Chapter 3
In the Human Realm
"Make sure to follow the grouping and submit your work in the next class," Mr. Russell announced as our English Literature class came to an end.
"Remember, no copy-pasting or plagiarism is allowed. If caught, you won't just lose marks for your project—you won't sit for my exams either. That's all. Have a nice day, students… or not!" he said, leaving the classroom with his usual scowl. Honestly, I don't think anyone has ever seen him smile.
The class immediately turned rowdy as everyone split into pairs. The goody-two-shoes like Brian and Kitty tried to bring order back, but most didn't care.
Conversations and gossip floated around:
"Why does this man always make things so difficult?"
"Probably because he's a sadist. Can't stand happy students."
"I'm not doing the assignment. He can do whatever he wants."
"Same here, I really don't care."
"Psst, who are you kidding? You'll be the first to submit yours."
"Ha! Good that you know."
I shifted my attention from the group of girls chatting nearby when I felt a tug on my sleeve. It was my seatmate in English Literature class—Samuel. Unfortunately, I don't sit next to Stella. I'm usually at the front; she's at the back.
"Amelia, do you understand what we're supposed to do for the essay?" Samuel asked, still holding onto my sleeve.
"Yeah, I understand. What's up? Are you having trouble with it?"
"Ehh, no, it's okay," he said, sounding like he was forcing himself to say something he didn't mean. I kept looking at him, trying to figure out what was really on his mind. "You know, it's okay. You can always talk to me if you need help," I offered, hoping to give him a little push.
"It's nothing, Amelia, really. I'll figure it out on my own," he said with an awkward smile.
"Okay then, if you say so, Sam."
"Bye, Amelia. See you around."
"Bye, Samuel," I replied as he stood up and left the table.
As he walked away, I noticed his broad back and suddenly felt an urge to hug him, to know how it would feel.
His blonde hair was curly and had grown a bit longer. When he turned back to wave one last time, his gray eyes caught mine—mesmerizing in a way I hadn't noticed before.
What's wrong with me? Since when did I start noticing his expressions so much? Do I have a crush on Sam? No, I hope not.
I've always seen Sam as just a friend—someone easy to sit with. Even though he's good-looking, I never thought of him as a crush. Stella always tells me Sam likes me, but I don't believe it. It's not that I have any solid objection against any affliction he might harbour for me, I love the experience of love and happily ever afters, but only through books. I wasn't ready to explore reality.
After flipping through my books one last time, I headed to the cafeteria, just a five-minute walk from the classroom.
The cafeteria was already packed, but thankfully, Stella had grabbed my meal and saved me a seat at our favorite spot. She noticed me, looked up, and waved with a big smile. I walked over to her.
Our favorite table is in the last row, in the first column of the café. We usually share it with other classmates.
"Hi, Stel," I said as I sat beside her. My plate was piled with beef burgers and sandwiches. Just seeing the food made me want to hug Stella—she really knows me best.
"What? Stop looking at me like that. I know you love me, and I'm the best friend ever," she said with a smirk on her lips.
I laughed, and Stella joined in. I really do love her so much.
"Thank you, Stel. What would I do without you?"
"Well, we'd never know because you're stuck with me forever."
"If I'm going to keep getting this treatment, then I'm all for it."
We both laughed again, and I finally started eating—lowkey starving. I suddenly remembered I'd only had cereal for breakfast because I woke up too late. Not even Charlie could save me today.
"Amelia, are you busy this weekend?" Rhoda, sitting opposite me, asked. Everyone at the table turned their attention to me. Now I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to. Damn it.
"Not really, I'm not sure yet. Why?" I rambled on.
"Didn't you hear about the girls' night we're planning?"
"Nope, I heard absolutely nothing." I glanced at Stel, ready to ask if she knew anything, but she cut in immediately, "No, Amelia, I didn't know about it."
If Stella hasn't heard, then that's weird.
"So, Rhoda, what's it about? Who's planning it? And how many people are in on this?" I fired off questions. If I could avoid it, I would totally skip it. Most of these girls always end up in crises and drama.
"Uh-huh, so many questions," she said, grinning. "Well, it's a girls' night out, obviously. Google some activities for girls. Naina started the planning, and about ten girls have been invited already. So, are you in or out?"
Hearing Naina's name sent a chill through me. I couldn't help but remember all the moments we'd shared—the good and the bad.
She was once someone I thought would be with me forever. But it only took one little mistake, and all those beautiful times came crashing down. I felt tears threatening to spill; my heart was hurting so much, I shoved the memories into a sealed cupboard in my mind—one I'd only unlock when I was alone.
I didn't know what to say. Refusing would seem rude, but accepting meant stepping out of my comfort zone—and facing Naina was the last thing I wanted to do.
Before my brain could protest, my mouth answered. And it said yes.
Rhoda turned to Stella and asked, "What about you, Stella?"
"You already know I'm wherever my girl is. So yes, just send us the address and dress code," she said with a confident smile.
We moved on to other topics until everyone finished eating and headed to class.
Stella held my hand as we walked toward geometry class together.
"Amelia, why did you agree?"
"Aren't you the one who always tells me to be more social? So, I'm giving it a try. How bad could it be?" I said halfheartedly, hoping she wouldn't answer.
"Okay, just don't freak out on me later."
"I cross my heart, I won't."
She dropped the subject, and I was relieved—I had my reasons for going, and I didn't want Stel to know about them.
Geometry class turned out better than I expected. Mr. Truman's explanations were clear, but he piled on a mountain of self-assessments due at the end of the week. I also had an essay deadline looming. I wasn't sure how I'd manage it all, but one thing was certain—there'd be no rest for me this week.