More than a classmate
398 Words
Kobe was the kind of guy who kept to himself. He wasn’t shy, exactly—just quiet. He liked his headphones, his sketchbook, and the back row of the classroom where no one bothered him. That was until Marshel walked in.
Marshel wasn’t like the others. She had this energy that followed her like sunlight through a window—warm, calming, but impossible to ignore. When she sat next to him on the first day of their literature class, Kobe’s world quietly shifted.
“Hey, I’m Marshel,” she said, flashing a smile that somehow felt like a spark in a dim room.
“Kobe,” he replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.
Over the next few weeks, they kept sitting next to each other. At first, their conversations were only about assignments and teachers. But soon, they started trading stories about music, favorite books, and the weird things they noticed around campus. Marshel laughed at Kobe’s quiet humor. Kobe found himself waiting for her laugh, like it was the best part of his day.
One rainy afternoon, they got caught walking back from class. Marshel didn’t have an umbrella, so Kobe offered his hoodie.
“You’ll get soaked,” she said.
“It’s just rain,” he shrugged. “You’re more important.”
That’s when Marshel looked at him differently. Her smile was softer now. That was the first time she realized he wasn’t just a quiet guy in the back of the room—he was kind, thoughtful, and maybe even brave in his own quiet way.
As the semester went on, their friendship deepened. They studied together, shared playlists, and slowly began to open up about things they didn’t tell others. One night, sitting under the stars after a late study session, Kobe turned to her.
“You ever think,” he asked, “that maybe we were supposed to meet like this?”
Marshel looked at him for a long moment. “I think about that a lot,” she said.
He reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away.
From that night on, they weren’t just classmates anymore. They were something more—something real. Love didn’t hit them like lightning. It grew, quiet and steady, like the morning sun through the trees. And neither of them ever sat in the back row alone again.
TO BE CONTINUED...
- Writer
