They sat at the small round table, the plates arranged neatly, curry rice and a few side dishes, simple and homely. The kind of meal that should have eased tension, but it didn't. Allan, for some reason, felt stiff. Probably because he knew, deep down, that he didn't belong here. The warmth of the home felt too unfamiliar, too gentle for someone like him.
Elaine felt the stiffness too, but for a different reason. Minutes had passed, and her mom still hadn't said anything. The silence wasn't peaceful… it was sharp, like it had edges, and it pressed against her nerves.
"You wanted to say something, ma'am?"
Allan's voice broke the silence.
Elaine's eyes widened. Why did he talk? she thought, startled.
"Just call me Mrs. Randolph," her mom said with a light smile.
He nodded. "Yh."
"I wanted to ask a few questions," she continued, "but I thought you both might be tired from the journey, so I decided to let you eat first."
"That's very considerate of you," Allan said, his voice light, polite, yet oddly detached.
"I didn't expect the visit," she admitted. "It was… surprising seeing you two at the door."
"Yh, I guess you didn't know. We usually get a week break from school before exams," he explained.
"Oh," Mrs. Randolph nodded in realization. "So… you're a friend?"
At that moment, Elaine felt invisible. Completely excluded from the conversation. It was like they were talking around her instead of with her.
But when her mom asked if they were friends, something in Elaine made her look at him. Maybe because she had answered this same question multiple times, and maybe because she'd never actually known what he thought. She didn't know why her heart picked that moment to pay attention but it did.
And when he paused, even for a second, her heartbeat quickened.
Then his answer shattered something inside her.
"No," he said, certain, emotionless. "We're just classmates. We were paired for a class project that'll be submitted when school resumes."
His voice was so smooth, so controlled, that no one could ever guess it was a lie.
"Oh," her mum said, accepting it instantly. "And what's the project about?"
But Elaine wasn't listening anymore.
Her mind replayed only one thing:
He didn't consider her a friend.
She didn't expect it to hurt this much. It was such a small thing, just a word, but it felt like a punch to her chest. Her food suddenly tasted like nothing. Her throat felt hot, tight, like she couldn't swallow anymore. She just hoped none of it showed on her face.
"It's art class," Allan replied calmly. "We're supposed to bring something abstract to life."
Another lie. A flawless one. And her mom bought it. Of course she did. He was convincing, too convincing.
"I hope the both of you get along," her mom said warmly.
Allan nodded.
Elaine kept her gaze down, trying to breathe past the heaviness building in her chest. Then she felt a stare, intense, direct. She looked up.
It was Allan.
He was watching her, unblinking, his grey eyes trained directly on her face. If he kept looking at her like that, she was certain she'd cry. The tears were already prickling at the corners of her eyes.
"I think I'm done eating," she said abruptly.
Her mom looked up, confused, but Elaine had already risen to her feet.
"You haven't eaten halfway—" her mom started, raising her voice slightly.
"Just warm it up. I'll eat it later," Elaine said quickly, already walking away from the table.
Her footsteps were fast, almost too fast, like she was escaping.
Mrs. Randolph watched her leave, then turned to Allan with a tight, awkward smile.
"I'm done too," Allan said, standing. "Thanks for the meal. It was nice."
He left the dining room a moment later.