The morning sun slipped through the blinds of my small dorm room, casting warm stripes of light across the white sheets. My space was simple — a narrow bed tucked against the wall, a wooden desk crowded with freshly bought notebooks, and a wardrobe standing neatly in the corner. On the desk sat a single framed photo from home, the faces of my family smiling back at me, reminding me why I was here.
I woke up feeling more rejuvenated than ever. Today was my first day at Harvard, and excitement bubbled inside me. I sprang out of bed with an enthusiasm I could hardly contain. Somehow, deep inside, I knew this was the beginning of something greater than myself.
I brushed my teeth, took a warm bath, and dressed carefully in an outfit I had chosen the night before. Standing in front of the mirror, I gave myself a little nod. You belong here, I whispered, tightening the strap of my bag.
Stepping outside, I inhaled deeply. The morning air was crisp and fresh, like the first page of a new chapter. I didn't bother taking a cab — it was only a ten-minute walk, and besides, I needed to save money. My scholarship didn't cover food expenses, and I knew I'd have to find a job soon to support myself if I wanted to continue my education.
Halfway to campus, I stopped at a small café. The smell of fresh pastries was irresistible. I bought a hot coffee and a croissant to go, nibbling as I walked, my mind buzzing with thoughts of what awaited me.
By the time I reached the front gates of Harvard, the excitement had settled into something heavier — responsibility. I paused, clutching my bag tighter. I can't fail, I said to myself firmly.
Just then, fate intervened. As I stepped through the wide entrance, I bumped into someone. Books tumbled to the ground, along with a stethoscope that clattered against the pavement. The girl in front of me bent quickly, her golden hair falling across her face, her white lab coat slipping off one shoulder. She was beautiful, no doubt — with blue eyes and a heart-shaped mouth — but there was something shy and clumsy about her.
"Sorry," she whispered, her lashes fluttering nervously.
"It's okay, no harm done," I said gently, bending down to help her. I picked up her books and handed them over with a small smile. "I'm Aisha. What's yours?" I extended my hand.
"Amelia," she replied, her voice soft but warm. She shook my hand lightly. "Nice to meet you. So… are you new here?"
"Yes," I nodded. "Today's my first day. And you?"
Her lips curved into a small smile as she hugged her books to her chest. "Today is mine as well."
I shifted my bag nervously and asked, "Hmmmm… so please, do you know where the medical lecture room is?"
Amelia's face brightened as if relieved by the question. "Ohhh, that's where I'm also heading. Come, let me take you there," she replied, her blue eyes glinting with friendliness.
"Ohhh really? Let's go then — thanks," I said, falling into step beside her.
"No worries. You're welcome," she answered softly, adjusting the strap of her bag as we began walking together.
The hallway stretched long before us, filled with other students rushing to their destinations. Some carried coffee cups, others chatted in groups, and a few looked as nervous as I felt. Amelia's presence steadied me, though. Her steps were light, almost hurried, but she slowed down to match my pace.
As we walked, I couldn't help but feel that meeting her wasn't just coincidence. Maybe Harvard wasn't going to be as lonely as I had feared.