The next morning, the day began with my usual routine. Heading into the kitchen, I found my stepmother had already prepared breakfast, setting out a plate for me just like every other morning. There was no warmth or cheerful chatter between us. It was strictly a quiet, professional routine where she cooked and I ate in silence. Still, it wasn't a solitary meal; she was right there in the room, maintaining the cold, mechanical rhythm of our household.
Afrer finishing my breakfast, I packed my bag and stepped out into the crisp morning air. Determined not to let the festival traffic catch me off guard again, I followed the exact same routine as the day before, leaving home much earlier than usual.
The strategy paid off. When I arrived at the campus gates, the morning bell was still a long way off, and the lecture halls were peaceful and uncrowded. I made my way to our usual room, taking my seat near the front.
At first, I figured my new friends were just running behind schedule. But as the clock ticked closer to the start of the first lecture, their seats remained empty. Even more surprising, Luca was absent too.
The first class began, and the room felt strangely hollow without them. By the time the lecture wrapped up for a short break, a restless curiosity got the better of me. I pulled out my phone and sent quick text messages to them and to Luca, wondering where everyone had vanished to.
A few moments later, my phone buzzed in my hand.
Luca's reply came first: "Hey Iris, got back way too late last night because of the council meeting, so I couldn't make it to early classes today. I'll be back tomorrow though!"
Shortly after, a combined reply popped up from the group chat with the girls: "Hey! We've got a lot on our plates today, so we're going to skip classes. Catch you later!"
A flicker of disappointment hit my chest. I had been secretly looking forward to sitting with them again, reliving the fun of the festival, and swapping stories. But as I sat there staring at the screen, a quiet realization settled over me.
It actually made a lot of sense. I remembered that our college course was already well past its first year, pushing toward the two-year mark, yet I had never really noticed these girls before. They weren't regular attendees; they drifted in and out, marching entirely to the beat of their own drum. They had probably only shown up because of the festival buzz, and now that the excitement was over, they had slipped right back into their irregular habits.
A soft, understanding smile touched my lips. Figures, I thought. They really are a bunch of fascinating misfits.
Shaking off the mild disappointment, I reminded myself about my own goals. I couldn't rely on distractions or new friends to anchor me; I had to focus on my own path.
The rest of the day unfolded in a quiet, steady rhythm, much like my life before meeting with those odd girls. I attended my remaining lectures, walked over to the campus library during the break, and browsed the tall shelves until I found a few interesting books to borrow. I spent a peaceful hour reading in a corner, letting the quiet pages absorb my thoughts.
By the time the afternoon classes finally ended, I packed up my things, headed to the station, and rode the train back home. Walking through the front door into the familiar, empty quiet, everything felt back to normal, a little ordinary, a little lonely, but peaceful all the same.