Chapter 6: A Fragile Smile

The following days felt different. It wasn’t like Elodie turned into a model student overnight, but something had shifted between us. She showed up for every session, and for the first time, she actually opened her notebook and started to write. She still grumbled and sighed now and then, but she tried—really tried.

     And that was enough for me.

     One afternoon, as I helped her through a particularly tricky math problem, she sighed, tapping her pencil against her chin.

     “I hate algebra,” she muttered.

     I smirked, trying not to laugh. “You’ve mentioned that. Three times today.”

     “Just making sure you know,” she replied, but her voice lacked the usual bite. There was almost a playful tone now, something I hadn’t heard from her before.

     By the end of the session, she’d managed to solve four problems on her own.

     “I can’t believe I actually got those right,” she said, staring down at the notebook like it might vanish.

     “You see?” I said with a smile. “You can do it when you try.”

     “Yeah, well, don’t get too excited,” she grumbled, but there was a flicker of pride in her eyes.

     “Well, it’s a great deal for me,” I smiled, and this time, it was not forced.

     As we left the library that day, she suddenly blurted out something I never expected from her in a thousand years. “Thank you, Serena, for your time!”

     “What? Say that again!” The feeling was absolutely wonderful. It’s like I’ve opened a window and was open to the breeze and meadow that lay beyond. Hope, joy, and a pinch of that sweet taste in friendship.

     “No way,” but finally her scowl shattered on her face, and for the first time I saw her smile. A true genuine smile like the blossoms of spring, a version of herself like a goddess, making her surroundings shine with that single expression. Her blue eyes looked clear and happy, like a stream just unfrozen, singing the tune of spring. Beneath the surface, under all that armor she covered herself with, she was beautiful. Pure. Better then everyone else. No one deserves to isolate her, to hate her, to mutter insulting things behind her back. No one.

     She turned around and ran back to me. We collided as she wrapped me in a warm embrace. That moment, the world seemed to go silent. Our surroundings fuzzed out, everything became a warm sunset gold. Only Elodie was real. Her arms, her chestnut hair, her tight muscles, her cologne.

     And it felt wonderful. Like paradise. A form of escape, away from my studies, from my classmates’ belief in me, from piano and physics and ballet and everything else. It felt so good to…relax. Better then all those awards, all those praising.

***

     I guess my life is supposed to force me to be perfect. It’s molding me like a lump of clay, making sure I’m always, always the good girl, taking everything else from my grasp. Fun, playing, and even true friendship are never words in my dictionary. I grew up alone. And now that Elodie has made a difference, it seemed destined that she’ll be pulled away from me too.

     The whispers started small—just a few people giving me odd looks as I passed by in the halls. But soon, it spread.

     “Why are you even bothering to take time with her, Serena?” Teresa asked me during breaktime. Usually, she looks at me with respect, but today her eyes are filled with awe and disgust.

     I pretended not to hear her, burying my head into my biology textbook.

     “She’s hopeless, anyway, so why? You should ask Mrs. Hall to switch you with someone else, like Rachel. She’s not very good either, but not hopeless.” She kept pressing me.

     “Yeah, tutor me, Serena!” Rachel called. “I’m much better than that piece of trash anyway.”

   A few others had gathered around us now, sensing the tension in the air. Normally, I would have said “Of course she’s a complete failure” or something like that. In their minds, I’m the best student and Elodie the worst, so we should technically be sworn enemies. If I ever gave any impression that I was defending Elodie, my whole reputation would collapse.

     But now that I saw who Elodie truly was, I can’t bring myself to say anything bad about her. Any prejudice posed against her seemed despicable and unreasonable. So I came up with the most neutral response I could think of. “Can you please leave me alone for a moment? I need to review my biology.”

     They exchanged a glance, clearly taken aback by my reaction, but still apologized and left. I let out a breath, glad to have survived this minor trial.

     However, my triumph was short-lived. Those girls weren’t fools. Just the opposite, their instincts were as sharp as a dog’s.

     The next few days, I felt the weight of their stares wherever I went. It wasn’t just Teresa and Rachel anymore. Others had noticed the shift in my behavior, the way I wasn’t laughing along when they mocked Elodie, the way I refused to call her a lost cause. They sensed something was off.

     At first, it was just whispers—conversations that died when I approached, muffled giggles from across the room. Then, the avoidance began.

