Beside

32 - grapple

"Jellybean, what's the best gift you've ever gotten?"

"When you hugged me when I was sad. It was rainy. You were sunshine, Fox."

ｃｈｒｉｓ

Morning sun spills from my window and seeps into my cheeks, saying Hello, be calm, all is well. But I am not calm.

I straighten the hem of my blue knitted sweater, the soft wool catching the early light as I glance down at my white skirt. It flutters in the breeze from my open window. Yes, today is a day for movement, for things to shift.

My ceramic frog croaks again, shaking its green head at me. Is it the outfit? My facial expression? "Leave me be," I mutter, huffing.

Fox's fight is today. Soon. My hands tremble over my belly, my breath uneven. My goodness, I can't imagine what Fox is feeling. Is he as scared as me? I imagine not since he's been in fights before.

Cam said this one is scarier though, that Onyx is scarier.

I take a deep breath, but it feels like the air is too thin up here, overlooking Goldwen. Or maybe I'm too thin. I don't know.

I tug on the hem of my skirt one last time, forcing myself to smile. You're fine. You're here. You're going. My heart quivers like a trapped bird. Stop.

I nod to my frog and leave my room, heading for the kitchen.

The air smells like coffee. Charlie snoozes on the couch, his tiny paws twitching as if he's chasing something in a dream.

Cam and Noah are at the island matching in dark hoodies with different GoldwenU logos. They're lost in a soft conversation. He tucks a curl of her hair behind her ear as she traces the rim of his coffee cup, talking about something quietly.

I feel a pang in my chest. It's not jealousy. It's not even longing. It's just... a quiet ache. I see them, and it makes me realize how far away I feel from something like that. How I've never experienced anything remotely close. Something that steady. I like to think I might someday, but... Well, I hope.

Noah's eyes flicker toward me, his expression gentle, like a warm hand resting on your shoulder. "Hey, Chris. You good?"

I must look halfway to terror. I plaster on a grin, willing my nerves to settle. "I'm good. You guys?"

"Chris!" Before I can process, Cam's jumping from her seat, snatching a plastic bag from the counter, and bounding toward me. "I got you something for school!"

She shoves it into my hands. Inside are notebooks, bright like rainbows, the kind you'd never be afraid to write the wrong thing in. There's a planner too, the cover adorned with butterflies, their delicate wings frozen mid-flight.

"Whitney says you love butterflies. So, now you've got a flock. Are they a flock? A bundle? Doesn't matter."

A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it down, blinking as warmth spreads through my chest. "Cam, this is..." I look up at her smiling dark eyes. "Thank you so much."

She waves it off, but I can see the pride. "You've been stalling on choosing your classes for weeks, so this is me helping you out. Consider it a kick in the ass."

Her words are light, but I'm dragged to a time I'd rather not remember. The IV line that snaked through my arm all the way to my heart. I'd trace the tubes, turn them into vines, spiralling with life, butterflies perched on its leaves, their wings soft whispers of freedom.

No one brought me colourful pens or cute notebooks back then. We were all too focused on survival.

I take out the butterfly planner and brush a thumb over the cover. One of the wings twitches off the page and flutters around Cam's head before heading out to the balcony, phasing through the glass to start a new life.