The morning air felt lighter these days. The sunlight wasn't bursting. Pink petals of cherry blossoms drifted on the wind, making Isabelle walk a little faster and swing her bag a little higher. She still wore her sleeves long and her headphones in, but her heart didn't feel as heavy.
She caught sight of them near the school gate.
Joanna and Lilith, walking out from the small corner store with drinks in hand, deep in a quiet kind of conversation.
Lilith cradled a lemon soda, her fingers curled gently around the can.
Joanna was gesturing with her hands, saying something with a grin that Isabelle couldn't quite hear.
Without thinking, Isabelle raised a hand. "Hey!"
They both turned.
For a heartbeat, Isabelle regretted it—too sudden, too loud, too something. She'd done this before, with other people—called out, waved first, tried too hard.
And she still remembered how they'd looked right through her.
Pretended not to hear. Laughed later like she wasn't standing there.
So when Joanna and Lilith turned, her breath caught. She braced for that same half-smile and sideways glance.
But instead, Joanna waved—casual, easy—and Lilith offered a soft nod, the kind that felt like a thread tugging between them. Not rejection or dismissal.
So Isabelle stepped forward, a little breathless with relief.
"You two come here often?" Isabelle asked, walking up, trying not to trip over her own eagerness.
Joanna arched a brow. "To the store?"
"Yeah. Together, I mean."
"Hmm." Joanna smirked, then tilted her head toward Lilith. "We live in the same apartment. Roommates. Fatemates."
Lilith looked down at her can, her voice soft but steady. "We've known each other since middle school."
"She means I forced her to eat lunch with me every day," Joanna said. "Eventually, she stopped pretending to mind."
Isabelle blinked. "Oh. I didn't know."
"When Lilith got into Westridge too, I told her to move in with me," Joanna added with a shrug.
"I moved in late, though," Lilith said. "Most of her stuff was already on the shelves."
"I left you the good shelf," Joanna said, mock-defensive. "That's generosity."
Lilith's lips twitched. Not quite a smile—but it lingered longer this time.
"The elevator was under repair, and she had three suitcases and a folding chair."
Joanna added, her eyes going wide with mock trauma. "There were stairs involved. I almost died."
Lilith rolled her eyes mockingly.
Isabelle laughed, too loud at first, then muffled it in her sleeve. "That's... nice. I mean—not the stairs. The rest."
Joanna offered her drink toward Isabelle, half-joking. "Want a sip? It's melon milk. Tastes like confusion."
Isabelle shook her head, chuckling at her weird comments. "I'm good."
But the offer sat warm in her chest, like something saved in a pocket for later.
They started walking. At first they were out of sync, but then their steps just sort of matched up.
Isabelle stayed a step behind at first, just listening.
Joanna talked about a professor who wore the same cardigan three days in a row.
Lilith hummed in agreement now and then. The kind of familiar banter Isabelle had only seen from the outside—until now.
She didn't know what had changed. Maybe it was the way Joanna turned to include her in the joke about the professor's tragic dressing choices, or how Lilith passed her a candy that she bought at the store without saying anything.
The silence between them wasn't heavy like it used to be. It felt breathable. Comfortable, even.
Isabelle didn't have much to say. But she didn't need to. That part surprised her most of all.
She glanced sideways at them as they walked: Joanna, sharp with a grin that always seemed a little too smug for mornings; Lilith, thoughtful and quiet, like a line of poetry in the early spring. And then there was her—Isabelle, the girl who once walked alone and thought it was easier that way.
Maybe it was. But this? This was lighter.
As the school building came into view, the three of them slowed, their footsteps unconsciously syncing to the sound of the courtyard breeze.
Joanna twirled her almost empty drink in her hands without breaking stride. "So," she said, glancing at Isabelle, "you always get here this early?"
"Lately, yeah." Isabelle tucked her hair behind one ear, then added, "It's not so bad. Morning feels...calming."
Joanna gave her a look like she got it, even if she didn't say it out loud.
And then—the moment snapped like a twig underfoot.
Damien came sprinting up the path, hair a tousled mess, bag half-zipped and bouncing against his hip. He skidded to a stop just a few feet away, panting dramatically.
"Finally," he muttered between gulps of air, bent slightly at the waist. "Early. For once. I—"
He looked up.
Three pairs of eyes blinked at him in quiet disbelief.
Joanna tilted her head, one brow raised. Her hand rested on her hip. In the other, she held the can raised high, a little tilted outward.
Lilith looked like she'd paused mid-thought. Her gaze was caught somewhere between confusion and indifference.
And Isabelle… well, she gave a small, startled smile, hand half-raised in a half-wave, like she wasn't sure whether to acknowledge him or pretend he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere.
Damien stood straighter. "...Hi?"
"Damien," Isabelle said, her voice caught somewhere between awkward and amused. "You run here?"
He grinned, still breathless. "I live just ten minutes away. Overslept. Again."
