Rumors Don’t Apologize
1151 Words
By the next morning, I already knew something was off.
Not because anything had changed in my routine.
But because of the way people were looking at me.
It started with whispers.
Soft ones.
The kind that stop the moment you walk closer, but somehow feel louder than actual words.
I noticed it first outside the faculty building.
Two girls standing near the stairs.
One of them glanced at me, leaned in, and whispered something.
Then they both looked away too quickly.
I tightened my grip on my bag and kept walking.
“Amira!”
Zainab’s voice cut through the noise like relief.
I turned immediately.
She was rushing toward me, face already twisted like she had something urgent to say.
“What is it?” I asked.
She didn’t slow down. “We need to talk.”
“That sounds like something bad.”
“It is something bad.”
I stopped walking. “Zainab.”
She grabbed my arm lightly and pulled me aside, away from the crowd.
“Okay,” she said, lowering her voice. “Something is going around.”
I frowned. “About me?”
She hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
“Yes,” she said finally.
My stomach dropped slightly. “What kind of something?”
Zainab looked around first, then leaned closer.
“People are saying you’re working with Amir Bello.”
I blinked. “That’s not a rumor. That’s just a group assignment.”
“I know that,” she said quickly. “But they’re not saying it like that.”
I sighed. “Then how are they saying it?”
Zainab paused.
Then said carefully, “They’re saying you’re getting close to him.”
A quiet silence followed.
I let out a short laugh. “Close? We’ve had two meetings.”
“That’s not the point,” she replied immediately. “You know how this campus is. People talk.”
“I don’t care.”
That was my instinctive answer.
But it came out a little too fast.
Zainab studied my face. “Do you really not care?”
I opened my mouth—
Then stopped.
Because I wasn’t sure anymore.
“I just want to finish the assignment,” I said instead.
“Then stay focused on that,” she said firmly. “And stay away from everything else around him.”
I frowned slightly. “Why does everyone keep talking like he’s dangerous?”
Zainab’s expression changed.
Not dramatic.
But serious.
“Because he is… in his own way,” she said quietly.
I didn’t respond immediately.
Because I had heard that before.
From her.
From others.
Even from the way people reacted when his name was mentioned.
But I didn’t understand it.
Not really.
And that was the problem.
—
When I got to the library later that day, I was already irritated.
Not at him.
At everything else.
Amir was already seated, as usual.
Same spot.
Same posture.
Same unreadable calm.
But today, something felt different.
He looked up as I approached.
Then said, “You’re distracted.”
I dropped my bag onto the chair. “Hello to you too.”
He didn’t respond to that.
Just watched me.
That steady, annoying observation again.
I sat down harder than necessary.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You’re not,” he replied immediately.
I exhaled sharply. “Can we not do this today?”
“Do what?”
“This thing where you act like you know me.”
A pause.
Then he said, “I don’t act.”
That made me look at him.
“People are talking,” I said before I could stop myself.
His expression didn’t change.
“About what?” he asked.
I hesitated.
Then decided there was no point hiding it.
“About us,” I said.
A second passed.
Then another.
His pen stopped moving.
For the first time, I saw something shift in his expression.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Something sharper.
“What exactly are they saying?” he asked.
I looked down at the table. “That I’m getting close to you.”
Silence again.
Longer this time.
Then he leaned back slightly in his chair.
“Are you?” he asked.
My head snapped up immediately. “Excuse me?”
“Are you getting close to me?” he repeated calmly.
I stared at him.
“That’s not— that’s not how this works,” I said quickly. “It’s a group assignment.”
“I know what it is,” he said.
“Then why would you ask that?”
His eyes held mine.
Unmoving.
“Because people don’t talk without reason,” he said simply.
That made me pause.
I frowned slightly. “So you believe them?”
“No,” he said immediately.
A beat.
Then added, “I believe observation.”
That confused me more.
“So what are you observing?” I asked.
For the first time, he didn’t answer right away.
His gaze dropped slightly—not away from me, just… thoughtful.
Then he said quietly,
“That you’re here again.”
I blinked. “That’s your observation?”
“Yes.”
“That I showed up for an assignment?”
He shook his head slightly. “No.”
Then looked at me directly again.
“That you keep showing up.”
That sentence landed differently.
He didn’t say it like accusation.
Or praise.
Just fact.
And somehow, that made it worse.
I swallowed. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“Maybe,” he said.
But he didn’t sound convinced.
—
We worked in silence for a while after that.
But it wasn’t the same silence as before.
This one felt heavier.
Like something had shifted and neither of us knew how to fix it—or if it even needed fixing.
At some point, I caught myself watching him again.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I kept noticing.
The way he focused without distraction.
The way he never seemed unsure when speaking.
The way he didn’t react to rumors, or noise, or people.
Like none of it reached him.
Then suddenly, he spoke again.
“You should ignore them,” he said.
I blinked. “Who?”
“People talking.”
I leaned back slightly. “I was already planning to.”
A pause.
Then he added, “They don’t know anything.”
That made me look at him properly.
“Then what do they know?” I asked.
He met my eyes.
And for a second, something unspoken passed between us.
Then he said,
“Nothing that matters.”
I frowned. “And what matters?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he closed his notebook slightly.
And said,
“The work.”
But even as he said it…
I wasn’t sure that was the truth anymore.
And I had a feeling—
He wasn’t sure either.
- Writer
