R O R Y

12 || Presentation

XAVIER

As I sit in my car, watching Rory walk up to her house, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. I never expected to feel this way about her-or about anyone, really. Growing up, my parents always pushed me to be the best, to be strong, and to never show weakness. It's a hard shell to crack, but Rory's done it without even trying.

I drive home, my mind racing with thoughts about her. How does she manage to face her fears every single day? I think about her words, about the constant battle she fights with her OCD. She's stronger than she realizes, and I respect her more than I ever thought possible.

The next morning, I wake up early. It's the day of our big presentation in English class, and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly. Rory and I have put in a lot of work, and I don't want to let her down.

As I get ready, I can't stop thinking about her. About how she's changed my perspective on so many things. I never thought I'd see the day when I actually wanted to go to school, let alone work on a project. But here I am, eager to get there and see her.

In English class, we present our project on Macbeth. Rory's nervous, I can tell, but she handles it with grace. I'm proud of her, and when Mrs. Whitman praises our work, I see a small, relieved smile on Rory's face. It's a good feeling, knowing I helped her get to this point.

After class, we part ways to go to our next classes. I have a free period, so I decide to head to the library to get some work done. As I walk through the halls, I think about the journey we've been on. It's crazy how much things have changed in such a short time.

Lunchtime comes around, and I spot Rory sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria. I grab my tray and head over to join her. She looks up, surprised but pleased.

"Hey," I say, sitting down across from her. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," she replies, her smile warm. "How's your day going?"

"Pretty good," I say, taking a bite of my sandwich. "That presentation went well, huh?"

"Yeah," she agrees, nodding. "Thanks for being there with me. It made it a lot easier."

"No problem," I say, feeling a swell of pride. "We make a good team."

We chat about school and our project, falling into an easy rhythm. It's strange, this new friendship, but it feels right. Rory brings out a side of me I didn't know existed, and I find myself wanting to be a better person because of her.

The next few days pass in a blur of classes, homework, and project work. Rory and I spend a lot of time together, and I start to notice things about her that I hadn't before. The way she bites her lip when she's concentrating, the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she's passionate about. She's different from anyone I've ever known, and I like that.

One afternoon, we decide to take a break from studying and go for a walk in the park. It's a beautiful day, and the fresh air feels good. As we walk, I can't help but ask her something that's been on my mind.

"Rory," I begin, glancing over at her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she says, looking curious.

"Do you ever feel like your OCD is a part of you, but it doesn't define you?" I ask, genuinely wanting to understand her better.

She thinks about my question for a moment before replying. "I guess so. It's a big part of my life, but it's not all that I am. I have dreams, interests, things I want to do that have nothing to do with OCD."

I nod, impressed by her perspective. "That's a good way to look at it. I think sometimes we let our struggles define us too much."

"Yeah," she says, smiling. "But we're more than our struggles."