The first night in the apartment was… strange.
It was quiet — not the familiar, comforting silence of my mother's house, but a flat, hollow kind. The kind that made you realize how far from home you really were.
Jason barely spoke. He nodded when Pearl greeted him, but his eyes lingered just a little too long, like she was an unexpected package someone dropped at his door.
She didn't mind. She wasn't here to be liked.
The room Frederick offered her was small — mattress on the floor, a table with a wobbly leg, and a small window that overlooked the rusted roof of a nearby shed. But it was hers. That was enough.
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*Day One.*
Crestville was alive. People moved with purpose. Girls with tote bags swung their hips like they owned the pavement. Guys with laptops and half-charged phones gathered around outlets like it was a religion.
Pearl wore her cleanest top, old jeans, and a pair of slippers that had seen too many rainy days. She felt plain. Ordinary. Invisible.
But that was okay.
She walked across campus slowly, soaking it all in — the laughter, the struggle, the smell of early morning bread from a nearby kiosk. No one stared at her. No one knew her. No one asked about Bryan, or her factory shifts, or her silence.
She liked it.
Frederick was already ahead — introducing her to the registration officer, helping her find her faculty building, answering questions she didn't know how to ask.
"You're awfully quiet," he said as they walked back to the apartment that evening.
"I'm just… watching," she replied.
"Watching what?"
"Everything."
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*Day Three.*
Jason still didn't talk much. He came in, dropped his keys, scrolled on his phone, ate, left. Pearl greeted him with a polite "Good evening" whenever they crossed paths. That was all.
He didn't answer at first.
Then, one night, he mumbled, "Hmm."
Pearl didn't take it personally. She wasn't looking for his approval. She cooked her noodles, washed her plate, and left the kitchen cleaner than she found it.
That night, as Jason passed her door, he paused for half a second — like he was waiting to say something.
But he didn't.
And she didn't notice.
*The Weekend.*
By Saturday, Pearl had found her rhythm. Wake up. Bathe. Boil water. Sweep. Review course materials. Walk around campus like she wasn't lost.
She hadn't made friends yet — not real ones — but she smiled at a few girls from her department and made small talk at the water dispenser. It wasn't much, but it was something.
When she returned that evening, Frederick wasn't home.
Jason was.
He looked up when she entered, eyes unreadable. She greeted him. He responded this time, voice low but clear.
"You like it here?" he asked, out of nowhere.
She blinked. "It's… new."
"That's not an answer."
She shrugged. "I'm still deciding."
Jason stared at her for a moment, then nodded once and went back to his laptop.
It was the longest conversation they'd had.
And the first time she saw the edge of a smile pull at his lips as she walked away.
*"They say a new place changes you. But maybe… it just peels back who you were all along."*
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