The hum of morning chatter filled class as students trickled in, the windows casting golden slants of light across desks pushed into clusters. Yue Xi sat quietly in her usual seat by the window, her notebook open but untouched. Outside, birds flitted past the glass, free and unbothered. Inside, the tension that only a group project could inspire began to brew.
"Alright, everyone!" Mr. Han clapped his hands as he entered. "Today's your final prep day for the presentation. You'll present tomorrow, so I hope you're ready."
Groans rose like a wave across the classroom.
Yue Xi glanced toward the seating chart posted on the board. Her name sat alongside three others for Group 5: Wang Meilin, Zhou Kai, and Yang Yichen.
Her stomach tightened.
Wang Meilin was already tossing her bag onto a chair near the back. With sleek hair and a sharp tongue, Meilin was the kind of girl who smiled with her mouth and judged with her eyes. Zhou Kai was quieter, but his snide remarks often backed Meilin like a sidekick to a villain. Yichen, thankfully, was a wildcard. Easygoing, but unpredictable.
Yue Xi rose slowly and made her way to their table.
"You're late," Meilin said, eyes flicking over Yue Xi without warmth.
"I was here before you," Yue Xi replied softly.
Meilin arched a brow. "Didn't notice."
Zhou Kai snorted.
Yichen gave Yue Xi a small smile as she sat. "Hey," he said, nudging a notebook toward her. "I sketched out some ideas. You're good at organizing, right?"
Yue Xi blinked at him, surprised by the lack of sarcasm. "I can help with the structure."
Meilin rolled her eyes. "As long as she doesn't stay silent the whole time like a ghost. We're being graded on presentation and speaking."
Yue Xi stiffened. "I can do it."
Meilin leaned in, voice lowered just enough to sound polite. "Just don't freeze up or go all weird."
A flash of memory slammed into Yue Xi a trembling voice, fingers clutching paper too tightly, a classroom full of stares. That old moment of public humiliation from her previous school still echoed in the corners of her mind.
She clenched her jaw. "I'll be fine."
Yichen looked between them and frowned. "Hey. Chill."
Meilin gave a sugary smile. "I'm just trying to help her not embarrass us."
Yue Xi looked down at her hands, her breathing shallow. She could feel it creeping in that edge of panic, like vines curling around her lungs.
But she didn't run.
She took a slow breath and flipped open her notebook.
"Let's get to work," she said, voice steadier than she felt.
The next hour passed in a blur of mild arguments and half-effort suggestions. Yichen tried to mediate, throwing in jokes to lighten the mood, but it was clear Meilin didn't want Yue Xi to lead just to follow instructions.
Yue Xi listened more than she spoke. Every time she tried to contribute, Meilin either interrupted or brushed her off with a comment masked as concern. "Maybe just let us handle the delivery part," or "We don't want you stressing out again, do we?"
Still, Yue Xi pressed on. By the end, she had outlined their presentation, rewritten the flow of their discussion, and gathered materials for visuals. But she felt invisible. Like a ghost doing all the labor behind a curtain.
When the bell rang, Meilin stood and stretched. "Just don't mess up the intro tomorrow," she said to Yue Xi. "You'll be the first speaker."
Yue Xi stared at her. "What?"
"You said you'd be fine. Own it."
She walked off without waiting for a response.
Zhou Kai shrugged and followed.
Yichen lingered. "You okay?"
Yue Xi nodded, though her throat felt tight. "Thanks for not joining in."
He smiled. "You did most of the work. I noticed."
It shouldn't have meant so much, but it did.
The rest of the school day felt like a haze. Yue Xi's other classes passed without much incident, but her mind kept circling back to the project. The pressure to speak to start the entire thing settled heavily on her chest like a weight she couldn't lift.
At lunch, she sat under a tree in the courtyard, her back pressed to the bark as she picked at her food. Nearby, students laughed and chatted in groups, a flurry of movement and noise she couldn't quite break into.
A shadow passed by. She looked up and saw Li Rui, the boy who had introduced her to the Literature Club, walking with a group of classmates. He caught her gaze for half a second just enough to smile before continuing on. Brief, but genuine.
Something about that smile stayed with her.
Later that day, Yue Xi found herself walking through the now-quiet hallway toward the literature room. Her hands trembled just slightly, not from fear from frustration.
How easily people branded her broken.
When she pushed the door to library, the familiar scent of books and wood polish greeted her like a balm. Chen Yu was already there, as always, by the window with a book in hand.
She didn't speak as she entered. She simply sat.
Minutes passed in silence, then his voice, low and certain, broke it.
"Bad day?"
Yue Xi didn't answer at first. Then, softly, "Group project."
"Let me guess," he said, not looking up. "You did all the work. Someone else gets the credit. Someone else gets the mic."
Yue Xi blinked. "How?"
He closed his book and finally looked at her. "You wear frustration like a second skin. Quiet, but obvious if you know how to read it."
Something about that made her eyes sting.
"I used to mess up presentations," she said, voice barely audible. "I'd shake. Stutter. They all laughed."
"Not everyone learns to speak loud. Some just learn to speak real."
Her gaze lifted to meet his.
"Do you want help?" he asked. "Practicing? Reading aloud?"
"No." She paused. "But… maybe tomorrow."
He gave a nod. "Anytime."
That night, Yue Xi stood at her desk, her reflection caught in the darkened window. Her notebook lay open in front of her, and she whispered the words of her speech softly to herself.
It was just a start. But maybe that was enough.
That night, Yue Xi stood at her desk, her reflection caught in the darkened window. Her notebook lay open in front of her, and she whispered the words of her speech softly to herself.
It was just a start. But maybe that was enough.
As she turned the page and jotted down her cue notes in the margins, a breeze slipped through her slightly open window, rustling the edges of her paper. Outside, the city lights blinked in steady rhythm, as if reminding her that tomorrow would come no matter how she felt.
And tomorrow, for once, she wouldn't let herself disappear.
Even if her voice trembled.
Even if her hands shook.
She would stand, speak, and claim her place not for them, but for herself.