The school corridors buzzed with energy that morning. Flyers were plastered on almost every wall, announcing the Class Quiz Challenge in bold red letters. Zara could barely walk three steps without hearing someone complain about the lecturer'The school corridors buzzed with energy that morning. Flyers were plastered on almost every wall, announcing the Class Quiz Challenge in bold red letters. Zara could barely walk three steps without hearings warning.
"Can you believe it? No make-up quiz. No excuses," a girl whispered dramatically to her friend as Zara passed by.
Zara rolled her eyes. She wasn't too worried — she had been paying attention in class, and she liked challenges. Still, she felt the tension thick in the air. The lecturer, Mr. Thompson, had made it crystal clear: Miss the quiz and you miss your grade.
Meanwhile, miles away from campus, Sky was still at the hospital. His days had blurred into an endless loop of checking vitals, picking up prescriptions, and making sure his grandmother was comfortable. He barely noticed the sun rise or set anymore. The only constant was the pale blue hospital walls and the soft beeping of machines.
He didn't have any friends close enough to call and ask what was happening in school. He didn't have the kind of life where people checked in on him. So, when the quiz day came and went, he was oblivious.
Back on campus, the sports field was alive with noise and excitement. Henry's basketball team had a big game against their rivals, and Zara was determined to be the loudest cheerleader there. She was dressed in a casual crop top and jeans, her hair tied up in a high ponytail, looking every bit the confident girl she was.
"Henry! Go! Show them how it's done!" she shouted as her best friend dribbled past a defender.
The game was fierce — the sound of sneakers squeaking on the court, the ball pounding against the wooden floor, and the crowd roaring every time a basket was made. Zara clapped and laughed, completely caught up in the atmosphere.
Then, it happened.
Henry was sprinting down the court, ready to pass, when the opposing team blocked him. The ball slipped from his hands, flying into the crowd — and straight into Zara's head.
"Ah!" she yelped, clutching her forehead.
The crowd gasped. The referee blew his whistle. Henry froze mid-game, eyes wide.
"Zara! Oh my God, are you okay?" someone yelled.
Her vision swam for a moment, the sound of people's voices muffled like they were underwater. A couple of classmates rushed over, helping her stand.
"You need to go to the hospital," one of them insisted.
And just like that, she found herself being ushered into a cab and taken to the university hospital's Outpatient Department.
When she walked through the glass doors, she wasn't expecting to see him.
Sky.
He was leaning against the counter, speaking to a nurse, his usual black hoodie pulled over his head and his AirPods tucked into his ears. He looked tired — no, exhausted — like the weight of the world had been pressing down on his shoulders for weeks.
Zara's heart skipped.
For two weeks, he had been a ghost. No classes. No interactions. She had wondered if he'd dropped out. And now here he was, standing right in front of her, as real as ever.
"Sky?" she blurted before she could stop herself.
He turned. Their eyes met for half a second — just enough time for her to search his face for… something. Anything. But what she got was the coldest look she had ever seen. He gave her a single, flat glance, like she was nothing more than a stranger blocking his way. Then, without a word, he turned back to the nurse, finished whatever he was saying, and walked out.
Zara stood frozen, her mouth slightly open.
What is wrong with this guy? she thought, heat rushing to her cheeks.
She was injured, bandaged up, clearly in pain — and he couldn't even ask what happened?
She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Unbelievable," she muttered to herself.
The nurse at the desk raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, handing Zara a form to fill out.
As she sat in the waiting area, she kept replaying the moment in her head. First, he'd walked out on her at lunch that day without a word. Now, he had the nerve to ignore her while she was hurt?
It wasn't just cold — it was humiliating. People in the waiting area had seen it. She could almost feel their eyes on her, like they were whispering, Ouch, rejected much?
Henry arrived a few minutes later, still in his basketball gear, worry written all over his face.
"Zara! Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I should've aimed better—"
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Henry, relax. I'm fine. Just a bump. But that's not the problem."
"What's the problem?" he asked, frowning.
She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Sky was here."
Henry blinked. "Sky? The quiet guy from our class?"
"Yes! And he just… stared at me and walked away. Like I was invisible."
Henry tilted his head. "Maybe he didn't recognize you?"
Zara scoffed. "Oh, he recognized me. Trust me. It's like he goes out of his way to make me feel stupid. This is the second time he's embarrassed me in public."
Henry scratched the back of his neck. "That's… weird."
"Weird? Henry, it's rude! Your course mate is sitting there with bandages on her head, and you just act like she doesn't exist? Who does that?"
Henry gave her a sympathetic look but didn't answer.
Zara sat back in her chair, arms crossed, determined not to let it bother her — but it did. It bothered her so much that she knew she wouldn't stop thinking about it any time soon.
And somewhere outside, walking down the hospital steps, Sky was silently wishing she hadn't seen him at all.
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