Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
3RD PERSON (narrative)
Nika paced back and forth in the shared lounge of the basketball dorm, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her mind was racing, replaying the moment over and over again—Rylee standing there, her scars exposed, shutting her out like she always did when things got too personal.
She had stormed out of Rylee's dorm to clear her head, but instead of feeling better, she felt worse. The ache in her chest only deepened with each passing second. She hated leaving Rylee alone like that, but she didn't know what else to do.
"Hey, Nika," Sasha's calm voice broke through her thoughts. Nika turned to see her teammate and best friend lounging on one of the couches, a textbook open on her lap. Sasha raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing Nika's distressed state. "You've been pacing for, like, twenty minutes. What's going on?"
Nika hesitated for a moment, then sighed heavily and plopped down on the couch opposite Sasha. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends. "It's Rylee," she admitted, her voice tense.
Sasha closed her textbook, her full attention now on Nika. "What about her?"
Nika hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I... I saw her scars, Sasha. They're everywhere. On her back, her stomach, her arms. And when I asked her about it, she just... shut me down. She said it was from hockey, but I know she's lying. It's not just hockey. It can't be."
Sasha's expression didn't change. She leaned back, crossing her arms as she studied Nika carefully. "Okay. So, what did you do?"
"I..." Nika swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "I got frustrated. I told her I needed space, and I left. I couldn't handle her shutting me out again. I love her, Sasha, but I don't know what to do anymore. She won't let me in."
Sasha was silent for a moment, her gaze steady but unreadable. Finally, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Look, Nika. I get that you're scared. You're worried about her, and you want to help. But you can't force her to talk to you."
"I'm not trying to force her," Nika said quickly, her voice defensive. "I just... I need to understand what's going on with her. She's clearly been through something, and it's killing me that she won't tell me."
"I know," Sasha said gently. "But you need to think about this from her perspective. Whatever she's been through, it's obviously something she's not ready to talk about. And yeah, it's frustrating, but you can't make this about you."
Nika blinked, the words hitting harder than she expected. "I'm not making it about me," she muttered, though even she could hear the doubt in her own voice.
Sasha leaned forward, her voice firm but kind. "I know you're not trying to, but think about how scared she must be to keep it bottled up like this. If you really want to help her, you need to be patient. Let her know you're there for her, but don't push. Give her time to come to you."
