"Sometimes you have to let go of the life you planned to find the one that's waiting for you." ~Joseph Campbell
Selina couldn't look away. She stared at him in a daze, and the thought came unbidden:
How come I never noticed the existence of such a beautiful person?
She had spent three years in the same classroom as him. Three years, and she had never really looked.
They stood side by side in the quiet, watching the sun climb higher, his jacket still wrapped around her shoulders.
"Do you want coffee?" Michael asked eventually. "Or hot chocolate?"
Selina considered. They would sleep soon, and coffee would keep her awake. "Hot chocolate."
He nodded, and they went inside together.
The kitchen was quiet, the rest of the house still asleep. Michael moved with ease, heating milk, stirring in cocoa, his movements unhurried. Selina sat at the small table, watching him, and felt something settle in her chest, something warm, something safe.
He brought two mugs to the table and sat across from her. They drank in comfortable silence, the steam rising between them, the first light of morning filtering through the window.
When the mugs were empty, Michael stood. "We should sleep."
Selina nodded, but she didn't move. She didn't want the morning to end.
Michael waited.
Finally, she stood. "Thank you," she said. "For everything."
He gave her a small smile.
When Selina woke, the house was already stirring with the sounds of packing and farewells. She dressed quickly and joined the others downstairs.
The mood was bittersweet. Laughter mixed with reluctant goodbyes. Plans were made, we'll meet again, we'll text, we won't let so much time pass next time, promises that everyone made and half believed.
Selina moved through the crowd, her eyes scanning. She found Michael near the door, his bag already packed, saying goodbye to Asper and Rory. Rory was making him promise to cook for them again; Asper had her hand wrapped over his shoulder like buddies.
Michael caught Selina's gaze. He smiled and her heart gave a strange little skip.
She slipped out the front door after him.
He was standing at the gate, his bag at his feet, waiting for a taxi. When he saw her, his expression softened.
She tucked her hands into her pockets, suddenly shy. "I'm glad you didn't leave yet. I wanted to say goodbye."
Michael smiled.
"Let's keep meeting," Selina said. Her voice was steadier than she felt. "Every now and then. I don't want this friendship to end." She met his eyes. "You're someone I don't want to forget."
Michael looked at her for a long moment. Then he smiled, a real smile, warm and unguarded.
"Okay."
Relief flooded through her. "I'm here for a few more days. If you're free, let's hang out again... Just the two of us." She averted her eyes, suddenly nervous.
"I'm free," he said. "Whenever you want."
"Then, I'll text you." She said shyly with anticipation.
"Yeah."
A taxi pulled up. Michael picked up his bag, then paused. "Selina?"
"Yeah?"
He held her gaze. "Take care."
Something in his voice made her chest tighten.
He climbed into the taxi, and she watched until it disappeared down the road.
Selina left last, after everyone else had gone. Then she got into her car and drove home.
She would listen to Michael's advice. She would give her mother space, let the sharp words pass without response, pretend the indifference didn't cut.
The next day, Selina messaged him.
[Selina: Are you free tonight?]
His reply came quickly.
[Michael: I am. Dinner?]
[Selina: Dinner. And maybe something after. I'll find a place.]
[Michael: Sounds good. Send me the address.]
She smiled at her phone, already looking forward to the evening. It was an unofficial date, but they both called it hanging out with a friend.
The sun was setting outside her window, painting the sky pink and gold. She watched it for a moment, thinking of Michael's words, of the sun that rises even though it knows it will set.
It gives everything, even for a moment.
She was beginning to understand what he meant.