The first rays of sunlight crept through Evan's window, brushing against his face with a gentle warmth. He groaned, turning over and burying his face deeper into the pillow. Sleep clung to him stubbornly, dragging his mind through the haze of dreams. A familiar voice pulled him back to the waking world.
"Evan… time to wake up, my boy," came Amelia's gentle tone.
His eyes fluttered open, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming into the room. His mother stood at the window, a soft smile on her face, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. She wore a simple blouse and skirt, the kind of outfit that spoke more of practicality than style, but still carried a subtle elegance.
"Morning, Mom…" he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.
"You've got a big day today," she said, stepping closer. "First day at university. I expect you to be on time."
Her words weren't harsh, but the weight behind them pressed down on him nonetheless. Evan sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. There was a nervous knot in his stomach — anticipation, anxiety, and the constant pressure of wanting to live up to expectations all mixed together.
By the time he had freshened up, the scent of breakfast drifted up from the kitchen. Mike, his stepfather, was already setting the table, moving with casual efficiency.
"Good morning, Evan," Mike said cheerfully.
"Good morning," Evan replied quietly, sliding into his chair.
Amelia soon followed, her hair neatly combed, her blouse crisp, skirt perfectly pressed. She exuded a sense of order and calm that contrasted with Evan's jittery energy. "What's for breakfast, Mike?" she asked, glancing at the table.
"Omelets and toast," he answered.
Amelia turned to Evan, her expression softening. "So… first year of university. Got a girlfriend yet?"
Evan's cheeks reddened. "N-no, Mother."
Mike chuckled. "Don't worry, Evan. You've got plenty of time. Looks aren't everything."
Evan forced a small smile and concentrated on his food, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves that always appeared when his mother's gaze lingered.
After breakfast, Amelia drove him to university. The streets were alive with the morning rush, horns blaring and tires squealing. Evan stared out the window, watching students swarm past, feeling both excitement and dread. The first day loomed large in his mind, each step he was about to take seemed heavier than the last.
At the university, he chose a seat near the front row, hoping to focus better. He tried to calm his racing thoughts: Stay quiet, don't draw attention… just get through it.
The classroom buzzed with chatter as students settled in. Groups of friends laughed, exchanged notes, and compared schedules. Evan felt conspicuously alone. His palms were clammy, and his stomach twisted into knots as he scanned the room.
Lyra, the English professor, entered promptly. Her presence immediately hushed the room. Tall and composed, with long hair falling neatly over her shoulders and glasses perched on her nose, she carried an air of authority that made Evan's stomach tighten.
"Good morning, class," she said, voice crisp and clear. "Today, we will be working on a drama assignment. Make your groups and submit your scripts by the end of the week."
Evan's heart sank. Groups. Social interaction. Panic clawed at him. He looked around, but most students already had partners. He hesitated, feeling the familiar prick of anxiety that always came when he had to speak to peers.
He tried approaching a group. "Um… hi… can I join?" he stammered.
One girl glanced at him, shrugging. "Sorry, we're full."
He swallowed hard and moved on, rejected silently by several other clusters. Each refusal sank him deeper into self-doubt.
When the names were submitted, Lyra noticed him standing alone. "Evan," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Could you stay after class for a moment?"
His chest tightened. What had he done wrong?
After the final bell, Evan approached Lyra's office. Knocking lightly, he heard, "Come in."
Lyra looked up from her book, her piercing gaze settling on him. "Evan, I've noticed you've been avoiding group participation. You're intelligent, but you need to engage with your classmates. Do you understand?"
"I… I'm trying," he said quietly, hands twisting nervously.
"Trying isn't enough. University isn't just about grades — it's about learning to work with others. If this continues, you'll fail the assignment."
Evan nodded silently, the weight of her words pressing on him. Walking home, he replayed every moment of the day, feeling tension knot his chest tighter than ever.