Chapter 3
The days passed quickly, and soon it was time for our cooking project. Our teacher instructed us to prepare the necessary ingredients for our dishes. I was assigned to make the main course the one I had been practicing repeatedly while my groupmates handled the appetizer, dessert, and drinks.
When everything was ready, the teacher signaled us to begin and started the timer. The room filled with nervous energy; everyone was anxious, but I focused on my task with confidence, following the instructions my grandmother had taught me. I moved step by step, just as I did during practice.
As I neared the final stage, I saw that my groupmates were also almost done. All that was left for me was the plating, so I asked our team leader to help arrange the presentation.
When everyone finished, it was time for the judges a few of our teachers to taste our dishes. Our group was in the fourth row, and with each presentation before ours, the tension built. Finally, it was our turn. Our team leader presented the dish I had made, along with the others' food and drinks.
After a while, the teacher announced the winners. To our surprise and joy, we won first place. We celebrated by eating the food we had saved for ourselves. I let everyone eat to their heart's content while I quietly took a bit of the appetizer and a drink, then sat in a corner to rest.
A few moments later, she joined me, Rose. She grabbed the same things I did and sat beside me.
"Are you not going to eat with them?" I asked.
She smiled faintly. "I'm too tired. My social battery's drained already, hehe. I'll just eat properly when I get home. How about you?"
"I'm also too tired," I replied, chuckling. "The pressure while cooking drained me."
We talked for a while before heading back to class to continue our day.
A week passed since the project ended, and I began noticing that my connection with Rose was slowly fading. Our laughter, our small talks they all started to disappear. It felt like she was distancing herself from me, and I couldn't help but wonder, what did I do for you to leave me behind?
A few days later, unable to bear the weight of uncertainty, I decided to confess my feelings. I didn't have the courage to do it face-to-face, so I messaged her instead. I asked if she had time to talk. She didn't reply not that day, not the next. Her silence was already an answer that frightened me.
After three long days, she finally responded.
"Oh, sorry I didn't reply earlier," she said. "I've been busy with family stuff. So, what did you want to ask?"
Gathering what little courage I had left, I replied, "Rose, I want to be honest with you. I've liked you for quite some time now. I just don't understand why you suddenly became distant."
She read the message and then blocked me.
My heart shattered. I sat there staring at the screen, thoughts flooding my mind. Why? Did I do something wrong? Am I ugly? Am I not enough? Questions piled up endlessly until they drowned every other thought.
Days passed. I stopped going to school, lost all motivation, and blamed myself. People said it was just a simple rejection, but they didn't know how much it hurt to be ignored to be cut off as if I were nothing more than disposable trash.
A week went by, and my absence worried my mother. She couldn't understand why her once-bright, social son now refused to leave his room. Even when she invited me to eat out, I refused, saying I was just tired or burned out from school.
Then one of my close friends from school texted me, asking if I was okay. I told him I was just recovering from an illness. But then he asked something that made my chest tighten he said a rumor was spreading around the Grade 10 department: that I confessed to Rose and got rejected.
I felt anger boiling inside me. Was she making fun of me? Was it all a joke to her? I asked my friend where the rumor came from and if Rose was the one who spread it. He said, "I just overheard some girls laughing about it near the boys' bathroom. They said you confessed to Rose, got blocked, and they laughed about it. But no Rose wasn't the one who spread it. After they laughed, she came out of the girls' bathroom looking irritated and told them to stop. She didn't seem like she was part of it."
Returning to school after days of hiding felt like stepping into a world that had moved on without me. The familiar hallways, once vibrant with laughter and chatter, now seemed distant, almost alien, as if I had been erased from the rhythm of life itself. I moved quietly, head down, trying to avoid attention, yet every glance from classmates felt heavy, loaded with whispers I could only imagine. The rumor about Rose had spread further than I anticipated, twisting and turning in the hallways, carried by voices I could not control. Each retelling added a sharp edge to my shame, a sting that made my chest tighten as though the air itself were conspiring against me. And yet, amid the swirling embarrassment and confusion, a small, stubborn part of me refused to surrender entirely to despair.
I noticed the familiar faces of friends who reached out cautiously, offering smiles that carried understanding without judgment. Even in their brief gestures a nod, a light question about homework, or a quiet conversation in passing there was a reminder that life did not end because someone I cared for withdrew from me. That evening, alone in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed, replaying the events of the past week over and over, the words she never spoke echoing louder than any rejection I could endure. And while the ache in my chest remained, I began to recognize a strange, quiet resilience forming in its place a realization that my worth was not dictated by her attention or the fleeting judgment of others, but by the choices I made, the kindness I carried, and the small courage it took to face each day, even when the heart felt heavy and the world seemed indifferent.
To be continued...