“Friendships don’t form through sharing the grandiose parts of our lives, but the vulnerable moments.”
….
— Malisa —
The alarm pulled me from sleep, and I blinked groggily, surprised to find the space beside me empty. But what startled me more wasn’t his absence—it was how I felt about it.
You miss him.
The thought surfaced before I could push it away.
I sighed, sitting up, my movements sluggish. That’s when I noticed a sticky note on the bedside table.
Good morning, Beautiful Femme!
I’m sorry I had to leave early—meeting at 8 AM.
Hope your day goes well. Take care!
Hugs and kisses!
I caught myself smiling, warmth creeping up my face. Reaching for my phone, I checked the time—8:00 AM on the dot. Without hesitation, I sent him a text.
Malisa: All the best with your meeting, Aiden.
I was about to put my phone away when it vibrated with a reply.
Aiden: Thank you, Femme! Don’t forget to have breakfast before heading to lectures.
Malisa: Sure. Thank you.
Aiden: Okay! See you soon!
I smiled at the urgency in his tone. His meeting had probably started—or was about to—but he still took the time to reply. Thoughtful. Considerate.
How beautiful.
After freshening up, I made a quick breakfast—toast, scrambled eggs, and a glass of orange juice. Then I picked my outfit: a flowery off-shoulder jumpsuit paired with sandals. Slinging my white handbag over my shoulder, I pinned my hair up with a clip and applied sunscreen.
Before heading out, I took a couple of selfies and sent one to Aiden’s email with the caption:
“Being different with pride.”
Then, I stepped out, walking with the quiet confidence of a queen—because why not?
“Wow! You look stunning, Sis! I almost didn’t recognize you!” Mary beamed when we met at the entrance of our flats.
“Why, thank you.”
“My pleasure. I’m so happy to see your confidence back! It’s really cool.”
“I agree.” I hooked my arm with hers, and together, we made our way to class.
“How was your first night, Mary?”
“It was okay… I felt lonely at first, but then I picked up West Wind by Mary Oliver and read until I fell asleep.”
I hesitated before asking, “Um… has Preye called yet?”
Friendships could be fragile, breakable. Losing one felt like losing a part of yourself.
“She did…” Mary’s voice held a tinge of pain. “But she sounded different. Like we’ve gone back to being friends and nothing more.”
“That sucks.”
“Really.” Her grip on me tightened, and I stopped walking, wrapping my arms around her. She leaned in like she’d been waiting for this—maybe she had.
“You’ll be okay, Kay.”
“I know.” She smiled, a little brighter than before. Funny how much a simple hug could do.
“Anytime,” I murmured before heading to my first class—philosophy.
As I walked, my phone buzzed with a notification. Aiden.
Shouldn’t he be in his meeting?
Aiden: Pretty Femme, the desire to keep you all to myself is getting stronger than ever.
I grinned.
Malisa: Well, turns out… you can’t.
Tucking my phone away, I took a deep breath and stepped into the lecture hall.
Unlike my first day, I didn’t hesitate to sit next to someone. I chose a girl with delicate features that hinted at an American background.
“Hi, can I sit here?”
“Sure!” She immediately made space.
“Merci beaucoup.”
She chuckled. “Still an amateur at French?”
“Definitely.”
“Same here.” She grinned.
“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same boat,” I laughed. “I’m Malisa Bree.” I extended my hand.
“Nice to meet you, Lisa. I’m Audrey Hepburn.”
I raised a brow.
She smirked. “Kidding. Just Audrey.”
“Nice to meet you, Rey.” The nickname rolled off my tongue effortlessly.
We chuckled, the kind of laughter that signaled an easy friendship.
“You’re African?” she asked.
“Yes, South African. You?”
“British-American.”
“What brought you to Paris?”
She hesitated. “A change of scenery, I guess…” Melancholy tinged her voice. I recognized it—there was always more to every story.
“You?” she asked in return.
“Same.” I kept it simple, and she nodded as the professor entered, signaling the start of the lecture.
No bullying today.
I exhaled in relief.
Rey shot me a knowing smile. We’re going to be best friends, I thought. Like, really.
But then my gaze drifted across the room—and landed on him.
The class president.
He was watching me again, mischief lurking in his eyes.
After yesterday’s experience, I already had a bad impression of him.
And I couldn’t help but wonder—what is he up to this time?
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A/N: What do you think, guys?