I'm here.
Coming.
Nalea glanced around the parking lot, scanning for him. Her heart skipped a little when she saw him approaching.
This school… it was massive—nearly twice the size of the one she'd gone to before.
"Hey."
"Oh!? Are you Eric?"
He nodded once.
"You look so different."
"You look the same."
Nalea smiled. "It's nice meeting you again, Eric."
Another nod. Short. Quiet.
"Where's your luggage?" he asked.
"In the boot."
"Okay."
His clipped answers made her chest tighten. Eric had changed. Just a few years without contact, and he felt like a different person—reserved, controlled. He used to talk more… laugh more.
"Umm… I have soccer practice in an hour," he said finally. "So I don't think I can show you around the school."
"You play soccer?"
He nodded.
"Wow… that's cool."
Her voice sounded a little disappointed, and she noticed his eyes narrow for just a moment. But he said nothing.
"Where do you practice?"
"The school field."
"Oh…"
Her words came out softer than she intended.
"Can I come?"
"Sure. Might be boring, though."
"It's fine."
⸻
They reached her dorm without another word. The silence was awkward—unfamiliar. Nalea wasn't used to this quiet version of Eric.
"I'll put my stuff inside, then we can go to the soccer field," she said.
Later, she sat on the porch near the field, watching him practice. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the grass as players moved quickly, calling to each other.
He was… incredible. Faster than she expected, every movement precise, confident, effortless. But something felt… off.
She noticed the tension almost immediately.
Eric passed the ball, but the captain blew the whistle sharply.
"Pay attention, Eric. That wasn't the call."
Eric clenched his jaw but stayed silent.
The drill resumed, but he moved differently now—sharper, more aggressive, almost as if he were proving something.
Suddenly, Nalea understood.
This wasn't just soccer. It was pride. Pressure. And something Eric wasn't ready to say aloud.
⸻
Practice ended. The sun was low, painting the sky orange and pink. Players trickled off, laughter fading behind them.
"Ready?" Eric asked.
She nodded.
They walked back toward her dorm together. The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore—it felt calm.
They stopped at the entrance. The dorm towered over them, unfamiliar, quiet. For a moment, neither spoke. The campus around them murmured with distant voices, footsteps, rustling leaves.
Eric shifted his weight, gaze on the ground, then finally looked up.
"What are you having for dinner?"
"Not sure… maybe takeout."
"Do you know how to cook now?"
Nalea shook her head. "No… not really. Only simple dishes."
He nodded once, as if he'd already known. His face remained calm, but his eyes softened.
"I'll cook for you," he said quietly.
Her brow furrowed. "You mean… today?"
"Every day."
She turned fully to him, surprised. "Whattttt!?"
"You don't want it?"
"But…"
"But what?"
"I… I don't want to bother you."
"Kiddo, you've never been a problem to me."
He patted her head gently.
Nalea searched his face. He was smiling—a rare sight these days.
"Thank you. Really."
"You're welcome."
He stepped back, adjusting his bag.
"I'll come by later."
She nodded.
He walked away, leaving her with a quiet promise—and a million little questions she didn't ask.
⸻
That evening, she sat on her bed, staring at the door more times than she cared to admit. The room felt too clean, too quiet, like it hadn't quite accepted her yet.
A soft knock broke the silence.
She opened the door.
Eric stood there, carrying a small bag and a container.
"I made something."
She stepped aside to let him in.
"You didn't have to rush."
"I didn't."
He set the food on the desk. The aroma alone made her realize how hungry she actually was.
"What is it?"
"Nothing special."
She opened the container. Steam rose, warm and comforting. She took a bite… and froze.
"This is really good."
"It's okay."
"More than okay." She smiled at him. "You've gotten really good."
He didn't respond. He just watched her for a moment, then glanced around the room.
"You settling in?"
"Trying… it's still weird."
He nodded. Silence fell again—but now it wasn't uncomfortable. It was gentle.
After a while, she spoke.
"You don't talk much."
He stiffened slightly. "Yeah."
"I just notice."
"Things change," he said quietly.
What Nalea didn't know was that he'd been upset since the afternoon—long before he saw her. He'd missed the Elite Student-Athlete Scholarship list by just one position. One name away. Close enough to hurt.
So he stayed quiet. Silence was easier than admitting how much it bothered him.
Nalea seemed to sense it anyway. She didn't push, didn't fill the space with words. Somehow, that made the weight lighter.
Finally, he spoke again, calm and quiet.
"Tomorrow is your first day here, kiddo. Don't overthink it… just do your best."
He smiled gently, patted her head again, then turned.
"Good night, kiddo."
Nalea felt warmth in that simple gesture. She watched him leave, footsteps fading, and the room felt a little more like home.
Collapsing onto her bed, she let out a tired laugh. "First day tomorrow… better get some sleep."
Her phone buzzed beside her, but she ignored it, carrying Eric's quiet words with her as she drifted off.