CHAPTER 17 — She Felt Herself Drifting
922 Words
The next few days passed in a blur — not because they were busy, but because Lia felt strangely disconnected from everything around her.
She went through the motions: classes, group meetings, assignments, late‑night study sessions. But inside, she felt like she was watching herself from a distance.
She wasn’t drowning.
She wasn’t struggling.
She wasn’t falling apart.
She was drifting.
And somehow, that felt worse.
🌤️ A Morning That Didn’t Feel Like Hers
When she arrived at the research building, her group was already deep into discussion. Aria waved her over.
“Lia! We’re finalizing the simulation outputs.”
Mateo grinned. “Your part looks great, by the way.”
Daniel looked up, his smile soft. “Morning.”
Lia returned the smile, though it felt faint. “Morning.”
They dove into the work — refining the model, adjusting parameters, preparing their next steps. Lia contributed, but her mind felt foggy, her thoughts scattered.
Daniel noticed.
“You’re quiet again,” he said softly.
“I’m fine,” she replied automatically.
But she wasn’t.
Because every time she tried to focus, her mind drifted back to Evan —
To the silence between them,
To the space he offered,
To the ache, she didn’t know how to name.
And she hated that she didn’t know what to do.
📘 A Moment That Felt Too Heavy
As they reviewed the simulation results, Daniel leaned closer to point at her screen. His shoulder brushed hers — light, accidental, but enough to make her breath catch.
“You’re doing great,” he said. “Really.”
Lia nodded, trying to steady her heartbeat. “Thanks.”
He didn’t move away immediately.
He lingered — just a second too long.
Aria noticed.
Mateo noticed.
Lia noticed most everything.
She shifted slightly, creating space.
Daniel blinked, as if realizing it was too late. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said quickly.
But it wasn’t okay.
Not because of him —
But because of what it stirred inside her.
Because she didn’t know what she wanted.
Because she didn’t know what she was allowed to want.
🌆 A Message That Made Her Chest Tighten
After the meeting, Lia stepped outside to breathe. The air was cool, the sky overcast, the world muted.
Her phone buzzed.
Her heart jumped.
Evan: How’s your day going?
Lia hesitated.
Lia: Busy. Just finished with the group.
A pause.
Evan: I’m glad you’re keeping up. You’ve been working hard.
Her breath caught.
It was a kind message.
A supportive message.
A safe message.
But it felt… distant.
Too distant.
She typed slowly:
Lia: Thanks.
She didn’t add anything else.
And neither did he.
The silence that followed felt heavier than any words.
🌫️ An Afternoon That Felt Like a Question
She headed to the library, hoping the quiet would help her breath. She found a corner table, opened her laptop, and tried to focus on the simulation outputs.
But her thoughts kept drifting.
To Evan’s message.
To Daniel’s closeness.
To the ache she couldn’t name.
She didn’t want to feel this way.
She didn’t want to be confused.
She didn’t want her heart to complicate everything.
But feelings didn’t wait for permission.
They arrived uninvited, unannounced, unavoidable.
🌙 A Conversation She Didn’t Expect
She was reviewing her notes when someone sat across from her.
Daniel.
Her breath caught.
“You left quickly after the meeting,” he said gently.
“I needed quiet,” she replied.
He nodded. “You’ve been… different lately.”
Lia looked down. “I’m just overwhelmed.”
“With the workload?” he asked.
“With everything.”
Daniel hesitated — then leaned forward slightly.
“Lia,” he said softly, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”
Her chest tightened.
Because he meant it.
Because he cared.
Because he was offering something she wasn’t sure she could accept.
“I’m not pretending,” she whispered. “I’m just… trying to figure things out.”
He nodded slowly. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”
She swallowed. “Thank you.”
But she didn’t say more.
And Daniel didn’t push.
But the silence between them felt heavy — full of things neither of them dared to name.
🌌 A Moment That Made Her Heart Tremble
They studied together for a while — quietly, comfortably. Daniel didn’t hover. He didn’t pry. He just stayed.
And somehow, that made the ache inside her soften.
When they finally packed up, Daniel walked her to the exit.
“Lia,” he said softly, “you’re doing better than you think.”
She looked up, surprised. “Am I?”
He smiled — warm, steady, sincere. “You are.”
Her chest warmed — not with certainty, but with something gentler.
Something she didn’t know how to name.
📓 A Truth She Could No Longer Hide
Back in her room, Lia opened her notebook and wrote:
“Day 56. Today, I felt myself drifting.
Not away from people —
But away from who I used to be.”
She paused, then added:
“Maybe change doesn’t happen in big moments.
Maybe it happens quietly,
In the spaces between what we say
And what we’re afraid to feel.”
She closed the notebook gently.
Tomorrow, she will face new challenges.
Tomorrow, she will keep learning.
Tomorrow, she will keep growing.
But tonight, she allowed herself to feel the truth she had been avoiding:
She was drifting.
And she didn’t know where she would land.
- Writer
