If Zara had known that signing up for a peer counselor training program would lead her to meet him, she would've turned around the moment she opened the email.
But instead, she sat in that white room, hands clasped, fingers digging into her own skin beneath the table as if pressure could control her nerves.
She wasn't here to make friends. She was here to forget~~to focus on something that wasn't the ache in her chest she hadn't been able to explain since that one phone call.
The room smelled like cheap instant coffee and unspoken trauma.
The facilitator, Miss Liyana, smiled as she walked to the center of the circle. "Let's begin with introductions. Just your name, and what brought you here. This is a safe space."
Zara blinked slowly. The words safe space never comforted her. They always felt like a warning.
A girl next to her spoke. "Hi, I'm Amira. I'm here because my sister struggles with panic attacks, and I want to be able to support her better."
A few node. Soft smiles. The kind of pain that doesn't explode~~it just lingers.
Next was a boy who looked no older than nineteen. "I'm I'm Hafiz. I'm here... because I think maybe I need this more than I thought."
When it was his turn, he barely moved.
The guy slouched in his seat, legs stretched out, one brow arched like he was already judging the room.
"Ari," he said, tapping his pen against his notepad. "I'm here because my therapist said I should top being a hermit. Not sure if this counts as progress or punishment."
A ripple of forced laughter spread through the group. A few giggled, unsure if they were supposed to. One person clapped awkwardly.
Zara didn't laugh. She hated people like that. People who deflected pain with sarcasm and pretended they weren't desperate for someone to notice they were drowning.
When it was her turn, she stood~~unlike Ari~~and held her voice steady.
"My name's Zara. I'm here because... I've seen what silence can do to people. I want to learn how to hold space for those who don't know how to ask for it."
There was a pause. Then someone quietly said, "That was beautiful."
But Ari? He gave her a golf clap.
Slow. Sarcastic. Loud enough to be disrespectful.
She didn't look at him. Not directly.
But her voice sharpened just enough.
"Some people hide behind jokes because they're terrified someone might actually see them."
Now that got his attention.
He leaned back, folding his arms. "And some people use deep-sounding lines to feel better about judging strangers."
"Okay," Miss Liyana interrupted gently. "Let's remember that this is a space for understanding, not competition."
Zara bit the inside of her cheek, the taste of blood grounding her.
This wasn't high school. She didn't need to win.
She just needed to survive the next six weeks.
~~~
The next day, she arrived early. Again.
The center's community room still smelled like the ghost of instant noodles and cheap disinfectant. She placed her notebook on the table, sat at the same seat, and avoided the one across from her.
Because that's where Ari had sat.
Of course, fate~~or something more cruel~~decide that would be the day Miss LIiyana said the worst words imaginable.
"We're going to pair up for today's exercises. Mock client-counselor simulations."
She held up a clipboard. Ari and Zara, you're together."
Zara's jaw clenched.
She didn't even bother to fake a smile.
~~~
He smirked as he took the seat in front of her. "Miss me?"
"You're like a toothache. Hard to ignore. Impossible to like."
"Flattered."
The roleplay began.
Ari played the client. She played the counselor.
Easy. They could get through this.
"Hi, I'm Zara," she said, taking a breath. "Thank you for being here today. Everything you share stays between us."
He raised an eyebrow, fully slipping into character. "Unless you decide I'm too broken and leave like everyone else."
The room went quieter. Too real.
Zara paused. "Why do you think people leave you?"
"Because I push them away before they can."
She stopped acting.
The words hit too close. Her throat tightened.
But she stayed in character.
"That sounds exhausting," she said softly.
He looked at her~~and for a split second, something cracked. Not broken. But cracked.
"I got good at it, he whispered.
Then he smirked again, sitting back. "You're not bad at this. Not great, But no bad."
Zara rolled her eyes. Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Therapy compliments are still compliments."
The exercise ended. Miss Liyana praised performance, calling it "deeply compelling."
Zara barely heard her.
Because she realized something far worse than just being paired with someone she disliked.
She didn't dislike Ari.
She understood him.
And that was so much worse.
~~~
That night, she stared at her ceiling fan, unable to sleep.
Ari's words echoed in her head: I push them away before they can.
She'd done the same.
She'd lost people because she never let them close.
And now, for some reason, the universe had dropped her into a six-week program with someone who held a mirror up to all the parts of herself she worked so hard to hide.