Melina's POV
Dad dropped me off again by the gate. His car door clicked open, and the chill of his voice followed.
"Remember, Melina. Studies first. Don't waste your time."
He didn't even glance at me properly, didn't wait to see if I made it inside safely. Just one final nod—cold, clipped, almost mechanical—and then the car rolled away like I was baggage he had finally unloaded.
I stood there for a moment, breathing in the familiar air of College. Deep breaths. That was the trick. Pretend like this was normal, like I was used to being left behind without a word of warmth. Because it was a Usual thing for me. Always the unheard lonely one of the family. I have started to feel fond of the feeling, but the wound stings a little too much sometimes. Well not now.
Freshers' day had already been a whirlwind, and somehow, I had survived it. If I was lucky, maybe today would be a little quieter. Thankfully, I wasn't completely alone anymore. At least I had two friends now—Zara and Dove. My first real friends here.
But I was early, earlier than either of them.
Clutching the novel tucked in my arm, I made my way down the stoned pathway that cut through campus, leading from the gate to my class. The path was lined with neat rows of flowerbeds, an explosion of colors and textures that softened the gray architecture of the college.
Reds, yellows, blues—each flower seemed to glow under the morning sun. Each single flower holding an elegance and grace I wish Humans possessed. Admirable ain't it. I paused mid-step, distracted by their beauty. The longer I looked, the more details I noticed: the velvety textures, the shy buds still waiting to bloom, the way the wind bent them gently without breaking them.
And then, I saw the leaves.
Different shapes, shades of green, tucked behind the bright flowers. Overlooked, ignored, just part of the background. They carried the same burden, but no one stopped to admire them. Nobody wrote poems about leaves. Nobody noticed their quiet strength.
I smiled softly to myself. Flowers and leaves both had their purpose. Both carried weight. Maybe I wasn't the flower people turned to look at—but that didn't mean I wasn't here.
With a sigh, I continued walking until I spotted a stone bench nearby. Since I had time before Zara and Dove arrived, I pulled my book out and sat down. The novel opened easily in my hands, pages falling back to the exact place I had stopped yesterday. A romance novel, of course.
Hehe. Yes, I admit it. Nothing beats reading about two people falling in love—hesitant at first, fumbling, then slowly finding each other. Watching them transform through love always made me ache a little, like pressing on a bruise. Because it was something I only ever saw in stories.
Still, I smiled, leaning closer to the page, already lost in their world.
That's when she came.
Ellie.
Her presence broke the air before her voice did. I didn't look up at first, because part of me hoped I was imagining her shadow standing over me. But then she spoke, her tone dripping with syrupy sweetness that left a bitter aftertaste. Her voice rich in Sweetness with smell of Poison
"I heard you're as pathetic as you look, love."
I froze, my fingers gripping the page tighter.
What? Why was she even—?
I blinked up at her, my mind scrambling for an answer. She tilted her head, lips curved into a mocking smile. "Do you really not recognize me?"
My breath caught.
The scrunch of her nose when she smiled, the sharp edges of her words, the way she carried herself—it was all familiar. My heart gave a lurch of recognition.
Ellie. My little sister's best friend. Even though she is older than me, she was more fond of my little sister.
Back then, she had been sweet. Almost angelic. She'd come over to play, her laugh always echoing through the house. She had been kind to me, back when kindness felt scarce.
But that Ellie was gone.
The girl standing before me now wasn't the same. Her sweetness was sharp, dangerous, like honey laced with poison.
"Aren't you adopted, you loser?" she spat suddenly, her voice louder this time.
Her words struck me harder than I expected. Yes, the wound which stings sometimes.. Is stinging. Too much.
Adopted. Loser.
The whispers from other students around us stirred, like bees in a hive. Heads turned. I could feel eyes burning into me, some pitying, some curious, some entertained.
Ellie smirked, pleased with herself.
But the words left my mouth without my knowledge "At least I got picked while you were struggling to get picked."
My throat tightened even as i was talking back to Ellie like that. I forced myself to swallow. If she wanted me to cry, she wasn't going to get that satisfaction.
.
Her palm connected with my cheek noticeably offended by ny remarks.
The slap rang out sharp and cruel, echoing against the stone path. Heat flared instantly across my face, a stinging burn that made my eyes water. For a second, the world tilted.
The humiliation cut deeper than the sting.
I caught sight of movement in my peripheral vision—Theo.
He was walking past. His figure stood out instantly, tall, effortless, with that unbothered aura he carried everywhere. My chest tightened in a strange, painful way.
Some foolish part of me expected him to stop. To say something. To look at me. To see me.
But he didn't.
His eyes brushed past me like I was nothing more than a shadow on the ground. His expression stayed blank, detached, as though what had just happened didn't even register. And then, he kept walking, each step carrying him further away.
I stood frozen, my cheek throbbing, my humiliation radiating out of me in waves. Why was I even expecting?
Why did I wish he'd stand up for me?
Maybe it was because my own family had always been distant, treating me like an outsider. Maybe it was because Ellie's words sliced at wounds I'd tried so hard to cover. Maybe it was because being the adopted black sheep had never stopped stinging.
Or maybe it was simply the slap itself, the shame of so many eyes watching me and doing nothing.
But most of all—it was Theo. Theo walking away.
My chest ached with a strange, desperate longing. For once, I wanted him to pause. To care. Even just a little.
Instead, a single tear slipped down my cheek, soaking into my skin, betraying me to the crowd.
And Theo's back disappeared into the sea of students.
I didn't know if it was the slap, the word loser, or the silence of the boy I stupidly hoped would stand by me. All I knew was this: the world had proven yet again that I was alone.
Still, for reasons I couldn't explain, a wild thought remained.
What if one day, he did turn around?
He did turn around.
But he is looking straight at Ellie.
" Elliee.. Come.. " with that he just left. Just like that.
.it hurts more than it should.
To be continued....