By Thursday afternoon, Aria felt like the world had narrowed without her noticing when it started.
It wasn't one thing.
It was a collection of small absences lunches she didn't attend, calls she didn't return, invitations that stopped coming because she'd already said no too many times. It was the way people paused before speaking to her now, glancing past her shoulder like they were checking for permission.
Liam's permission.
He never said you can't see them.
He didn't have to.
It started with suggestions.
"You don't really like loud places anyway," he'd said once, casually, when she mentioned going out with friends.
Or, "Why stress yourself when you could just stay with me?"
Then came concern.
"They don't really look out for you the way I do."
And finally absence.
People stopped asking her altogether.
That afternoon, Aria stood outside the student center with her phone in her hand, rereading a message she'd received earlier.
Liam:
Come over later. I want to see you.
No please.
No if you want.
Just expectation.
She typed a reply, deleted it, then typed again.
Aria:
Okay.
The word felt heavier than it should have.
Across campus, Chloe watched from a distance.
She hadn't meant to. It just… happened.
She'd seen Aria standing alone near the steps, shoulders slightly hunched, her expression far away. Not scrolling aimlessly. Not smiling at anything on her phone.
Just standing.
Waiting.
That's not her, Chloe thought.
Aria used to fill spaces without trying. She used to laugh loudly, complain freely, take up room like she belonged wherever she stood.
Now she looked like someone trying not to be noticed.
Chloe closed her notebook slowly.
This time, she didn't look away.
"Aria," she called.
Aria turned, startled, like she hadn't expected her name to exist outside her thoughts. "Oh. Hey."
"You leaving?" Chloe asked.
"Yeah," Aria said. "I'm heading home."
Chloe studied her face. The hollowed cheeks. The way her collarbone stood out more than it used to. The tiredness she wasn't hiding very well anymore.
"You okay?" Chloe asked, tone light but her eyes weren't.
"I'm fine," Aria replied automatically.
Chloe exhaled through her nose. "You always say that."
Aria didn't answer.
They stood there for a moment, the space between them filled with everything neither of them wanted to say first.
"You don't come around anymore," Chloe said finally. "You don't text. You don't sit with anyone. You don't even argue with me."
Aria smiled faintly. "Maybe I'm just tired."
"Tired doesn't change who you are," Chloe said quietly.
That landed.
Aria's fingers tightened around her phone. "People grow."
"Yes," Chloe agreed. "But they don't disappear."
Aria looked away.
Chloe stepped closer not touching her, not cornering her. Just close enough to remind her she wasn't alone.
"If you ever want to talk," Chloe said, voice steady despite everything in her chest, "I'm still here."
Aria nodded. "I know."
She didn't say thank you.
She didn't say I need you.
And Chloe didn't push.
But this time, she didn't retreat either.
That evening, Aria went home.
Her parents' house felt warmer than she remembered quiet in the way that meant safety, not emptiness. Arabella was in the kitchen when Aria walked in, stirring something on the stove. Charles sat at the table with a newspaper folded neatly beside his plate.
"You're home early," Arabella said, turning with a smile that faltered just slightly when she really looked at her daughter.
"Hi, Mom," Aria said softly.
Charles stood. "Hey, sweetheart."
They hugged her, gently. Carefully. Like she might break if they held her too tightly.
Dinner was ready soon after.
They sat around the table, plates steaming, the clink of cutlery louder than usual.
Arabella watched Aria push food around her plate.
"You've lost weight," she said gently.
Aria stiffened. "I've just been busy."
"Busy doesn't mean skipping meals," Charles said, not unkindly.
"I ate today," Aria replied quickly.
Arabella reached across the table and placed a small portion back onto Aria's plate. "Just eat a little more."
Aria did because it was easier than explaining.
The silence returned.
"So," Charles said after a while, "how's school?"
"It's fine," Aria answered.
"Your grades?" Arabella asked.
"They're okay."
Arabella exchanged a glance with Charles.
"Aria," she said softly, "what's really going on?"
Nothing about the question was accusatory.
That was what made it hard.
Aria's throat tightened. She focused on her plate. On the pattern in the ceramic. On anything but their eyes.
"I'm just tired," she said again.
Charles leaned back slightly. "You don't look like yourself."
That almost broke her.
But she swallowed it down.
"I'm okay," she insisted. "Really."
They didn't argue.
That hurt more than if they had.
Dinner ended quietly. Aria only spoke when asked something directly. No stories. No laughter. No complaints about classes or friends.
Afterward, she went upstairs, took a long bath, and let the water hide the sound of her breathing.
That night, she slept deeply but not peacefully.
The next morning came too quickly.
She dressed without thinking. Comfortable clothes. Neutral colors. The kind of outfit that didn't draw attention.
She kissed her parents' cheeks at the door.
"Have a good day," Arabella said.
"I'll try," Aria replied.
The cab ride to school was silent. She stared out the window, watching the city pass like it had nothing to do with her.
When she arrived on campus, Chloe spotted her immediately.
Not because Aria was loud.
Because she wasn't.
She walked straight to class, eyes forward, shoulders tight. Didn't look around. Didn't greet anyone.
She doesn't even see me, Chloe realized.
That scared her.
But Chloe didn't call out.
Didn't chase.
She followed instead at a distance.
Watching.
Waiting.
Halfway through the morning, Aria's phone buzzed.
Liam:
Come over tonight.
No greeting.
No context.
She typed back slowly.
Aria:
I have a lot going on.
The reply came almost instantly.
Liam:
I just want to see you.
Her chest tightened.
She didn't respond right away.
That was new.
She slipped her phone into her bag and stared at the board, though the words blurred together.
Across the room, Chloe noticed.
And for the first time in a long while, she made a decision instead of an observation.
She moved.