The street was tinted gold by the fading autumn sun, the kind that made the world look softer than it really was. Dry leaves crackled under Elena's shoes as she hurried down the narrow lane, clutching her books close to her chest
She'd lost track of time again.
The library clock had struck six when she finally looked up from her notes — and now, the sky was blushing into dusk. Her mother's voice replayed in her head like a warning bell:
"Come home early today, Elena. The guests are coming for dinner, and I need your help in the kitchen."
Elena groaned under her breath. She didn't even ask who the guests were.
Who could they be? She wondered.
"Oh God! Please don't let it be the Browns!" She prayed as she paced towards her house quickly.
"I can't handle the pressure they put on me, always comparing me to their son! Not tonight please!"
The Browns were nice enough, but their son was studying finance at some big university, and every time they came over, her parents' smiles stretched a little too wide. They didn't mean harm — they just wanted her to "learn from someone ambitious." She didn't care about him less as he couldn't come to her parents house for the last five years. She didn't even remember what he looked like now.
She was ambitious. Just not in the loud, confident way people expected.She was more of an introvert.
Her ambition lived quietly between library shelves and pages filled with neat columns of numbers. She liked how predictable numbers were — no surprises, no confusion, no mixed signals. Just rules.
Unlike people.
A cold breeze danced through the alley, tugging strands of hair from her ponytail making stray hair fall on her face. She shifted her bag and quickened her pace.
Her phone buzzed. She pulled out her phone from the pocket of her jeans.
" A reminder."
Deadline: Submit project draft by 8:00 PM tomorrow.
"Perfect timing," she muttered. Between cooking dinner, serving guests, and surviving small talk, she doubted she'd have a moment to breathe – let alone finish her project tonight.
"It's all going to be fine", she reassured herself,
"I'll have it done by tomorrow afternoon, There's not much left anyway."
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she missed the green signal at the crossing and stepped into the road. A driver, only a few yards away honked loudly, tires screeching as it stopped right in front of her.
Startled, she stumbled and she fell on the road.
She tried to get up quickly but floundered. She tried to regain her balance but her ankle throbbed – she couldn't put weight on it and collapsed again. The driver jumped out and rushed to help, gathering her books and offering his hand.
She thanked him mindlessly for his help, she was mortified to meet his eyes. Her ankle hurt from walking, she might have twisted her ankle again. She was clumsy as always. With the free hand she quickly brushed off the leaves, cleaned dirt from her jeans and shirt.
He helped her across the road and asked if she lived close by. She just nodded. She couldn't look at him.
At the end of crossing, she looked up at him– tear-streaked and flustered. He was young- around twenty-five or so, looked strikingly handsome in this suit. He looked at her with a sympathetic expression.
"It can happen to anyone, don't worry!", he said gently.
He was kind, his eyes were pale blue with warmth in them.
She quickly looked away.
But are you alright? I mean you are stumbling!" With a worried expression. " Can I drive you to you home or something?"
He had empathy. Kindness. A rare breed, this man is!
"No thank you, I appreciate the gesture – you've been kind enough to help already. I can take it from here," she replied with a small smile.
He paused for a brief moment, nodded – making his lips thin in disapproval, returned to his car. She limped the rest of the way home.
By the time she reached her gate, the sky was deep blue, scattered with thin clouds. Warm light spilled from the kitchen window. She could hear her mother's laughter mingled with the sound of chopping vegetables.
She paused, catching reflection of herself in the car window, tucked her stray hair behind her ears. She looked clean enough, she just had to walk properly so nobody would notice. She took a long deep breath before stepping inside.
"Finally!" her mother exclaimed the moment she entered. "You are late, young lady. Go wash up quickly — they'll be here any minute!"
Elena nodded and slipped off her shoes. "Sorry, the library took longer than I thought." She blinked her eyes to fight back the mist forming in her eyes.
Her father looked up from his phone. "You and your books. Someday, you'll forget your own birthday in that library."
"Maybe that's the plan," she replied with a small smile, heading toward the sink.
She washed her hands and face quickly, her mind wasn't on dinner or guests — it was on her laptop, sitting on her desk upstairs.
Her unfinished spreadsheet. Her half-written notes.
She won't have time to finish it tonight if she stayed with the guests for long.
She would have to find an excuse to take leave from them.
She wasn't sure what unsettled her more — the unfinished project upstairs or the feeling that her life was becoming one long checklist.
She liked her life like a spreadsheet — neat, calculated and predictable.
But she didn't like it being constantly under review – judged by her parents. Their likings and dislikings, approvals and disapprovals.
It made her life stagnant.
She needed to do something about it…