I had to go home to my aunt here in Freiburg, but Mom called the mistress and said she will come to pick me up tomorrow so we can go home together to France. She said my siblings will come too because it will be Easter break soon, so we can share it as a family. Thank God, because I missed Orly—our hometown—so much. I also wanted to be there for Mary's birthday, but I had already left my gift with Leah so she could give it to Mary for me, and I was happy because Rafael had taken my idea of doing a small party in the canteen. It was unusual at our school to celebrate birthdays on campus; they normally shifted them to the holidays.
"Salut!!" I said to the new librarian in the old library. "Salut, Anna! How're you???" she replied. "Cool," I answered, already moving toward my favorite spot in the corner where no one could ever see me. Besides, hardly anyone ever came into this library anyway. It was filled with old fantasy romance novels, which I love the most, along with some real-life love stories of our ancestors and other people in history. It was fantastic, even though most teens didn't like it—but I do. Besides, they are all dark romance and erotica, which I can't read in a room full of people.
After only God knows how long, the librarian came back and said, "It's lunchtime. Aren't you going?" "Nope," I replied, silently praying that she wouldn't ask me to leave, which worked because she smiled and said, "I'm going to close. I'll open again when I come back. I hope you have no problem staying in a huge, closed library alone." I nodded, and she left me there. A problem?! I hadn't even noticed her until she tapped my shoulder.
I spent the whole day in the library reading, losing track of time until the evening when I suddenly remembered it was Mary's birthday party. It was already past the time it was supposed to start, so I assumed it had already begun, and I had to be there before it ended. As I approached the canteen, Ya Levis ' songs were hitting through the speakers, and that was when I knew people were already dancing—slow dancing. It made me hesitate for a second, but then I reminded myself that my friendship with Mary shouldn't be compared to the awkwardness of standing alone in the middle of a crowd of dancing duos. So I pushed the door open, and boom—I stepped inside only to find Mary clinging to Rafael, dancing to whatever song was playing. Watching them, even the Ya Levis song—which is my favorite—seemed to fade into silence. Fuck this. I hated when my thoughts went there, especially when I couldn't do anything about it. Lost in my own head, I didn't even realize I had become the center of attention, standing there in the doorway in my uniform skirt and the huge white sweater I had bought last Christmas, while everyone else wore their best non-uniform outfits. The realization hit me all at once, and I immediately turned to leave, feeling like I was ruining their moment, their vibe. But out of nowhere, an arm caught my wrist, stopping me before I could take another step.
Elliot. He held my wrist so tightly, forcing me to turn back before pulling me toward him, and suddenly we were dancing. He guided me easily because I normally didn't slow dance with anyone, and I pushed everyone's gaze—and whatever they were thinking about me dancing this close, this sensual with Elliot—aside. I just danced like I didn't give a fuck, and honestly, I didn't. I didn't care if anyone was watching or wondering what had gotten into me, because I had always played this game with Elliot—hide and seek, avoiding him whenever he threw himself at me, only to let him get close again. But sometimes, deep down, I told myself that if only he truly loved me, not just wanted to have fun, I would have given him a chance, because he was damn fine, to be honest.
"You do got moves, you know," Elliot whispered in my ear, and I just smiled without saying a thing. Then the music changed to an Afro dance beat, and I slipped away to join the circle of my girls, because that was what I needed after all the chaos in my head. I told them I'll go home tomorrow with my mom, and they all got disappointed because they thought I would still be around for Leah's birthday, but I couldn't. So we danced our bodies out until it was bedtime and everyone started saying goodnight to each other. I finally got the chance to go to Mary, wish her all the best, and give her a goodbye kiss, knowing we wouldn't see each other before I leave in the morning. Then I looked at Rafael and simply nodded, and he winked back at me before Ieave them there. That small exchange stayed with me longer than it should have. After that, we headed back to the dorms, with some boys walking us to the girls' dorm gate before turning back to theirs. Inside the dorm, I could feel the whispers immediately. I didn't need to hear them to know what they were about—how I had almost walked out when I saw Rafael dancing with Mary, how Elliot had caught me and pulled me into the dance, how close we had been, how sensual it looked. Some were probably judging; others were just curious. I didn't care. Or at least, I tried not to. It got too much after a while, so I stepped out and sat on the couch near the entrance, needing air, needing silence. When the dorm finally quieted down and everyone went to bed, I went back inside too. I lay down, whispered a quick prayer, and sleep took me almost immediately.
