The Clover Leaf

The heat that afternoon was lazy, the kind that made time slow down. The semester hadn’t started yet, and here we are at the rest house felt almost empty—no pressure, no whispers, no sides to take. Enid sat on the grass, shoes kicked off, her notebook forgotten beside her. Joy lay flat on her back, sunglasses crooked, while Roy leaned against a tree, scrolling through his phone. “This is it,” Joy said, sighing dramatically. “Our last few days of freedom before professors ruin our lives.” Roy snorted. “Speak for yourself. I’m ready. I’ve already accepted suffering as a lifestyle.” Enid laughed—an easy, unguarded sound she didn’t know she’d miss later. “You’re so dramatic.” Joy sat up and pointed at Enid. “Says the girl who’s been smiling at her phone all afternoon.” Enid felt her cheeks warm. “I wasn’t—” “Uh-huh,” Joy cut in. “Cavin again?” Enid nodded, trying not to grin. “He said he’s proud of me. First year of college and all.”Roy glanced up. “Long-distance still scares me,” he said honestly. “But if anyone can survive it, it’s you.”That meant more to Enid than she expected. “Thanks.”They sat there for a moment, quiet but comfortable.Later that night, they crammed into a small street food stall just outside campus. Plastic chairs, flickering lights, greasy menus.Joy waved at the vendor. “Three burgers, extra fries. Roy’s paying.”Roy groaned. “I knew trusting you was a mistake.”“You love us,” Joy shot back. Enid watched them banter, smiling. This—this—was what she wanted college to be like. Simple. Light. Safe. Roy leaned toward Enid. “You nervous about classes?” She hesitated. “A little. I don’t really know anyone yet.” “You know us,” Joy said immediately, mouth full of fries. “And that’s already too many people.” Enid laughed. “True.” They ate, joked, teased each other about future crushes and impossible professors. No one talked about drama. No one talked about sides. At one point, Joy raised her soda. “To us. Before everything gets complicated.” They clinked cups. “To us,” Enid echoed, not knowing how much she’d hold onto that moment later. On the walk back home, the sky was dark and soft with stars. Joy linked arms with Enid. “Promise we don’t change, okay?” Enid smiled. “Promise.” Roy walked a little ahead, turning back. “Hey—no matter what happens this year… we’ve got each other.” Enid nodded, heart full. “Yeah. We do.” For that one night, everything felt right. No betrayal. No accusations. No hatred. Just friendship, laughter, and the quiet belief that the future would be kind. She didn’t know then that this memory would become a refuge—something she’d return to when the halls grew cruel and the whispers sharp. But for now, Enid was simply happy. And that was enough. The next day was the first day of school. Enid woke up early to prepare for her 8:00 a.m. class. Her mother had already prepared breakfast. She chose a blue blouse and a pair of jeans, wore rubber shoes, applied light makeup, packed her backpack, and got ready to leave. She arrived at school a little early. Her first class was Geometry, held in Room 201. She followed the school directory to locate the room. When she found it, only a few students were inside. Enid sat in the back corner of the room. No one approached her. She quietly observed as more classmates continued to arrive. As is customary on the first day of school, Enid had to prepare a short self-introduction in front of the class. When it was her turn, she stood and said: “Good morning, everyone. I am Enid Sentri, 18 years old, from the West. It is a pleasure to meet you all.” After finishing her first class, Enid ended the day feeling exhausted. By the time Enid reached home, the sun was already sinking behind the buildings. The sky was painted in tired shades of orange and gray—just like she felt. She dropped her bag on the floor and sat on the edge of her bed, shoulders slumping. Her feet ached. Her head throbbed. Her heart felt… full and empty at the same time. First days were strange like that. She replayed everything in her mind—the introductions, the unfamiliar faces, the quiet stares. She hadn’t embarrassed herself. She hadn’t made a friend either. Just existed. Enid lay back, staring at the ceiling. I survived, she told herself. That has to count for something. Her phone buzzed. “Hello, babe. How was your first day of school?” “I’m a bit tired,” Enid replied. “I spent the whole day introducing myself in front of the class.” “Have you made any friends yet?” Cavin asked. “It was overwhelming,” Enid admitted. “My classmates are all so smart and outspoken. Sometimes I feel out of place.” “You don’t need to compare yourself to them,” Cavin said reassuringly. “You belong there for a reason.” “I hope so,” Enid replied softly. “I’m trying my best to adjust.” “And you will,” Cavin said warmly. “Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.” “You made a great impression on them,” Cavin assured her. “I need to hang up now—I’m about to have dinner. I love you. She hugged the phone to her chest for a moment, letting the words sink in. The distance still hurt, but it was comforting to know he was thinking of her. Another message came in—from Joy. Joy:We survived Day 1! Food tomorrow? Enid laughed softly. Enid:Yes. Please. I’m starving and emotionally drained. She got up, changed into something comfortable, and washed her face. The mirror reflected someone she barely recognized—tired eyes, but still steady. “You did okay,” she whispered to herself. She remembered sitting in the back of the classroom, watching everyone else laugh so easily, talk so confidently. She wondered if she’d ever feel like she belonged. One day at a time, she reminded herself. As the night grew quieter, Enid lay in bed, listening to the wind howling. Tomorrow would be another day. Another chance. Another test. She closed her eyes, exhaustion finally winning.Before sleep took her, one thought lingered softly in her mind.Maybe this year will change me. Maybe I’ll be stronger.And with that fragile hope, Enid drifted off—unaware of how much the coming days would truly test her.Enid was filled with excitement as she learned that she had been assigned to the top section, where both the girls and boys were known to be beautiful, handsome, intelligent, and confident. Although she felt honored, she was also aware that adjusting to such an environment would not be easy.It was difficult for Enid to interact with her classmates. She remained quiet and only spoke when she was asked a question. She usually sat in the second row at the back of the classroom, observing rather than participating in conversations.One afternoon, Stela approached her seat and smiled. “Enid, why are you always sitting back here?” she asked gently.Enid hesitated before replying. “I’m still getting used to everyone. They all seem so confident.” Stela chuckled softly. “That’s because everyone is nervous on the first few days. You don’t need to pressure yourself.” Just then, Aria joined them. “Stela’s right,” he said. “We were all new once. You should sit with us sometime.” Enid smiled politely. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”