With You, I Began

Chapter 3: The Push

The morning sun peeked through Moana’s window, casting golden streaks across her room. She stared at the ceiling, Ravi’s words from the day before looping in her mind. “Miss Top Student.” It was a small comment, probably something Ravi tossed out without thinking, but it clung to her like a thread pulling her toward something she wasn’t sure she was ready to unravel.

Downstairs, the usual chaos of her mother’s morning routine echoed through the house—pots clanging, her mother muttering ... You know what.

Moana sat up with a sigh. Today was different. It had to be.

---

At school, History class rolled around faster than she’d hoped. Ravi was already waiting for her when she walked in, lounging in the chair next to hers as if it were a throne.

“Morning, partner,” he said, flashing her a grin.

“Morning,” she replied quietly, slipping into her seat.

“Alright,” Ravi said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “What’s the game plan? I’m good with research, presenting, and—” he hesitated, his grin widening—“moral support. What do you need?”

Moana frowned, caught off guard by his enthusiasm. She’d expected him to coast along, maybe dump all the work on her, but here he was, ready to collaborate.

“I—uh—haven’t decided yet,” she admitted. “Maybe we should start by picking a topic.”

“Cool,” Ravi said, pulling out his notebook. “You’re the boss. Any ideas?”

Moana hesitated. She hadn’t thought about it much, but a thought floated to the surface. “Maybe something about revolutions. Like...how ordinary people changed history.”

Ravi raised an eyebrow. “Ordinary people, huh? Like us?”

She shrugged, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Sure. Why not?”

“Alright, I’m in. Let’s start with the French Revolution,” Ravi said. “Because who doesn’t love a good guillotine story?”

Moana stifled a laugh. “Fine, but we’re focusing on the actual people, not just the drama.”

“Got it, boss,” Ravi said, scribbling in his notebook.

For the first time, Moana felt a strange sense of ease working with someone else. Ravi’s energy was infectious, and she found herself loosening up, speaking her thoughts aloud instead of keeping them locked away.

---

The school day ended with a heavy downpour. By the time Moana reached the front gates, the rain was coming down in sheets, drenching everything in sight. She sighed, pulling her hood over her head and bracing herself to walk home.

“Hey, Moana!” a voice called.

She turned to see Aisha, holding an umbrella that looked far too flimsy to survive the storm.

“You need a ride? My dad’s parked over there,” Aisha offered, gesturing toward a car idling near the curb.

Moana hesitated. She wasn’t used to people offering her anything, let alone kindness. But the thought of walking home soaked to the bone wasn’t appealing.

“Thanks,” she said finally, stepping under the umbrella.

The ride was quiet but comfortable. Aisha’s dad made polite small talk, and Aisha mostly stared out the window. When they pulled up in front of Moana’s house, Aisha turned to her with a small smile.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Moana said, smiling back.

---

That evening, Moana sat at her desk, flipping through pages of history books and taking notes. Ravi had been surprisingly helpful, sending her messages with articles and ideas he’d found online.

Her mother’s voice drifted through the house again, this time talking to her aunt on the phone.

"She's such a natural leader,” her mother gushed. “She’s already organizing her school’s annual day. That girl is going places.”

Moana gritted her teeth and focused on her notes. For once, she didn’t want to let her mother’s words sting.

Instead, she wrote in her diary:

> Dear Diary,
Ravi’s not what I expected. He actually listens to me, like what I say matters. And Aisha… I think she might actually want to be my friend.

Maybe I’m not invisible after all. Maybe I’ve just been hiding.

She closed the diary and stared out the window. The rain had stopped, leaving the world looking cleaner, fresher.

For the first time, Moana felt the same way.