
"Nothing."
He studied me.
"You're supposed to be in class."
"I was going to the library."
He nodded.
"Then go."
I turned.
But before I could leave, he said my name.
"Lina."
I stopped.
"Yes?"
He hesitated.
"Be careful who you trust."
My heart pounded.
"Why?"
"Just be careful."
Then he walked away.
I stood there, completely confused.
Why had he said that?
And why did it feel like he knew something?
That evening, I sat on my bed and stared at my phone.
I had received no message from Malik.
I called.
He didn't answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
I put the phone down.
Five minutes later, it rang.
Unknown number.
I stared at the screen.
I almost ignored it.
But something made me answer.
"Hello?"
Silence.
"Hello?"
A faint breath came through the phone.
Then a man's voice whispered:
"Stop asking questions."
My entire body went cold.
"Who is this?"
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
My hands began shaking.
I immediately called my best friend.
She answered after two rings.
"What's wrong?"
I told her.
She became silent.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Did you recognize the voice?"
"No."
"Don't tell anyone."
I frowned.
"What?"
"Don't tell anyone until we know who it is."
"But I'm scared."
"I know."
Her voice softened.
"Lock your door tonight."
I looked toward my bedroom door.
"Okay."
"And Lina?"
"Yes?"
"Don't meet Malik alone tomorrow."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Then why are you saying it?"
"Because something feels wrong."
I swallowed.
She had never sounded so serious.
"Okay."
We ended the call.
I locked my bedroom door.
Then I sat on my bed, staring at the darkness outside my window.
For the first time, I wondered whether my life was as safe as I believed.
I thought about Malik.
Then Mr. Adrian.
Then the mysterious voice.
Three separate things.
Three questions.
And somehow, I felt they were connected.
I just didn't know how.
What I did know was this:
I had spent years believing that trusting people was a sign of love.
I was about to learn that sometimes…
trusting the wrong person could be the most dangerous mistake a person could make.