The days at St. Catherine's blurred together like the ticking of an old clock, predictable, mechanical, and dull. Julia found comfort in her routine, even if it was lonely.
Every lunch break, when the dining hall swarmed with laughter, clinking cutlery, and the occasional outburst from the boys' table, she slipped away. The courtyard was noisy, too, filled with students swapping gossip or rushing to claim the best benches. Julia avoided it all.
Julia always thought of herself as invisible. Not the kind of invisible that came from hiding behind books or walking the quiet corners of school grounds. No. Hers was a heavier kind, the kind that made people overlook her even when she was standing in plain sight.
At break time, she liked to retreat to the shade of a tall mango tree at the edge of the field. It was far enough from the noise of the cafeteria and the cliques gathered in clusters of loud laughter. From there, she could breathe. She would sit with her knees pulled up to her chest, her long, relaxed hair falling like a curtain around her face, hiding the almond shape of her eyes and the lashes that brushed her cheeks. Her lips full and soft rarely smiled in public, but when she was alone, she sometimes caught herself humming songs she'd never dare to sing aloud.
Her uniform, a dull checkered blouse and navy skirt, hung loosely on her frame. Baggy, always baggy. Nobody needed to see that she had a shape, a body that turned heads when she let it. Julia hated attention; attention meant judgment. So she hid her petite figure behind oversized shirts and skirts, hoping no one would notice her.
But someone had.
Bryan.
She didn't know when he started lingering near the mango tree. At first, she thought it was coincidence. He was a year above her, a senior with the easy charm of someone who belonged everywhere. Tall, with a build that spoke of endless afternoons spent on the football field. His skin was dark and smooth, his curly hair always neat, like he'd just stepped out of a commercial. His smile could light up a hallway, teeth white and even, and whenever he passed, girls whispered behind their hands.
And his scent. Julia hated herself for noticing, but every time he walked by, the faint trace of cologne mixed with soap drifted to her. Clean, sharp, unforgettable.
That day, when she settled under the tree with her lunch in her lap, she caught sight of him again. Bryan was leaning against the trunk, just a few steps away, pretending to scroll through his phone. Pretending because she was sure he wasn't really reading anything.
She dropped her gaze quickly, her lashes lowering like shutters. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she shifted uncomfortably. Why was he here again?
"Hey," his voice cut through the quiet.
Julia's head jerked up. He was looking at her now, not at his phone, not at the field. At her.
"Me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, you." He pushed off the tree, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. "Mind if I sit?"
Her stomach flipped. Bryan? Sit with her? This had to be some kind of prank. She quickly scanned the field, half expecting his friends to pop out, laughing at her gullibility. But no one was watching. The noise of students drifted from afar, too far to care.
"I… I guess," she stammered.
He lowered himself onto the grass beside her, his long legs stretching out casually. For a moment, silence hung between them, filled only by the rustle of leaves. Julia felt hyperaware of everything, the way his shoulder brushed the tree bark, the warmth radiating from his presence, the faint hint of that scent again.
"You always sit here alone," Bryan said, breaking the quiet. His tone wasn't mocking. If anything, it was curious.
Julia swallowed. "I like it here. It's quiet."
"Quiet's not bad." He glanced at her, and she quickly looked away, afraid his gaze would pierce through the walls she'd built around herself.
"You play football," she said softly, surprising herself. Why did she even mention it?
He chuckled, low and warm. "Yeah. Everyone knows that."
She bit her lip. Of course everyone knew. Bryan was popular, he was everything she wasn't. He belonged under the bright sun, cheered on by crowds, while she was a shadow, tucked under trees.
"Do you like football?" he asked.
Julia shrugged. "I don't really… watch."
"Fair enough." He leaned back on his elbows, relaxed, as if sitting with her was the most natural thing in the world. "So what do you like?"
The question hung heavy. Nobody asked Julia what she liked. Not her parents, not her classmates. She'd spent so much time trying to please others that she often forgot herself.
"I… I like reading," she admitted, voice tentative.
His lips curved. "Books? Stories?"
"Yeah. Stories."
"Maybe you'll tell me one sometime."
Julia's head snapped up. He was smiling at her, not in the teasing way she expected, but in a genuine, almost soft way. Her chest tightened. Why was he doing this? Why was Bryan, the boy every girl wanted, sitting with her under a tree, asking about her?
"I don't think you'd like my stories," she muttered.
"Try me," he said simply.
The silence returned, but it wasn't uncomfortable anymore. Julia found herself stealing glances at him, the sharp line of his nose, the way his curls caught the sunlight, the way his presence seemed to fill the space. She hated that she noticed. Hated that her chest fluttered when his arm brushed against hers accidentally.
But she also couldn't deny it, for the first time, she didn't feel invisible.
The days that followed blurred into a pattern. Bryan kept showing up. Not every break, not enough to be obvious, but enough that Julia noticed. Enough that she started expecting him.
Sometimes he asked questions small, simple things. What books she liked. Which subjects she hated. Sometimes he just sat there, scrolling on his phone while she ate in silence. It wasn't much, but it was something. A rhythm.
Julia found herself waiting under the tree with a strange, restless anticipation.
And when he showed up, it felt like sunlight had found her in the shade.
One afternoon, when the sky was heavy with the promise of rain, Julia lingered under the tree after class. Bryan appeared again, his uniform shirt slightly rumpled, football boots dangling from his hand.
"You hiding from the storm?" he teased.
"Maybe." She hugged her books closer.
He studied her for a moment, his gaze softer than usual. "You know… you don't have to hide."
Her heart stumbled. She didn't know if he meant the rain, or something more.
Before she could reply, thunder rumbled, and fat raindrops began to fall. Bryan laughed, the sound bright against the darkening sky. He grabbed her hand without thinking, tugging her toward the covered walkway nearby.
Julia froze at the contact, the warmth of his hand swallowing hers. Her lips parted, her breath catching. Bryan didn't let go until they reached shelter, both slightly damp, both laughing.
For the first time in years, Julia wasn't thinking about her baggy uniform, her insecurities, or the brokenness of her home.
She was thinking about Bryan.
And that terrified her more than the storm.