Recess.
I'm at the canteen right now, sitting alone at the farthest table. It's quiet—except for the crinkling of my lunch's plastic wrap and the subtle rustle of frustration that still hasn't left since this morning.
Once again, I'm talking to myself while writing in my diary. Classic Kiera.
"Those two really have some nerve," I whispered, even though no one else could hear.
While I was busy ranting to myself, I suddenly froze. I paused mid-bite of my sandwich when someone spoke behind me.
"You look stressed. What's bothering you this time?"
I turned around. It was Aira.
"Oh... it's you. What are you doing here?" I was a bit surprised, but I couldn't hide the slight happiness in my voice.
"Just passing by. Visitor mode. I just wanted to see your campus and of course... my roommate." She smiled.
Even though I didn't feel like talking because of how pissed I was, she somehow lightened the load a bit.
"But... why does my new friend already look so upset?" she asked, giving me a playful pinch on the arm.
"What happened?"
"But... why does my new friend already look so upset?" she repeated, this time in a gentler tone. "What happened?" A question that carried genuine interest—the kind that was ready to listen, no matter how long or messy the story might be.
I looked at my fries. Then I took a deep breath and started talking.
"I almost got hit by a car earlier," I began, trying to calm myself as I told the story. "On the way to school, everything was chill. The day even started out nice—fresh, quiet, everything felt calm. Then suddenly, a car came speeding from behind."
Didn't even slow down. It hit me on the side. My elbow still hurts, but my pride hurts more."
Aira's expression turned serious. "Oh my god. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. But here's what really pissed me off." I looked her straight in the eyes. "The driver got out. And instead of apologizing, he got angry. Like, he asked what the hell I was doing in the street. As if he owns the road. I was the one who almost died, but somehow, I was the one at fault. It's insane."
"What an asshole," Aira blurted out. "You nearly got run over and you're the one getting blamed?"
I nodded firmly. "And that's not even the worst part."
"He had a girlfriend. She got out too. Super extra. Looked like she was about to shoot a commercial with all that makeup, and the way she talked—it was like I had ruined her entire life."
I paused for a moment, then continued. "What's worse... they're studying here now."
I looked down, trying to hide the sadness clinging to those words.
"I know I'll have to face the people who don't even know how to own up to their mistakes—every single day."
Aira didn't speak right away. She just stared at me, as if swallowing the anger that was slowly boiling up inside her.
Then suddenly—smack! She slammed her hand on the table and stood up. I flinched in surprise.
"That's not okay," she said firmly, her brows furrowed. The anger on her face—it was like she was the one who almost got hit. "They have no right to treat you like that. You don't deserve that."
"Wait, where are you going?" I asked, a bit worried.
"I'm going to stand up for you. I'm not letting this slide," she said seriously. "I'm not going to sit back while they treat you like trash."
She started walking toward the classroom, and I couldn't even stop her.
"Which room? Are they here? Are they in this building?" she asked one after another, clearly hyped and restless.
We were just about to reach the classroom when Aira suddenly stopped walking. Her eyes were fixed on the door—Samantha and Axel were standing there. She didn't say a word. She just pulled me back quickly, yet gently, like she didn't want to make a scene. I could feel the tension in her hand gripping my arm.
It was like a switch had flipped—from fiery and bold, to frozen in place.
"What's that? I thought you were gonna stand up for me?" I asked with a laugh.
"What are they doing here?" she asked, her voice sharp and direct, as if she still couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"Who? Samantha? Yeah, those are the ones I was telling you about—the ones who almost hit me, then blamed me. Do you know them?"
She slowly looked at me. I saw it in her eyes—it wasn't just anger there. It was pain.
"Remember the story I told you? About my ex who played with me? Because of his girlfriend's little game?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"That's them," she whispered, so softly I almost didn't hear it over the pounding of my heart.