The final good bye

chapter 5:life in JHS

The classroom felt colder that morning.

Maybe it was the rain again. Or maybe it was just the silence between Elisa and Alex — the kind of silence that doesn’t come from anger, but from being too aware of someone. Too aware of how close they’re sitting. How his hand brushed hers when he passed her notebook back. How her name sounded when he called her in front of others — like he was trying to make it sound normal again.

They hadn’t spoken properly in weeks.

Not since that afternoon in the library, in primary school. Not since he gave her the eraser back and told her he didn’t really hate her.

That memory lived inside her now. Quietly. Secretly. Like something sacred.

---

At lunch, she found him in the art room, again.

“Don’t you have friends?” she asked.

Alex didn’t look up. “Don’t you?”

She gave a half-smile and sat beside him, uninvited. She noticed how he didn’t ask her to leave.

He was sketching something again. This time, it wasn’t her.

It was a girl sitting by a window — alone, looking out at a storm. The page was smudged, a little torn in the corner, but beautiful in a broken way.

“Who is she?” Elisa asked.

Alex paused. “She doesn’t know yet.”

Elisa stared at the drawing. “She looks like she’s waiting for someone.”

He glanced at her, then looked away. “Maybe she is.”

---

In JHS, things were different.

The teasing had stopped. People didn’t call them enemies anymore — they called them confusing. One minute they were arguing, the next, sharing headphones on the school bus. Once, someone asked Elisa if they were dating.

She didn’t know how to answer.

Because even she didn’t know what they were.

---

One afternoon, Alex found her crying.

She was sitting behind the school’s science block, knees hugged to her chest, trying not to make a sound. Her dad had called. Said he wouldn’t make it to her school award ceremony — again. Said he was too busy.

She had held it in all day. Until now.

“Hey.”

She looked up and found Alex there, holding out a folded piece of paper.

“What is it?” she asked, wiping her face quickly.

He dropped it in her lap. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Inside was a sketch.

Of her. Standing on a stage. A trophy in one hand, and a smile that touched her eyes. In the crowd, he had drawn one person — himself. Cheering.

That was the moment she knew.

Not everything had to be said out loud.

Some people show up in different ways.

---

She looked at him and whispered, “You’re here.”

Alex nodded once. “Always.”