Chapter12 Tangled roots
911 Words
The phone trembled slightly in Avane’s hand as she stepped out into the quiet hallway. She glanced around, making sure it was empty before tapping Lila’s name on the screen. It had been too long since they talked, and if she didn’t get this off her chest soon, she’d burst.
Lila answered on the second ring.
“Ava! Finally. I thought you’d forgotten all about us ordinary university peasants.”
Avane let out a small laugh. “I could never. Trust me, things here have been... complicated.”
There was a pause on the line. “Okay... what happened?”
“I—” She hesitated, her voice lowering. “I slept with my sponsor.”
Another pause. Then:
“Wait. Your sponsor sponsor? The one who signed off on your scholarship?”
“Yes.”
“Ava.”
“I know.”
“It wasn’t one of those creepy power plays, was it? Like, did he talk you into it? Or does he expect you to be some kind of... I don’t know, convenient call-away?”
“No. Nothing like that. I haven’t even heard from him since. It’s been weeks.”
Lila exhaled hard. “So he swooped in, slept with you, and vanished? That’s low, Ava.”
“I know how it sounds,” Avane said quickly, rubbing her temple. “But it wasn’t like that in the moment. It was... impulsive. And confusing. I don’t regret it exactly, but it’s not something I planned or want to repeat.”
Lila was quiet for a beat, then softened. “So how are you, really?”
Avane sat down on a bench, pressing her back against the cool wall. “Honestly? Classes are hard. This school pushes you. I’m constantly thinking, constantly working. But for the first time, I feel like I’m doing something that matters. Like I’m finding something real for myself.”
“That’s something.”
“I haven’t gone out in the woods yet, though,” she added. “I keep meaning to, but I don’t know. Maybe I’m avoiding it.”
“The woods can wait,” Lila said. “Keep focusing on you. You sound more like yourself than you have in a long time.”
Avane smiled faintly. “Thanks, Li. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. But I’m proud of you. Just... take care of your heart, okay?”
They hung up, and Avane stood, tucking her phone into her pocket as she turned toward her dorm.
As she reached her door, someone was already there—Elara, balancing a thick stack of books against her hip.
“Elara?” Avane blinked. “Hey.”
Elara looked up, startled, then smiled. “Oh, Ava. Hey. Sorry—I didn’t mean to block your door.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just... the third time I’ve seen you since I got here. You’re like a ghost who occasionally stops to say hi.”
Elara let out a dry laugh. “I’m a third-year now. That means I’m technically invisible.”
She looked tired. Really tired. The dark circles under her eyes and the weight in her posture said more than her smile did.
“You okay?” Avane asked.
“Botany is slowly crushing my soul,” Elara said, shifting the books in her arms. “The assignments are relentless. We’re working toward a deadline that really should be handled by a full group. But here I am, one-person research team.”
“And you’re here with me,” Avane said quietly.
“I needed a break. And I wanted to see how you’re settling in.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon in Avane’s room, books spread between them, though they hardly touched them. Conversation came easier than expected. Elara talked about professors who were brilliant but impossible, and a group project that had dissolved into chaos. Avane found herself talking about her classes, her routines, and how different this new life felt.
When late afternoon turned to evening, they raided the small cabinet in the corner of Avane’s room. Between them, they found two cups of noodles, a half-full bag of dried fruit, and a jar of peanut butter.
As they sat on the floor and ate, Avane hesitated before speaking.
“I overheard some students talking about weeding,” she said. “Like it was a thing?”
Elara raised a brow, then snorted softly. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you got in on merit. Real, undeniable merit. People talk, and sometimes they look for ways to discredit what they don’t understand or can’t achieve. Don’t let it get to you.”
Avane’s throat tightened slightly. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
“Anytime.”
When Elara finally rose to leave, she looked like she was carrying more than just books. Like something deeper had settled on her shoulders. Still, she paused long enough to squeeze Avane’s hand.
“Take care of yourself,” she said. “Don’t let this place swallow you whole.”
“You too.”
And then she was gone, her footsteps fading into the quiet hall.
Avane shut the door gently and stood there for a moment, hand on the knob.
She still hadn’t walked the path beyond the back field, into the woods.
Maybe soon.
For now, she was finding her own way—one step at a time.
- Writer