I didn't fall asleep as fast as I wanted to. My body was tired, my eyes heavy, but my mind refused to rest, replaying everything that had happened tonight as if it was afraid I would forget even the smallest detail. Elliot's hands on me, the way he had pulled me back without asking, the way I had let him… the way I hadn't even tried to resist. I shifted slightly under the blanket, staring into the darkness, my thoughts refusing to slow down. I couldn't fight the thought that at some point I had wanted to be dancing with Rafael instead of Elliot. That realization alone made my chest tighten. I turned my head to the side, letting out a slow breath, almost annoyed at myself. This wasn't supposed to matter. He wasn't mine. He was never mine. And yet… there was a moment—just a moment—where everything felt wrong, like I was standing in the wrong place, with the wrong person, moving to the wrong rhythm. I pressed my lips together, trying to push the thought away, but it only came back stronger. There was even a time earlier tonight when I had wished Mom had just let me go today, even if it meant taking the train straight to Orly and spending the entire night alone in our big family house. At least there, I wouldn't have seen anything. I wouldn't have felt this. I closed my eyes tightly, as if that could erase the images still playing in my head—Mary's hands on him, the way they moved together so naturally, the way he hadn't let go. That was what hurt the most, even if I didn't want to admit it. I rolled onto my other side, pulling the blanket closer, almost as if I was trying to hide from my own thoughts. With Elliot, everything was easy—too easy. Loud, playful, distracting. But with Rafael… it was quiet, dangerous, something I didn't understand and couldn't control. And maybe that was exactly why I kept thinking about it. I let out a soft breath, my body finally beginning to give in to the exhaustion, even if my mind was still somewhere else, stuck between what happened and what I wished hadn't. Tomorrow I will leave. That thought should have been comforting. Distance, silence, home—everything would go back to normal. That was what I told myself as sleep slowly took over. But right before I drifted off, one last thought slipped through, soft but impossible to ignore. If I really didn't care… why did it feel like I was running away? Like I'm afraid of what would happen next.
I woke up earlier than I needed to, long before the dorm started coming back to life. The room was still, heavy with sleep, the kind that made every small movement feel louder than it should. For a second, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet wrap around me before reality slowly settled back in. Today, I was leaving. The thought didn't hit as hard as I expected, but it didn't feel light either. It just sat there, somewhere in my chest, calm but present, like something I couldn't ignore even if I tried. I moved quietly, careful not to wake the others, gathering my things with slow, deliberate motions, like stretching time for no reason other than I wasn't ready to rush it. My uniform lay neatly folded from the night before, and I had already half-packed my bag, as if a part of me had prepared to leave even before I admitted it to myself. When I finally stepped out of the dorm, the chill morning air hit my face gently, waking me up in a way sleep hadn't. The school looked different at that hour—empty, almost peaceful, as if it had nothing to do with the noise and emotions it held just a few hours ago. I walked through the courtyard without stopping, my steps steady, my thoughts quieter than they had been all night. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to do. I had already said goodbye. Still, I couldn't help but glance once toward the canteen, the place where everything had shifted without warning. It looked so normal now, like nothing had happened, like I hadn't stood there watching something I wasn't supposed to feel. I looked away almost immediately, tightening my grip on my bag before continuing toward the gate. Still distracted, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going when I suddenly walked straight into someone. My head hit a hard chest, and the impact made me take a quick step back, my breath catching for a second. But before I could even look up, I smelled it—his scent. Rafael. It hit me instantly, familiar and unsettling, like something my body recognized before my mind could even process it. I pulled back immediately, almost too fast, as if the distance between us mattered more than anything else in that moment. My heart started beating harder than it should have, and I couldn't control it. I slowly lifted my eyes, already knowing what I would see. He was standing right in front of me, placed there as if to ruin the calm I had been trying to build since last night. For a second, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched, heavy and charged, filled with everything we weren't saying. I tried to move past him, quick, controlled—but he didn't move. Instead, he stood right in my way, not aggressively, not even intentionally, but enough to stop me. The space between us was almost nothing. We stayed like that for a moment, caught in a gaze that neither of us seemed able to break. I could hear my heartbeat, feel the tension pressing in from every side, and I hated how familiar it felt. Then, as if something in him snapped back into place, he cleared his throat slightly and took a step aside. "Sorry," he said, his voice low, almost restrained. I nodded quickly, not trusting myself to speak, and walked past him, pretending like it was nothing. But even as I moved away, I could still feel it—the warmth of that brief contact, the weight of his presence lingering longer than it should have. And that was exactly why I needed to leave. When I finally saw Mom, I forced a smile onto my face and hugged her tightly, holding on just a little longer than usual before letting go. Then we took off.