The world felt drained of color as Arnold walked along the roadside, his books clutched loosely against his side, his steps slow and aimless. He should have been in class.
He just couldn't.
Tasha's last word trailed him like an echo that refused to fade.
Pity.
It circled his mind, louder than the passing cars, louder than the chatter of students heading back to lectures. It was the one thing he hated being seen with. The one look he had fought his whole life to outrun.
And in the end, it was the foundation of his relationship.
A dry laugh left him. He shook his head, as if he could rattle the word loose from his thoughts, like it was nothing more than a bad dream.
It wasn't.
He turned down the narrow street that led home instead of the campus gate.
Classes could go on without him today.
Bills couldn't.
He fished for his keys in his pocket, trying hard to ignore the way his hand trembled as he pushed one into the dilapidated keyhole. He jammed the door twice with his shoulder before the key unstuck and turned, finally unlocking the door.
The moment he stepped inside, he felt the rough flatness of mail beneath his foot. Crouching, he picked it up, already knowing what to expect as he ripped it open. It was a quick reminder that his rent was long overdue.
Without reading further, he shut the door gently behind him, moved to the makeshift kitchen they had created in the far corner of their one-room apartment, and picked up the lighter. He watched the flames eat through every word on the letter until nothing remained but ashes, which he brushed aside with his foot.
He didn't think about the other stacks of identical letters buried beneath his mattress, as if he collected them like trophies, while he changed into his work uniform, his body moving on autopilot.
*****
Macy's Mall Mart was free of most of its customers today, just like Arnold had secretly hoped. He didn't say a word to the cashier, just headed straight for the janitor's closet to grab his scrubs and mop bucket.
"Found ya."
A blonde girl in denim overalls with a popsicle in her mouth, leaned against the closet door, smiling as she waited for him.
"Could you step out of the way, please?"
"Ouch." She moved aside so he could grab his things. "It's not like that was rude or anything, considering I skipped classes to come here looking for you and have been standing here for the past thirty minutes waiting."
He sighed. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Yeah, well, you couldn't have sounded less excited to see me."
Arnold froze midway through putting on his gloves. His chest was a storm of emotions right now, and there was no one else he could open up to the way he could with his best friend.
"She said it was pity. That it's been for a long time."
Arya didn't need him to explain further before she wrapped her arms around him, already understanding. "It's her loss, Arnold. Don't let it eat you."
Arnold gently pulled her hands away, stepping back to create some space. He wanted to talk. He wanted her advice. But how could he explain that it wasn't the breakup itself that hurt most, but the fact that his deepest fear had been spoken out loud?
"Hey." Arya snapped her fingers in front of his face. "It's not the end of the world. Honestly, we all knew it wasn't going to last long "
Warmth rushed through Arnold's chest as his hands clenched into fists. "Why? Because I'm broke? Because you don't think my future is bright enough for someone like her? Because I'm a fatherless older brother with nothing to his name but a half-funded scholarship?"
"No," Arya snapped. "No, that's not it at all. You're too good for her. You're selfless, hardworking, smart, loyal, and everything Tasha is apparently allergic to."
Arnold's shoulders sagged, his anger deflating like air leaving a punctured tire. "You say that because you're my friend, Arya."
"Yeah? Who gets a grade average of 98% in this computer age where everyone's glued to their screens instead of reading? And not only did you top our department, you topped the whole faculty. Three times!"
He just blinked at her, his expression flat enough to show her praise wasn't reaching him. She hadn't expected it to.
"If I were you, I'd be celebrating, shouting those grades to anyone who'd listen—"
"That's exactly the problem. No one cares." He raised a hand before she could argue. "It's not their praise that would make things better, Arya. It's money, and we both know that. How do I celebrate with bills piling up and Zendaya's school fees to pay? How do I celebrate when every lecturer reminds me I'm on a scholarship that can be revoked the moment I defend myself against someone born with a silver spoon no matter my grades?"
"How do I celebrate when I have a father out there somewhere, living freely, while I raise his underage daughter who still writes him letters every birthday, hoping he'll come back like a wish waiting to be granted? Tell me, Arya, because I'd really like to celebrate through all of that." He shook his head, as if trying to force out the thoughts. "Sometimes… sometimes it's just too much to carry."
Arya had never seen him like this. The way the vein bulged out on his forehead, his voice breaking, the constant blinking. She knew words wouldn't fix this. She knew no amount of hugs would be soothing enough, so she just stayed quiet, offering only her presence.
Arnold tilted his head backward, counting numbers to collect himself before looking his best friend in the eye again. "This place isn't going to clean itself. I better get to it."
He gave her a tight smile as he grabbed his bucket and began his work. Arya started after him, but a movement caught her attention. Zendaya was standing just behind them, peeking out from the far end of a nearby shelf, hidden from her brother's line of sight. She met Arya's gaze, her eyes glistening with tears just as a tear slipped.
Arya glanced to see if her best friend noticed his sister's presence, but Arnold was already occupied with mopping the floors. When she looked back, Zendaya was gone.
And it was at that moment Arya knew, with a sinking certainty, that his confession hadn't just made things worse for him.
It had broken something in the one person he was trying hardest to protect.