     When I reached my lunch table, the one Ivy reserved for me every day, there was no room. Usually, no matter how late I appeared, there would always be a seat. Sometimes, it might even mean that someone will have to leave the table to make room for me, but everyone was willing to give up their seats for the perfect girl. This time though, the table was filled completely. Ivy, who would normally jump up at my arrival and pose orders to get me a comfortable seat, was laughing about something with Felicia, one of my top competitors for number one in class. Weird. Every time Felicia overtook me on a test, Ivy looked as if she wanted to tear Felicia apart. She never allowed Felicia to eat here. More importantly, she seemed to be…ignoring me.

     Ivy didn’t even look up at me. Instead, she leaned closer to Felicia, laughing at something I wasn’t in on.

     “Sorry, Serena,” Felicia said, her voice falsely sweet. “Looks like there’s no space.”

     “Yeah,” Teresa added. “We’re sorry, but it won’t be nice to move people away.”

     “But you did that before…” I muttered, knowing that everything I said will be nothing more than a hum of a fly once they made up their minds.

     “Serena, please.” Ivy finally spoke, although she still didn’t bother to turn her head.

      It was only two short phrases, but it contained everything she wasn’t able to say. Why are you bothering with Elodie? Can’t you understand she’s hopeless? What about your reputation? Why are you so foolish? They came in soundless waves, assaulting my brain, echoing around as if in an endlessly deep canyon, questioning why, why, why, why do I have to do this.

     I lowered my head and walked away. What was there to be said, anyway？That beneath Elodie’s smirks and sharp words was a girl who had been broken long before I ever met her? That she wasn’t the spoiled brat everyone thought, but someone who had been fighting a battle none of us had ever seen?

     I scanned the room for another place to sit. There was nowhere else. At least, nowhere that wouldn’t feel like I was intruding.

     And then, I saw them.

     A group of boys near the back corner—Max, Leander, and a few others I didn’t really know all that well—sat together, laughing at something on their phones. I considered walking away, but they were the only option.

     As I sat down, their laughter died for a moment. Max looked up first, his eyes narrowing when he saw me. “Well, well, if it isn’t Serena the Scholar,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

     Leander snickered, nudging his friend. “Yeah, right. Guess you’ve hit rock bottom now, huh? Elodie’s personal tutor?”

     I bit my lip and avoided eye contact, focusing on my lunch tray. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me react, but the words stung like needles, jabbing into my pride, my confidence.

     “Guess she’s too good for us now, huh?” another boy chimed in, his tone mocking. “I didn’t know you’d go that low, Serena. Elodie’s pet now?”

     The insults kept coming. Every word was a jab, a reminder of what I had been and how far I’d fallen. I could feel the weight of their judgment pressing down on me, like they were pushing me further into a corner I couldn’t escape. Every laugh, every sneer, felt like a stone being thrown at me.

     I forced myself to keep my head down, to act like it didn’t bother me, but inside, I was crumbling. What had happened to me? How did I go from the girl who was always admired for her grades, her status, to someone who was laughed at for simply trying to help someone else?

     One of the boys, whose name I didn’t even know, leaned closer, his voice lowering. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you? I always thought you were too good for people like us. But now you’re sitting here with the rest of us lowlifes. What’s the matter, Serena? The perfect little study robot finally cracked?”

     I gripped my fork so tightly my fingers were starting to ache. I wanted to disappear, to escape from the eyes that saw me as a joke, as something they could express their emotions on, picturing myself as a harnessed horse beaten not because of misbehavior, but because the driver was mad and thought it looked ugly. And I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t fight back. I can only let the blows rain down, each one stinging like the whip the driver wielded, dyed red by the blood of the phantom horse.

     When I finally finished my lunch, I didn’t even bother to wait for the bell to ring. I grabbed my tray, stood up without a word, and left the table, ignoring their calls and taunts behind me. I walked back to class, the familiar sound of their laughter echoing in my ears.

     That day, when I walked into the library, Elodie seemed to realize my exhaustion and how much the situation weighed on me. Her expression was filled with care and she pulls a comfy sofa over for me. The soft texture brought back my energy, along with my realization that how close we’ve become. We’ve seen each other beneath the layers of walls we weave for others.

     I gave her a series of hard questions on biology and stared out at the setting sun. The library was quiet, the only sound Elodie’s pen writing on the paper, like leaves brushing against each other. The gold of the sun sank into my eyes, deeper, deeper, the world disappearing into a smear of light…

     “Serena?” Elodie’s voice broke through the haze, and I struggled to sit up like a proper tutor. “Are you okay?”

     I managed a smile. “I’m good.”

     Her face lightened up as she believed that I wasn’t affected and went to her work again.

     But just because I haven’t said it doesn’t mean that it won’t happen.