Lena woke up with the taste of last night still in her mouth.
Not literal taste. Nothing so clean. Just a faint lingering dryness. Like she had been breathing through her mouth for hours. Like the air in the room had thickened around her while she slept. The lamp was still on. Forgotten. The textbook lay on the nightstand where she had set it. Cover closed. Innocent-looking in the pale morning light that leaked through the blinds.
She stared at it for a long minute.
Her phone buzzed once. A notification from the campus app. Reminder. Psych 101 discussion section at 9:30. She had forty minutes.
She sat up slowly. Head heavy. Body restless in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The sheets felt too warm against her skin. She kicked them off. Stood. Padded barefoot to the tiny sink in the corner of the room. Splashed cold water on her face. Looked in the mirror.
Eyes a little red. Cheeks still flushed from last night's heat. Lips parted like she had been whispering to someone in her sleep.
She dried her face with the hem of her sleep shirt. Pulled on jeans. A hoodie. Sneakers. Grabbed her backpack. Paused at the nightstand.
The book sat there like it was waiting.
She told herself she would leave it. Go to class. Focus on the lecture. Take notes. Be normal.
Her hand moved anyway.
She slipped the textbook into her bag. Side pocket. Zipper half-closed. Like hiding contraband. Then she left the room before she could change her mind.
The walk across campus was cold. February wind bit at her ears. Students hurried past in clusters. Laughing. Coffee cups steaming. Lena kept her head down. Hood up. Steps quick. Every few strides she felt the book shift against her hip. Solid. Real. Heavier than it should be.
Discussion section was in a basement classroom that always smelled faintly of damp concrete. Twenty-five chairs in a semicircle. Professor Kwon was not there yet. A few students already scattered. Scrolling phones. Lena took a seat in the back row. Habit now. Opened her notebook.
She tried.
She really tried.
But ten minutes in while Kwon was still setting up slides her hand drifted to the bag. Fingers brushed the cover. She pulled the book out just enough to crack it open under the desk. Hidden by the table edge.
She told herself she would just look at one page. Just one.
The entry from October 22 stared up at her.
"Aura brushed mine today. Heaven flash. Gone too fast."
Below it the handwriting grew frantic. Letters crowding.
"When she passes the touch of her aura on mine make me feel like I went through heaven and came back she's troughly and angel working among men I really wish for a reality where I can be hers and she can be mine when I picture her on my mind everything pain and heavy load in me seems to stop to exist"
Lena's throat tightened.
She read it twice. Three times. Each pass felt like pressing on a bruise. Painful. Addictive.
The boy who wrote this had been sitting in the same building she was in now. Maybe the same floor. Maybe this very room. Ten years ago. Watching someone walk past and feeling the world tilt on its axis.
She closed the book. Slid it back into the bag.
Kwon started speaking. Something about cognitive dissonance. Lena tried to listen. She wrote the date at the top of her notebook. Underlined it twice.
Her pen stopped moving halfway through the first bullet point.
She opened the bag again.
This time she did not pretend.
She pulled the textbook onto her lap. Angled so the person next to her could not see. Flipped to a later page. November now. The entries were shorter. Angrier. Like the writer was running out of breath.
"November 12. Saw her with him. Tall guy. Lacrosse jacket. They laughed. She touched his arm. I stood behind a tree like a creep. Went back to my room. Punched the wall. Knuckles bled. Did not feel it. Felt nothing but her hand on someone else."
Lena's stomach twisted.
She flipped again.
"November 28. Tried to talk to her today. Walked up in the quad. Said 'Hey.' She looked at me. Really looked. For two seconds. Then smiled politely and kept walking. Two seconds. That is all I got. Two seconds of her eyes on me. I replayed it for hours. Still replaying it. Two seconds is enough to ruin me."
Lena's chest ached.
She did not know why. She did not know him. Did not know the girl he was writing about. Did not know if any of it mattered anymore.
But the ache felt familiar.
She knew what it was like to be seen for two seconds and then forgotten. To smile politely while someone looked right through you. To carry the weight of small moments no one else remembered.
The discussion section ended. Students packed up. Voices rose. Lena stayed seated until the room emptied.
Kwon glanced at her on his way out. "Everything okay Lena?"
She nodded. Forced a smile. "Just reviewing notes."
He left.
She stayed.
Alone in the basement room. Fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. She opened the book again.
This time she did not rush.
She read slowly. Methodically. Letting each entry settle into her like sediment.
December 3.
"Tried to forget her today. Deleted the photos I took from across the quad. Felt sick after. Like I erased part of myself."
December 10.
"Dreamed of her last night. Villa. Pool. Golden dress. She said my name like it meant something. Woke up hard and crying. Hated myself. Still do."
Lena's fingers trembled on the page.
She closed the book. Pressed it to her chest.
The bell rang for the next class period.
She stood slowly. Zipped her bag. Walked out into the hallway.
The cold air hit her face again.
She did not go to her next class.
She walked back to the dorm instead. Slowly. Book thumping against her hip with every step.
When she got inside she locked the door. Sat on the bed. Opened the lamp.
And started reading again.
She told herself this was the last time.
She knew she was lying.