More Than What They See

CHAPTER 16: Last Night and Going Home

Rhian’s POV

That night was our last night at the campsite, and everyone gathered around the big glowing bonfire to play games, sing songs, and share stories. The air was cool and smelled of burning wood and sweet grass, and laughter echoed all around us. I stayed near the edge of the crowd, clapping softly when others cheered, never drawing too much attention to myself. When the teacher called for a relay race, everyone scrambled to line up, and I found myself running alongside the others. As I turned to run back toward the line, I saw a foot stretch out right in my path.

I stumbled hard, my arms flailing to keep my balance, and I barely managed to catch myself before I fell face first onto the rough ground. My heart pounded wildly as I straightened up, brushing dirt off my knees and palms. It was Gio who pulled his foot back, wearing that familiar mocking grin.

“Can you not watch where you are going?” Jace called out, laughing loudly beside him. “You might really get hurt one day, and then everyone will blame us.”

I looked straight at Francis, my eyes silently begging him to say something, to tell them to stop. But he just gave a short, dry laugh and shook his head like it was all some silly joke.

“You are just rushing too much,” he said casually, his voice cold and indifferent. “No one is chasing you anyway. Calm down.”

My chest felt so heavy it was hard to breathe. I turned away quickly so no one would see the tears stinging my eyes. Why did I keep hoping? Why did I keep looking for something good in him when every single time, he proved me wrong?

The rest of the night passed slowly. I sat quietly, eating my food, pretending not to hear their whispers and laughs whenever they glanced my way. When it was time to sleep, I lay awake for a long time inside my tent, listening to them talk and laugh from the other side of the camp, wondering why everything had to be this way.

The next morning, everyone was busy packing up their things. I knelt beside my bag, trying hard to pull the zipper closed, but it was too full and heavy. My fingers slipped and trembled as I pulled and tugged, but it would not budge. I felt like crying from frustration and exhaustion. Just then, Francis walked past me, his bag already slung easily over his shoulder. He stopped for a moment, standing closer than usual, and for a second I thought he might help me. But instead, he nudged the side of my bag hard with his foot, shifting the contents inside and making it bulge out even more.

“You should be more careful,” he said sharply, his voice loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “If you cannot pack properly, maybe you should just stay here. We are not waiting for anyone.”

He turned to walk away, but as he took a step, his voice dropped so low that only I could hear it, barely a whisper carried by the wind.

“If only I could help you without them seeing…”

I froze. I stared at his back, wondering if I had really heard it, or if I was just so tired and confused that my mind was making things up. When he looked back for a split second, his eyes met mine, and there was something there—regret, pain, something I could not name—but he looked away instantly when Gio called his name.

“Francis! Hurry up! The bus is leaving soon!”

He walked over to them without another word, leaving me standing there with my half-packed bag and my mind full of questions I could not answer.

On the bus ride home, I sat alone at the very last seat by the window, just like I did on the way here. They sat up front, taking up three whole rows, talking loudly, passing snacks to each other, and laughing like they did not have a single care in the world. Every now and then, when I looked up, I caught Francis glancing back over his shoulder toward me. But the moment our eyes met, he would turn his head away quickly, pretending to look out the opposite window or answer something Jace said.

When we finally reached town, everyone said their goodbyes and ran to their parents waiting by the gate. I watched as a shiny black car pulled up right in front of them. A driver stepped out to open the doors, and they climbed in easily like it was the most natural thing in the world. I adjusted my heavy bag on my shoulder and turned toward the long walk home.

As their car slowly drove past me, it slowed down just a little. Francis leaned slightly out the open window, his hair blowing in the wind. He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes full of something sad and heavy, like he wanted to say so many things. But before he could, Gio said something loud inside the car, and Francis pulled back quickly, disappearing from view.

I kept walking down the dusty road, carrying everything on my own shoulders. I told myself he was probably just curious about how I lived. There could not be anything more to it. They acted like they cared sometimes, in those quiet moments when no one was watching, but in the end, they were still the same people who made every single day harder than it had to be. And I knew I had to stop looking for kindness where there was only ever meant to be cruelty.