JUST A FRIEND

The soft hum of the building’s ventilation and the occasional creak of steel pipes were the only sounds accompanying me as I stood quietly in front of the elevator, my eyes half-closed, a soft yawn escaping my lips.

The morning sun had just begun to stretch its rays across the sky, casting long golden shadows through the tinted hallway windows. My uniform was sharp but carelessly worn, the tie hanging loosely around my neck, and my hands shoved deep into my pockets, as if he hadn’t quite made up his mind about whether today was worth the effort.

Ding.

The elevator arrived at his floor with a gentle chime, and the metallic doors opened with a soft sigh.I  paused mid-yawn.Inside the elevator stood Elise and next to her was a familiar face that made his eyebrow twitch—Delilah, smiling sweetly as if the drama of yesterday had never happened.

“…You getting in?” Elise asked, glancing up from her screen.

I  blinked. “Huh. I thought I was still dreaming.”

“Still yawning in your dreams too?” Elise shot back.

Delilah turned to me, her voice far sweeter than it had any right to be, “Good morning, Sylvester. Sleep well?”

I studied her for a moment, analyzing her smile. Polished. Innocent. Deceptive. Then I nodded, stepping into the elevator. “Unfortunately, I did.”

The doors slid shut behind me, and a heavy silence settled among the three. Elise returned to her phone, while Delilah stood with her hands neatly folded in front of her. My gaze dropped to the elevator buttons, watching the numbers blink as they descended.

And yet, in my mind—Click.A rewind.

Memories of the previous day surged like a whisper in the back of his mind. Delilah’s smug little trap. Her twisted logic. The way she twisted my words. And worse—

The fact that she had won.

Even though I brushed her off, even though I put her in her place with that icy closing line, she was still here.

Still in my line of sight.Still in my life.Still in my classroom.

For the next three years.

I could feel my jaw tighten just a bit. A sigh was building up in my chest, but it never made it out.I leaned a little closer to Elise, keeping my voice low so Delilah wouldn’t catch on. “This is a bit strange… should I ask?”

Elise didn’t even look up. “We walked in together. Just a coincidence.”

“An unfortunate coincidence,” I muttered.

The elevator dinged as it reached the ground floor. With a smooth mechanical sigh, the doors slid open. Elise stepped out without a second thought, not even glancing back at us.Delilah followed a moment later, and without really thinking about it, I stepped out too. We stood side by side, our eyes following Elise as she disappeared through the wide glass entrance.

“She’s… tough to read, isn’t she?” Delilah said, arms crossed.

I shrugged lightly. “You think so?”

Delilah shot me a sideways smile. “You’re even more of a mystery.”

Before I could reply, a cheerful voice rang out from across the hall.“Delilahhh~!”

We both turned to see who was calling her.

“Oh hey, Vanessa.”

A girl with red-pink hair streaked with white approached us.

She stopped in front of Delilah, giving her a quick once-over before her gaze landed on me.

“Oh my gosh,” Vanessa said, with a curious face. “Is that your new boyfriend?”

Delilah laughed, and it was a genuine laugh, bright and airy. “No! He’s just a… friend.”

That made me wonder what she really thought of me and what that pause in her sentence meant.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Just a friend, huh? He’s cute, though.”

Delilah waved her hand playfully. “Don’t start.”

Vanessa leaned in closer. “Oh, I will. So what’s his name?”

Delilah tilted her head toward me. “Go on. Introduce yourself.”

I sighed and gave a small nod. “Sylvester Aldric Blackthorne.”

“Ooh~ sounds fancy,” Vanessa said, giggling. “Like someone who burns things and reads Shakespeare.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly but kept my mouth shut. I  hoped for a quiet morning.

Instead, I was surrounded by noise, caught between two girls one too friendly, one too familiar—and none of it by choice.

I felt like fate was poking me with a stick.

And it did not feel good.

The classroom hummed with a mix of hushed whispers and the occasional squeak of a chair. A warm, late-afternoon glow streamed through the tall windows, casting golden beams of light across the desks.

 Mrs. Westwood stood at the front, arms crossed, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk on the lookout for inattentive prey.

Her voice had a sharper edge today.

"Let me be perfectly clear," she said, lifting a stack of printed test papers. "This—" she waved the papers for emphasis "—was not a challenging assessment. It was designed to be a standard-level test. So how on earth did half of you manage to fail it?"

A heavy silence settled over the class, like air slowly leaking from a balloon. Some students stared down at their desks, while others gazed blankly ahead, wishing they could disappear.

"Out of 30 students," she continued, her voice simmering with frustration, "only eight scored above 70%. That’s not just disappointing—it’s downright embarrassing. You are students of Saint Halstead. That name used to carry weight.”

I was sitting near the back, idly spinning my pen between my fingers. I didn’t dare look up. I had barely passed the test, just enough to stay under the radar. A silent average student. A ghost among the honor roll kids.

Mrs. Westwood slammed the stack onto her desk, causing a few students to jump."If I don’t see improvement next time," she warned, her piercing gaze landing on the front row, "we’ll start having mandatory study hours after school. No exceptions."

A collective sigh swept through the room.

"That’s all for today," she finally said, dismissing us with a wave of her hand. "You’re free to go. Those who didn’t pass, don’t leave just yet—I’ll be posting the required study list shortly."

Chairs scraped back. Bags unzipped. Quiet grumbles floated through the air.

 I, being me, unbothered, tucked my pen into my blazer and stood up, already fading back into the background.

As dusk settled over the academy, a gentle breeze carried the crispness of autumn's approach. One by one, lanterns lining the stone paths flickered to life, casting soft glows on the moss-covered pavement.



It was in this serene moment—when most students had retreated to their dorms or study lounges—that I found the message. A folded note had been quietly slipped into my locker. No sender, no details. Just four simple words:



"Come to the garden. – Dawn."



I crumpled the note in my fingers.



Dawn?



I didn’t feel the need to rush. If it were truly urgent, the sender would have been more specific. With my hands tucked in my pockets, I took the long way around, passing the east building and strolling along the old greenhouse wall.



It wasn’t until I rounded the last corner, heading toward the stone arch that led to the enclosed garden path, that I came to a halt.



Someone was already there.



Vanessa.



She stood beneath one of the hanging lanterns, the wind playfully tugging at her red-pink hair. Her arms were awkwardly crossed over her chest, and her foot tapped lightly against the cobblestones. When she spotted me, her head snapped up.



Her expression caught me off guard.



Not excited. Not playful.



Worried.



“…You came,” she said, attempting a smile, though her voice trembled slightly.



At first, I didn’t respond. I just studied her. This morning, she had been bright, loud, and bubbly—just like always when she was with Delilah. But now… there was an unsettling energy about her. Something felt off.



I stepped closer but maintained my distance.



“What’s this about?” I asked, keeping my tone flat.



Vanessa shook her head quickly. “No, no. Don’t worry, I won’t waste your time. I just…” She hesitated, brushing her hand across her sleeve. “I needed to ask you something. It’s… kind of important.”



I narrowed my eyes. "What is it?"



She looked up at me, her face slightly flushed now. Her eyes sparkled—not with their usual mischief, but with a mix of panic and something deeper.



"I—I have a confession," she blurted out.



I blinked. “…Huh?”