longing After You

Chapter 2: Paired with the Cold Guy!

The next morning started quieter than the first.

Maybe it was because I’d slept late thinking about everything — the faces, the laughter, the humiliation that replayed every time I blinked. Or maybe it was because I knew what waited for me today; more perfect uniforms, more perfect people, and another round of pretending not to care.

“Second day,” Mom said as she placed a warm cup of tea beside my toast. “That’s usually the hardest one. The excitement’s gone and the routine hasn’t started yet.”

I smiled weakly. “So basically I’m walking into the danger zone.”

Dad chuckled from behind his newspaper. “You’ll be fine, Zita. Just remember,everybody puts on pants one leg at a time.”

“Alright Dad” I replied, pressing my lips into a thin line.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that some people probably had people to help them do it.

I had my breakfast in a hurry so I could catch up with the school bus.

By the time I arrived at school, I’d rehearsed at least five different versions of how the day would go. None of them involved me tripping, spilling, or bumping into someone in the hallway again.

The corridors were already buzzing. Students leaned against lockers, laughing. Vanessa stood near the water fountain, surrounded by her usual clique of friends. Her curls looked like they’d been styled by angels. When she noticed me, her eyes flickered briefly—then she whispered something to one of her friends, who laughed.

I pretended not to notice.

Maya found me outside the science lab. “Hey, new girl,” she greeted, linking her arm through mine. “Survived day one?”

“Barely.”

“Don’t worry,” she said cheerfully. “Science class will change everything.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That sounds suspiciously optimistic.”

“You’ll see.” she replied with a cheeky smile.

The bell rang, and we filed into the lab. It was bright, modern, and smelled faintly of disinfectant and lemon polish, nothing like the ones in my old school. Rows of tables lined with microscopes and labeled jars filled the room. My seat was at the far end, next to Maya and a guy named Liam, who had headphones around his neck even in class.

Then she walked in.

“Good morning, everyone,” the woman said warmly. She looked like she was in her early thirties, with dark hair tied in a neat bun and bright, intelligent eyes behind thin glasses. “I’m Miss Sarah Langford — your science teacher, and your occasional reality check.”

A few students chuckled. Miss Sarah smiled. “I see some new faces this term. Welcome to Elite Private School. I know this school can feel... intimidating. But in my class, curiosity matters more than confidence. If you’re willing to learn, you’ll fit right in.”

Her eyes swept across the room and landed on me. “And you must be Zita Miller.”

I froze. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I heard about your scholarship. Congratulations. That’s not easy to earn.”

My cheeks burned as a few heads turned my way — including Vanessa’s. Her smirk could’ve sliced glass.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

Miss Sarah nodded approvingly. “Good. Then let’s get started.”

The lesson was on the periodic table,something I’d always liked. Miss Sarah made it interesting, explaining how each element had its own “personality,” how sodium was reactive and oxygen was a loyal partner. She was funny, sharp, and full of energy — the kind of teacher who made you forget you were learning.

Halfway through, she divided us into pairs for a short experiment.

Maya got paired with Liam. Which left... me and Xavier.

My stomach twisted.

He sat two rows away, and when Miss Sarah called his name, his head turned and those same blue eyes locking on me again.

“Zita, you’ll work with Xavier,” Miss Sarah said. “You both seem focused.”

Focused. Sure. If by focused she meant trying not to die of awkwardness.

He didn’t say a word as I moved to his table. The faint smell of coffee and cologne lingered around him — apparently he’d learned to keep his drink far away from me.

I cleared my throat. “So, uh… sodium and water reaction?”

He nodded curtly, his expression unreadable.

We worked in silence. I wrote down notes, he handled the glass tubes. Every so often, I caught him glancing at me, then looking away quickly, like he couldn’t decide whether to talk or ignore me.

When the experiment ended, Miss Sarah clapped her hands. “Excellent work, everyone! Especially Zita and Xavier — accurate results, neat setup. That’s how it’s done.”

Vanessa’s pen snapped loudly against her desk.

After class, Maya and I walked to our lockers.

“So…” she began, smirking. “You and Xavier, huh?”

I groaned. “Please don’t.”

“What? You two looked good together.”

“He barely spoke to me.”

“That’s his thing. The mysterious, silent type. He’s actually nice once you get past the whole statue routine.”

“Statue routine?”

“Yeah. He's Gorgeous, cold, and emotionally unavailable.”

“Just like a statue.”she added.

I snorted. “Sounds like a nightmare.”

Maya grinned. “Or a love story waiting to happen.”

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “You watch too many teen dramas.”

“Guilty.”

By lunchtime, things seemed smoother, until I sat down in the cafeteria and realized someone had swapped my tray. My sandwich was missing, replaced by a single apple and a note.

“Maybe you’ll fit in better if you eat less.”

The handwriting was delicate and feminine and I didn’t need a detective to guess who it was from.

My stomach sank. I wanted to ignore it, but my hands trembled slightly as I shoved the note away.

Maya frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied, forcing a smile.

“Zita…”

“It’s fine, really.” I assured her.

But it wasn’t. It was the reminder that no matter how well I did, no matter how kind I tried to be, there’d always be people waiting to remind me that I didn’t belong here.

*.*.*.*

The rest of the day dragged. Miss Sarah’s encouraging smile was the only thing that kept me from crumbling. Before dismissal, she stopped me at the door.

“Zita, wait a second.”

I turned. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I just wanted to say, you did great today. You think before you speak, and that’s rare around here.” Her tone softened. “Don’t let anyone make you feel like you don’t deserve your place,Ok.”

Something tightened in my chest — a mix of gratitude and relief. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

On the bus ride home, the city lights blurred outside the window. I thought about the note, Vanessa’s smirk, and Xavier’s quiet stare. Everything felt too complicated, too much for just the second day.

if things continues like this, I'm not sure I'm going to survive final year!

When I got home, Mom was on the couch reading. She looked up and smiled. “How was it?”

I hesitated. “Better than yesterday.”

“See?” she said. “Progress.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah. Progress.”

But the truth was, I still felt like I was barely holding things together.

“Debbie isn't home yet?” I asked, glancing around the living room to find any sign of her.

“No, sweetie. Her class teacher said she's struggling with math, so she has to take extra classes,” Mom replied with a small sigh.

My heart sank.

“Oh no… it’s my fault. I was so focused on preparing for the scholarship exam, I forgot to help her with her assignments.”

Debbie was my only sister. If I didn’t look out for her, who would?

“Zita…” Mom smiled gently, cutting me off. “None of this is your fault, sweetie. Debbie never liked math anyway.”

“But–”

“Shhh.” She interrupted again, her voice soft but firm. “Now go upstairs, take a shower, rest if you want to, and come down when dinner’s ready.”

“Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered, rolling my eyes just enough to make her smile.

As I climbed the stairs, the weight of the day settled on my shoulders. My legs felt heavy, and so did my thoughts.

Progress, I had said.

I was supposed to be taking a nap or shower has Mom said, but when I got to my room, I sat on the bed for a long time, staring at my old diary. Then I opened it.

Dear Diary,

Day two — I didn’t spill anything today, which is progress. I met a teacher who believes in me, a friend who makes me laugh, and a boy who won’t talk to me but somehow makes my heart race anyway.

Also, I learned that some people smile with their lips but not their heartsp.

Maybe that’s what Elite really is, a school full of perfect masks. I just hope I never forget who I am trying to fit in.

I closed the diary, feeling a strange calm settle over me.

Whatever came next — I was ready.

Or at least, I hoped I was.