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Nearby, a blonde woman with funny heart-shaped red glasses was drawing landscapes, a half-eaten piece of chocolate cake in front of her.
The coffee shop was otherwise empty.
My phone beeped again.
C.C:
I can still see u lol
I turned my head quickly towards the window, almost spilling my drink, and spotted Claire across the street, laughing and waving at me. She hurriedly crossed the street and entered the coffee shop and walked directly to my table, sitting down beside me.
“Hey girly! I knew I’d track you down here,” Claire said, slipping off her jean jacket and grabbing my spoon to sneak a bite of my lemon pie slice. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. “Gosh, this place seriously makes the best pies.”
I sat there in silence, my mouth hanging open as I stared at her.
She turned to me, furrowing her brows. “What’s up? Is there something in my teeth?”
“I… I’m just surprised to see you here.”
Claire chuckled and shrugged. “I figured you could use some company while studying.”
I scoffed, feeling my frustration bubble up. "It’s pretty ironic you're saying that now, considering you left me alone last night just to hook up with some random bartender."
She playfully tickled my side. "Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude! If you could, you’d do the same, I know it!"
My eyes widened. “Leaving you alone and intoxicated in an unfamiliar place just for a fling? No, Claire, I’d never do that. I’m not that shallow.”
She gasped.
Slowly, she rose from her seat, swiped my drink, took a hefty gulp, and slammed it down.
“Let me clue you in, girly. It’s no fucking surprise no guy wants to give you the time of day when your head is so far stuck up your own damn ass. You seriously need to lighten up. Life doesn’t have to be so damn serious. Anyway, the shallow princess is outta here now. Good luck with your exams; you’ll definitely need it.”
With that, she snatched the last piece of my lemon slice, grabbed her jacket, and stormed out.
Her words landed like a sharp, unexpected blow.
I sank back into my seat, my throat tight.
Being judged for who I am, without any understanding of what I’ve endured, cuts deeper than words can express.
I’ve never really shared my past with Claire or any of my old friends; I didn’t think they needed to know how unstable my life was.
The constant moving, the lack of real roots—each new place felt like a temporary shelter rather than a home.
I remember lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if we’d stay longer than a year. It’s exhausting trying to keep friendships when you’re always the new kid, the one just passing through.
There were times I’d get close to someone, and just when I’d start to feel safe, we’d pack up and leave again.
I’ll always carry the weight of all the goodbyes I never got to say.
Knowing that people who once meant the world to me have probably forgotten my name leaves a hollow ache.
And as much as I wanted to trust Claire and let her in, I can’t shake the fear that I’ll end up disappearing again and leaving her behind. I wish I could tell her all this, but I’m scared she’d see me differently or, even worse, pity me and … I don’t think I could handle that.
This fear runs deep within me. After my papa died, my life lost its color. At just six years old, I had to build walls around my heart to get through the pain and keep going. It’s a heavy load to carry, with unseen scars that others don’t see.
Yet, this is the nature of our existence—we craft facades to shield our vulnerable truths, fearful that revealing them will provoke rejection and disdain from a world quick to judge.
