Lyra woke to a soft drizzle tapping against the dorm window. The gray light made everything feel quieter than usual, a kind of calm that she both appreciated and feared.
Talia was already awake, bouncing around the room like a storm contained in a human body.
"Lyra! Come on! Breakfast's ready and the cafeteria has… oh my gosh, they made cinnamon rolls!" Talia's voice carried a bright energy that filled the otherwise dull room.
Lyra blinked, sitting up and brushing her hair back. "Cinnamon rolls… right." She followed, notebook tucked safely under her arm.
By the time they reached the cafeteria, Lyra had learned two things:
The cafeteria was far too loud for quiet thoughts.
Talia would talk non-stop about everything, whether anyone cared or not.
As they sat, Talia leaned in conspiratorially. "So… I have to tell you something. You might want to sit down for this."
Lyra raised an eyebrow, stirring her tea. "I doubt it's that serious."
"It's about Kael," Talia said, lowering her voice. She glanced around to make sure no one overheard. "There's… a girl. A side girl. People talk. They say she's been with him since last semester. She's… well, everyone says she's smart, confident… and he's kind of obsessed with her."
Lyra's hand tightened on her mug. Hot tea spilled slightly onto the table. "I… see," she said carefully, trying to sound neutral. Obsession. Side girl. Kael. Fantastic.
Talia leaned back, smirking. "Don't look so scared. I mean… you didn't exactly see them together yet, did you?"
Lyra shook her head. She hadn't, not directly. But her mind had pieced together fragments—glances, subtle touches, small gestures she had noticed from afar. The realization settled into her chest like a weight she hadn't expected.
Later, in the quiet of her dorm room, Lyra opened her notebook. The rumors from Talia circled in her mind. She wanted to ignore them, wanted to pretend they didn't exist—but curiosity gnawed at her.
She picked up her pen and wrote.
Dear Stranger,
Today, I learned of someone else. A presence I had not noticed directly, but whose shadow seems to stretch over everything. A girl. Kael's side girl, as the whispers call her. She is supposed to be brilliant, confident, important… and yet, I am here. Observing. Waiting. Not reacting.
I do not know what this means. Perhaps it means nothing. Perhaps it changes everything.
— L.
She paused, reading the lines back to herself. The words felt heavy, but also strangely freeing. Writing them down made the situation less threatening. It made her aware, aware enough to act—not to panic.
Then, as if on cue, another letter appeared on her desk. Lyra didn't remember leaving it there. She picked it up carefully, eyes scanning the neat handwriting.
Dear L,
I hear you're worried about side girls and shadows. Good. Worrying is a human skill, one you wield well.
Also, did you know that squirrels in the quad are plotting against you? True story. I saw one yesterday giving the cardinal a suspicious look. You must be careful—they're subtle but deadly.
Yours,
A Friend
Lyra stared at the page for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, a laugh bubbled up from her chest. A full, unrestrained laugh that made her cheeks ache.
For the first time in weeks, she felt like a normal student, not a ghost moving through campus halls. The absurdity of a squirrel conspiracy made the fear of the side girl, Kael's attention, and dorm rules momentarily vanish.
She scribbled a reply immediately, smiling to herself:
Dear Friend,
Noted. I will watch the squirrels carefully. I may need a small army of pigeons for backup.
— L.
Kael, somewhere in the shadows of the campus, read the letters later. He allowed himself the faintest of smiles. The human had humor. She could see absurdity and react without losing herself. That was… rare. And that rarity made her all the more intriguing.
The next day, the quad was bustling with students. Lyra moved carefully, notebook under arm, glancing at the fountains, the pathways, and the library entrances. She saw Kael, of course. Leaning against a tree, unreadable, his gaze sweeping over the crowd—but every so often, it drifted toward her.
And then she noticed the girl. The side girl. Standing near Kael now, laughing softly at something he said. Her posture was perfect, her presence commanding attention without shouting. Lyra's chest tightened.
No panic, she reminded herself. Observe. Learn. Choose.
She passed them at a careful distance, pretending not to notice the subtle glance Kael sent her. It wasn't a smile. It wasn't an invitation. But it was enough.
By evening, Talia had returned, bubbling with gossip about the day.
"You saw him, didn't you?" she asked, eyes sparkling.
Lyra shook her head faintly. "I… glanced."
Talia leaned in, lowering her voice. "It's worse than I thought. That girl… she knows Kael. He… behaves differently around her. But here's the fun part—he also notices you. And I swear, sometimes it's like he's measuring everything you do, just quietly. Not in a bad way. Just… noticing."
Lyra's stomach twisted. She didn't like attention. She didn't want it. And yet… she felt it, subtle and persistent, like the first push of a tide she couldn't resist.
That night, Lyra returned to her notebook. She wrote:
Dear Stranger,
Rumors are more dangerous than truth, sometimes. Today, I laughed for the first time in weeks. At squirrels plotting in the quad. Perhaps it is foolish, but humor is a shield as strong as silence. I will keep both.
I do not know how to feel about her. Kael's other girl. The one everyone whispers about. I only know I notice. And I do not panic. Not yet.
— L.
The words gave her a small comfort. She had survived the day. She had laughed. She had observed. And, perhaps most importantly, she had chosen how to react.
Somewhere, Kael's presence lingered like a shadow she could not see.
And for the first time, Lyra realized that being noticed wasn't entirely dangerous.
It could also be… interesting.