Lilith gave a small nod in his direction—acknowledgment, simple and polite.
That, apparently, was the last straw for Joanna.
She turned to the other two, her expression flickering from confusion to mock betrayal. "Okay. Hold on. You know him?"
"Kind of," Isabelle said at the same time Lilith replied, "From orientation."
Joanna blinked. "Of course you do."
Damien looked between them, clearly trying to piece together what conversation he'd just crashed. His eyes landed on Joanna, who hadn't said a word—but whose expression said plenty.
Narrowed eyes. Dry amusement. The exact energy of a black cat deciding whether to bite or simply walk away with disdain.
He smiled at her. Awkwardly. The kind of smile that said, Please don't kill me, I come in peace.
And that was when his unzipped bag finally gave up on holding it together.
A book slipped out with a soft thud, landing spine-first on the pavement like it had been waiting for the most humiliating moment possible.
Damien froze.
For exactly one beat, he stared at it like it had betrayed him.
Then he let out a laugh—a tight, too-high chuckle, awkward and cracking at the edges, like it was trying (and failing) to smother embarrassment with forced nonchalance.
"Ah. That's fine. That's… gravity, I guess."
Isabelle pressed her lips together, turning her face slightly as if admiring a nearby bush.
Lilith suddenly found something very compelling on her shoe, still holding the can with both hands like it anchored her to the moment.
Joanna, to her credit, covered her mouth with the back of her hand—but her shoulders were shaking suspiciously.
No one said anything. No one needed to.
The silence was filled with the effort of not laughing. The collective bite of cheeks and clench of jaws.
Damien slowly bent to pick up the book, brushing invisible dust from the cover like it mattered.
He straightened up, smiling a little more sheepish now. "Soo…" he said, dragging out the word like it might fill the silence. His gaze flicked again—first to Joanna, then to Lilith, then to Isabelle.
Noticing, Lilith spoke first. "Oh—she's Joanna. From the music department."
Joanna raised her brows slightly, as if surprised Lilith had spoken at all. She lifted her drink in a casual toast toward Damien. "Hi."
"I met her at orientation, actually," Isabelle added, tugging at the strap of her bag. "Seemed like Lilith knew her too, so... yeah. Small world."
Damien nodded slowly, processing that with a soft "Huh."
Joanna tilted her head, still watching him like she was trying to decide whether he was simply a mess or a full-blown natural disaster in jeans.
"So you're...?" Joanna asked, one brow arched as she studied him.
"Damien," he said quickly. "Illustration. I've got Belle—uh, Isabelle—and Lilith in that class with me."
There was a beat.
Then Joanna turned her gaze—slowly—to Isabelle.
Then to Lilith.
Then back to Damien.
"Belle, huh," she said at last, her voice dry as cracked parchment in summer. "Interesting. He also knows it."
Damien blinked. "Um. Yeah. She said I could—"
"Oh, I'm sure she did," Joanna cut in, glancing sideways at Isabelle, who gave her the faintest eye-roll, like they'd had this conversation before. "Just curious where you heard it first."
Damien shifted. "I thought I—uh—oh."
Lilith cleared her throat softly, her eyes darting away toward the flowerbeds like they'd just sprouted something fascinating. But it was too late.
Joanna's eyes landed on her, narrowing just slightly. "Lili?"
Lilith's lips twitched—caught between a grimace and a laugh. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Isabelle jumped in, trying to diffuse it. "It's not a big deal, Jo. Honestly."
"No," Joanna said, not looking away from Lilith. "But some people like to pretend they've discovered things when they've just…" Joanna finally turned back to Damien, arching a brow. picked it up like a stray coin on the ground."
Damien opened his mouth, paused, then gave a sheepish shrug. "I guess I heard Lilith say it. It kind of stuck."
Joanna narrowed her eyes, a slow smirk curling at the corners of her mouth. "Huh. Look at you. Already parroting things like you belong."
Damien blinked, a half-smile tugging at his mouth, and threw up his hands. "Wow. You really have it out for me, huh?"
Joanna flashed him a grin, dry as ever. "No. You're just fun to roast, Damy."
Damien blinked. "A what now?"
"Damy," she repeated, lips curling. "It suits you."
Lilith let out a quiet breath that might've been a laugh. Isabelle visibly fought a smile.
"I—uh—thanks?" Damien said, as if unsure whether to accept it as a compliment or a personal attack. "Is that… a nickname or...?"
Joanna smirked. "Sure. Short for 'dummy,' but spelled cuter."
Damien laughed, a real one this time—surprised and slightly horrified. "Wow. Okay. That's rude."
"Damy," Joanna said, purely provoking.
Damien blinked. "I—yeah," he said with a sigh, "Never mind," tucking the book back into his half-zipped bag. "...Fine. I'll allow it," he muttered.
"Oh, how generous," Joanna called over her shoulder, not even looking back.
Lilith grinned. Isabelle snorted.
And just like that, they all kept walking.
New day. New faces.