Dinda never imagined that one day, they would be in the same school again. The first time she saw the girl at middle school, a sense of familiarity appeared in her mind, but the face remained unclear, not connected to any memories. The girl wasn't someone who stood out—she was just a new student, seemingly ordinary, quiet, and often kept to herself.
But she was very different from Dinda. In the first year of middle school, the girl always wore a cheerful expression that seemed to spread to those around her. She tried to make friends with everyone, including Dinda. But for Dinda, who was struggling to fit in with the social pressures of middle school—the competition for grades, the cliques, and the desire to be accepted—approaching someone who was "too different" like this girl felt like a burden.
Dinda clearly remembered the first time the girl greeted her in the cafeteria. "Hey, I think we've met before, right? You're Dinda, right?" Her voice was cheerful and full of hope.
Dinda responded coldly, "Maybe. I don't remember."
Guilt flashed across Dinda's heart, but she quickly justified her actions. The middle school environment made her feel like she had to distance herself from people who were considered "out of place" with social norms. She feared being ridiculed for getting too close to someone who seemed "different." The girl, although friendly, often appeared alone, didn't quite fit in with the popular groups at school, and always carried a cheerfulness that Dinda thought was almost too unreal.
But in the second year, everything changed. A small incident in class caused their relationship to crack. At that time, Dinda and the girl were working together on a group project. The girl tried to lead, offering bright ideas that Dinda considered excessive.
"Come on, let's make the project more interesting! Let's add a creative presentation to make it fun," the girl exclaimed enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Dinda, who was feeling the pressure of maintaining her grades, thought the idea was just a waste of time. "We don't need to do that. Just do the usual thing. No need to overcomplicate it," she replied sharply, her tone more cutting than she intended.
The girl fell silent for a moment, her expression changing, but she smiled softly. "I just wanted us to have some fun," she said quietly, as if trying to hide her disappointment behind the smile.
However, when the project was completed and graded, some classmates started commenting on the girl. "The project is good, but it seems like you were forcing it," one of them said with a mocking tone.
Her words seemed to sting the girl. She simply stayed silent, not defending herself, as if she had grown used to such attitudes. Dinda, who secretly felt guilty, still chose not to say anything in her defense.
That day, their relationship changed drastically. The girl began keeping her distance, and Dinda didn't make any effort to fix the situation. But in her silence, Dinda felt something strange.
In the second year of middle school, Dinda started losing her self-confidence. The competitive and pressurized environment made her feel smaller. She began withdrawing from her friends, becoming quieter, shyer, and even afraid to speak in front of others. Dinda often felt alone, but she didn't know how to escape that circle.
On the other hand, the girl became someone even more different. She became cheerier, more confident in speaking, and more willing to be friends with anyone. She was often seen laughing with new friends, as if the world had never hurt her. That change made Dinda feel both envious and regretful, because she knew she couldn't change so easily.
One day, in the school library, the girl approached Dinda, breaking the silence that had lingered between them for so long. "Are you okay?" she asked in a gentle voice, as if trying to open a door that had been locked for a long time.
Dinda only nodded without looking at her, a wave of guilt and awkwardness swelling inside her. But before the girl left, she spoke softly, with sincerity that couldn't be hidden. "I don't know why you distanced yourself, but I've never been angry. If you need a friend, I'm still here."
Those words made Dinda freeze. Something inside her seemed to stir, but she didn't have the courage to respond. She only watched the girl's back as she walked away, feeling like a part of herself was lost, but still unable to reach out.
By the time they graduated from middle school, both of their attitudes had completely changed. Dinda had become even quieter, more shy, and more fearful. She found it difficult to open up to anyone, always haunted by guilt over how she had treated the girl. Meanwhile, the girl became someone full of energy, always carrying joy wherever she went, as if no wounds remained inside her.
They never spoke again after graduation. But in Dinda's heart, there was a regret that never went away. The girl was a reflection of what Dinda should have done—be brave, accept herself, and not be afraid of being different.
However, behind the girl's cheerfulness, there was something Dinda didn't know. A wound that was tightly kept, something only the girl herself could reveal. And now, as Dinda sees the shadow of that past reappear in her life, she knows—everything isn't truly over yet.