Finding a way back to her!

Freen never left things to chance. Her world revolved around schedules, structure, and order—things she could control. Being late was unthinkable. Yet, today, chaos ruled her morning. She had spent the night consumed by a gripping book, unable to tear herself away from its pages until the early hours of dawn. When her alarm finally pulled her from restless slumber, her heart sank at the sight of the ticking clock. There was no time to waste. 

Throwing on her uniform, grabbing her bag, and bolting out the door, Freen barely caught the bus. Relief washed over her as she reached school on time, but her sense of calm quickly unraveled. The campus was vast, unfamiliar, and unyielding to her attempts to find her new classroom. Anxiety pricked at her like sharp thorns as she darted through hallways, scanning signs that seemed to mock her urgency. 

Finally, she arrived—seconds too late. Her heart drummed wildly as she paused outside the door, debating her next move. Pushing it open cautiously, she stepped inside, eyes downcast. 

“May I come in, ma’am?” Freen asked, her voice soft but steady. Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios: reprimands, judgment, humiliation. 

But none of that came. Instead, the teacher offered her a warm smile. “You must be the new student, Freen Sarocha,” she said. “Welcome. Do you want to introduce yourself to the class?”

Freen froze. Her throat felt tight, her palms clammy. Every pair of eyes in the room fixed on her, expectant. Dragging out her words, Freen muttered, “Hmmm… my name is Freen Sarocha.” It was as much as she could manage. Without waiting for a response, she moved to the nearest empty desk and sat down, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

The girl beside her gave a friendly laugh. “That’s quite an introduction. By the way, I’m Nam,” she said, her tone cheerful. Freen merely nodded, unwilling to engage further. 

Two rows ahead, Becky Armstrong watched intently. As the class’s resident extrovert, Becky had seen plenty of newcomers before, but Freen was different. She carried an air of mystery, her expression blank yet her eyes betraying a depth that seemed unreachable. Becky found herself intrigued, her gaze lingering on the girl who seemed so out of place yet so composed. 

Freen felt it—that faint, unfamiliar sensation of being watched. She glanced up, her eyes meeting Becky’s. Time seemed to halt for a fraction of a second, her breath hitching without explanation. Becky quickly turned away, avoiding awkwardness, but the moment had etched itself into Freen’s mind.

The teacher, Ms. Nonita, broke the tension. “I’m your classroom teacher,” she said, addressing Freen with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be teaching science and English, and you can come to me for advice or support anytime.” 

As the lecture began, Freen’s focus shifted to the subject at hand, eager to absorb every word. But Becky couldn’t help herself; her gaze drifted back to the newcomer from time to time. There was something about Freen that made Becky curious—a quiet intrigue that she couldn’t shake.