Morning came too fast.
Matteo woke up in Amir and Leo's dorm, staring at a ceiling that wasn't his, listening to breathing that wasn't familiar. For a moment, he forgot everything—until memory rushed back all at once.
The argument.
Maliya's face.
The way everything had fallen apart.
He sat up, already restless.
After assembly, while everyone moved toward their classes, Matteo did the opposite.
He ran.
"Maliya!"
She turned at the sound of her name, clearly not expecting him. Her steps slowed, then stopped altogether. The hallway buzzed with students passing, but for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them.
"I need to talk to you," Matteo said, slightly out of breath.
Maliya hesitated, then nodded.
They stepped aside, near the lockers.
"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "For everything. For what I said. For how I acted. I shouldn't have—"
"It's fine," she interrupted quickly. "I forgive you."
But Matteo didn't relax.
Instead, he looked at her carefully
.
"No," he said quietly. "It's not."
Maliya frowned. "What?"
"You say you forgive me," he continued, "but you've been avoiding me. You won't look at me the same way. You won't talk to me unless you have to."
She opened her mouth to argue.
Then closed it.
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
The silence stretched.
Finally, she spoke—soft, honest, unguarded.
"You opened something I didn't want reopened," she said. "Something old."
Matteo's chest tightened.
"The way you looked at me," she continued, voice barely steady, "it felt like I didn't belong here. Like I was pretending to be someone I'm not. Like I was… out of place."
She swallowed.
"That hurt more than you know."
Matteo felt it then—the weight of it. Not just the words, but what they carried.
Guilt.
Regret.
He inhaled slowly.
Then exhaled.
And for the first time, he didn't hide.
"Okay," he said. "Then let me tell you the truth."
She looked up.
He met her eyes directly.
"I like you."
She froze.
"What?" she whispered.
"Not just as a friend," he said quickly, almost afraid he'd lose the courage if he paused. "I like like you."
Her mind stalled.
Everything went quiet.
"I know my situation isn't great right now," he continued, voice steady but strained. "And I know this isn't the best time. But I needed you to know."
He took a step back.
"I'm really sorry," he said. "And I hope—someday—you find a place in your heart to truly forgive me."
Before she could say anything—
He turned and walked away.
Maliya stayed where she was.
Stunned.
The hallway moved around her, but she couldn't move at all.
After a moment that felt too long, she rushed into the nearest restroom, splashed water on her face, stared at her reflection.
Then she straightened.
And went to class.
Matteo never showed up.
Not to first period.
Not to second.
Not to lunch.
By the time the cafeteria filled and his seat remained empty, everyone noticed.
"Where's Matteo?" Leo asked.
Amir frowned. "He hasn't been answering."
Khadija looked uneasy. "This isn't like him."
Amir stood. "I'll check the dorm. Maybe he went back."
He moved fast, heart pounding with a feeling he didn't want to name.
The dorm was empty.
Matteo's bed—untouched.
His bag—gone.
Amir checked again.
Then again.
Nothing.
He ran.
Back to the others.
"He's not there," Amir said, breathless. "His things are gone."
Shock hit all of them at once.
They didn't speak.
They just moved.
Straight to the principal's office.
The principal listened quietly.
Then nodded.
"Yes," he said. "Matteo came to me earlier today."
Their hearts sank.
"He said he needed to leave—for now," the principal continued. "He asked that everything about him remain confidential."
Maliya's hands clenched.
"But," the principal added, opening a drawer, "he asked me to give you this."
He handed her an envelope.
Her name was written on it.
She took it with shaking fingers.
They walked out together, silent, heavy.
Maliya opened the letter.
Her eyes moved quickly.
Then slowly.
Her breath caught.
She didn't read it aloud.
She didn't have to.
The message was clear enough.
Matteo had gone back.
Back to his father.
Not because it was easy.
But because he didn't want them to carry his weight.
That night, no one spoke much.
They sat together, broken, exhausted, hearts aching in different ways.
They didn't know what would happen next.
All they could do was wait.
And pray.
That wherever Matteo was—
He was safe.