Ellie lay under the magnolia tree, staring up at the branches above her. The soft rustling of leaves filled the air, the late afternoon sun filtering through the branches and casting spots of light on her skin. Away from the whispers and from the stares, she could finally breathe.
She exhaled slowly, trying to let go of the tension gripping her chest. She missed home, she missed her mother. Maybe coming to Westwood was a mistake. She wasn't like the rest of them.
"What are you doing here?"
The unfamiliar voice startled her out of her thoughts. Ellie sat up abruptly and looked up at the source of the interruption.
Standing above her was the most good-looking teen she had ever seen. His sharp features were framed by neatly styled dark hair, and his gray eyes—cool and unreadable behind his glasses—were locked onto her.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, the crispness of his uniform and his casual stance giving him an air of refinement and roguishness.
When did someone else get here? She hadn't even heard him approach.
Ellie blinked at him, confused and irritated by the presence of a stranger. "Why can't I be here? Does this belong to your family or something?"
The boy's expression didn't change, but he arched his eyebrow as if looking at a crazy person. "Yes, actually, and you should know that," he said smoothly. "The tree was planted by my grandfather, and the stone table was commissioned by him, too. Please leave. I don't like people coming here."
Ellie's irritation flared. Of course. Of course, it had to belong to some rich kid. They were unwelcoming, as if she were a criminal coming to stain their school.
"Do you think I want to be here with all you stuck-up brats?" she snapped.
The moment the words left her mouth, the little barrier that had been keeping her tears at bay was finally worn away.
Why was this happening to her?
Why did her mom have to die?
Why did she have to leave everything behind?
Everything she was familiar with and loved?
Her throat tightened, and tears welled up in her eyes.
"Okay then, you can be on your way." The boy continued gesturing for her to go.
She turned her face away, blinking rapidly, but it was no use. Her shoulders trembled as hot tears slid down her cheeks, like a river released from its dam.
James stiffened, his posture faltering as he stared at her in stunned silence. He hadn't expected that. He just wanted her to stop trying to suck up to him and leave his private space—but this?
Guilt twisted in his gut. Had he been too harsh?
For a second, he considered telling her to shut up or go cry somewhere else. She shouldn't even be here. He didn't even know her. But something about the way her shoulders shook, the way she rubbed her eyes trying to stop her tears from flowing, made him hesitate.
After a long pause, he exhaled sharply. "You can cry here if you like," he muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly. "I'll let you stay here for today."
Ellie didn't respond. She kept crying, her silent tears became loud sobs, heartbreaking like something bad had happened to her.
James rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her. He had no idea what to do—Should he call a teacher, a prefect? How could he make her stop crying—comforting people wasn't exactly his skill set.
He turned to the girl crying in the grass. She was using her tie to dab her eyes as her shoulders trembled harder with each choking sob.
After a moment of hesitation, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket—a pale blue one, neatly folded—and placed it beside her on the ground.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away. Going down the stairs, he turned back to see the girl with every step he took. She was still crying.
Ellie sat there for a long time after he left. Her sobs had quieted, and the sun was already setting.
Eventually, she looked for her blazer so she could wipe her eyes. That was when she noticed the handkerchief.
She picked it up hesitantly, running her fingers over the fabric. It was soft. Had he left this for her?
The thought made her smile bitterly. She wiped her face, gathering the remnants of her composure, and stood up. She tucked the handkerchief into her pocket before making her way back to the dorms.
The sun's warm golden glow over the school ground made it look more fairytale-like. Ellie inhaled deeply, enjoying the view as she strolled.
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When she arrived, she found Amy, Alice, and Sarah waiting for her in the room. Amy was seated at her desk, arms crossed, while Sarah was sprawled on her bed, Alice beside her, scrolling through her phone.
The moment Ellie walked in, Amy stood up, while Alice and Sarah also straightened.
"I heard about what happened today," she said, her voice filled with concern.
Ellie stiffened. "Oh?" she asked, her tone flat.
Amy sighed. "Stella. The rumors."
Ellie swallowed. "It's fine".
"Don't worry," Amy continued. "Your homeroom teacher already spoke to the principal. Everything will be clarified to the entire student body on Wednesday during the general assembly."
She leaned forward slightly. "I wonder who started the rumor, anyway."
"Yeah, don't listen to Stella," Alice added. "She acts like a princess because she's related to royalty."
"More than half of the school is related to royalty," Sarah snorted. "There are about five people in the succession line. She's not special."
Ellie laughed.
Amy studied her, her sharp gaze searching for something in Ellie's expression. Then, she exhaled and reached for the paper bag sitting on the table behind her.
"Here," she said, handing it over. "Dinner. I had the kitchen make burgers and fries for you."
Ellie blinked in surprise. "You… did?"
"Of course," Amy said, like it was obvious. "One of the chefs owes me a favour."
Ellie hesitated before taking the bag. The warmth seeped through her fingers.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"I got you a Pepsi," Sarah added, holding out a cold bottle.
"I went with Sarah." Alice quipped.
Ellie looked at the three of them, something warm unfurling in her chest.
She took the bottle from Sarah and sat down, placing the bag on her lap. "Thank you, guys," she said, tears pooling in her eyes again. Ellie opened the bag and pulled out a fry, chewing slowly.
They sat with her as she ate, letting the comfortable silence settle between them.
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Later that night, Ellie was lying on her bed, scrolling mindlessly through Deviant Art when her phone started vibrating.
Dad.
She hesitated for only a second before answering.
"Hey," she said, trying to keep her voice even.
"Ellie," her father's familiar voice came through the line. "How was your first day of classes?"
She thought about the stares. The whispers. Stella's words. The magnolia tree. The boy who left his handkerchief
And then, she thought about Amy. Sarah. Alice.The quiet support and comfort they had given her.
"It was fine," she said after a pause. "Everyone's treating me well."
Alex was silent for a moment as if trying to gauge if she was telling the truth. Then, his voice softened.
"Good," he said. "I was thinking about you all day, worried you won't be able to adapt."
Ellie felt a lump rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down.
"Don't worry, Dad," she murmured. "My homeroom teacher is really nice."
"Could it be someone I know?" He asked.
"Ms. Harrow"
"Wow, she really came back to teach," Alex said with a chuckle. "She always wanted to be a teacher. You are in good hands. I trust her."
"And how was work?" Ellie asked
Alex smiled on the other end, his daughter's question warming his heart