The medicine and surgery lecture hall was colder than Maria expected, it's wide arching windows doing little to keep out the morning breeze. She sat at the middle, notebook open, pen poised in her hand, though her mind wandered every few minutes. The professor's voice—smooth and deliberate—floated through the hall like fog, but her thoughts kept drifting.
It has only been a few days since she'd arrived at Bota, and though she smiled politely when spoken to, her body still carried the stiffness of someone on high alert. She was used to pretending everything was okay. In many ways, she has perfected it.
Her scholarship was still intact. Her grades from the preliminary screening were excellent. And even though the counselor, Mrs Lien, has a watchful eye, she hadn't said anything besides her usual tight-lipped greetings.
So why did Maria still feel like she was balancing on a ledge?
A burst of laughter from the hallway distracted her. She looked up just in time to see a girl walk into the room, confidently late, head held high like the world bent to her rhythm. She wore a designer baggy shirt and baggy trousers along with pair of canvas and a silver chain on her necklace, fingers and wrist that caught the morning light. Her wolfcut hairstyle were wild but elegant. Her lips—painted with light lipgloss—were curled in a lazy smirk as she scanned the room, completely unbothered.
Maria's pen slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.
The girl noticed, walked past rows of silent students, picked up the one, and handed it to her.
"You dropped this," she said, her voice low and honey-smooth. Their eyes locked, just for a moment. Deep brown met stormy black. Something sparked.
"Thanks," Maria murmured, her fingers brushing the girl's briefly.
The girl grinned before slipping into the empty seat beside her. "You always sit this stuff?"
Maria blinked. "What?"
"You look like you're about to run out the door. First-year?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Same. You've got that new-girl panic written all over you, so I figured. I'm Liz."
The name sent a chill down Maria's spine. She didn't know why. Maybe it was how casually she said it. Like it was a spell.
"I'm... Maria."
"Cute," Liz said, scrubbling something into her notebook like she hadn't just shattered Maria's sense of calm.
The lecture resumed, but all Maria could think about was the warmth that had lingered when their fingers touched. It was the first time someone had looked at her without seeing a project, a charity case, or a problem to fix. Liz had looked at her like she was interesting. Like she was someone worth knowing.
After lectures, Maria tried to leave quickly, but Liz caught up to her.
"You're in medicine and surgery, right? Let me guess—caring. Always trying to help people who had been injured or sick."
Maria paused, stunned.
Liz laughed. "Relax. I'm teasing. Kind of. Am also a medicine and surgery student as well."
They walked side by side down the campus path. Maria noticed the way people looked at Liz — like she was some kind of royalty. Confident. Untouchable.
"You don't talk much," Liz said after a while.
"I talk when I have something to say," Maria replied.
That earned her a slow, approving smile. "Okay Maria. I see you."
That was the beginning.
They started studying together sometimes—at the café, in the library, late in the common room when most students had already gone to bed. Liz was sharp, charming, and underneath her sarcasm was a kind of brilliance that made Maria want to know everything about her.
And she could feel it—undeniably, unmistakenly. The pull.
One night, two weeks later, they sat on the dorm roof, sipping warm drinks and listening to soft music playing from Liz' phone. The stars above were blurred by campus lights, but Maria still looked up like she was searching for answers.
"You ever been in love?" Liz asked.
Maria shook her head. "Not really."
"Not really, or never?"
Maria hesitated. "Never... not fully. I've always been too scared."
"Of what?"
"Of... being seen."
Liz turned to look at her. "I see you."
Silence settled over them. Heavy. Honest.
"I'm not normal," Maria whispered.
"Who the fuck wants to be normal?"
Then Liz did something unexpected. She leaned in, just slightly, just enough for Maria to feel her breath. Maria's heart raced.
But Liz didn't kiss her. She pulled back, smiled lazily, and said, "Goodnight, Maria."
Maria didn't sleep that night.
She knew something was happening. Something dangerous. Something she wouldn't be able to undo.
But she didn't want to stop it.