Trigger warning: Although this chapter does not contain the following, I advice you not to read the rest of this story because it would contain discussion of mental health, suicide, self harm, etc. If these topics are triggering to you in any way, please refrain from reading, I understand, and please take care :)

Daisy

Monday, October 11

Today is going to be the day. The day I become a better person. The day I prove myself. The day that I step out of my comfort zone, and-

"Hey! I'm Sally. What's your name?" A girl sits down across me, her face inches away from mine. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is curved into a smile. Her face is the epiphany of friendliness and welcoming. Say something. Say something! She tilts her head, waiting expectantly. Oh, shucks she's waiting. She won't be waiting for much longer. Come on, why am I not saying anything? This is my chance! I fiddle with my fingers and bite the bottom of my lip. My heart is pounding like a drum in my head. I try to open my mouth, but it's clamped shut as if closed by a zipper. Finally, I open my mouth ever so slightly to speak-

"Ey Sally, who ya talkin' to? Come on already!" Sally looks over my shoulder to see someone waving at her. Standing up, she gives me an apologetic smile as she scurries over to join her friend. That was it. My chance was gone.

My shoulders slump. I sigh. Biting my fingernails, I grab my water bottle and trudge my way back to class. On my own. Again. Why couldn't I answer such a simple question? It was literally just my name. Just one word. Why couldn't I answer it? It was the one chance I could've seized. I could've said anything and I would've gotten the friend I always wanted. I wouldn't be walking into class alone. I want to go back in time and yell at myself, and pry my mouth open to answer her. Frowning, I ruffle my hair as I step into the classroom. Frustration burns like a fire within my soul. I told myself I'd be better today!

I plonk myself down at my desk and rest my head on the table. Thoughts swarm around in my head like bees as I gaze out of the window. Time is fizzling out. It's almost the end of the last term in high school. Our final exams are already next week. And I still haven't made any friends. A 16 year old, without having made any friends in her life. Maybe...I'm meant to be alone.

. . .

"Class dismissed!" Chairs scratch across the floor. Noise and buzz immediately fill the air. I swing my bag over my shoulder and scamper out of class. Usually people stay behind to wait for their friends, to chat with them and make plans. Except I don't have any friends. I watch those walking in groups, pairs even, with envy. Why is making friends so hard? Why does it seem to be so easy for everyone else?

"Wait up!" I hear a voice yell. I don't turn around, because it must be for someone else. Jealousy pangs in my stomach. I wish I had someone to call out to me, to want me to wait for them. But then I feel a tap on my shoulder, so I turn to see a schoolmate, panting, with his hands on his knees and sweat dripping onto the floor. His curly, black fringe nearly falling into his deep, blue eyes. His face breaks into a wide smile, and his arm reaches out, palm open.

"I'm James," He says, eyes locked with mine. "You sure walk fast you know, it wasn't easy catching up to you," His open palm hangs in the air expectantly. My fingers automatically start twirling my hair. I shuffle my feet and my eyes shift down to my shoes. His friend called out to him. He already has to go.

I feel cold sweat trickle down my forehead. It's taking too long again. It's going to be like this morning again. I won't be able to take this chance, as much as I want to. He already has to go. My chance is already gone, again. Because I'm meant to be alone. I'll never make friends. Never.

All of a sudden, I feel a hand grasp my arm and a palm interlocking with mine. My head tilts upwards until I come face to face with him. He grins and gives me a handshake. His friend calls out to him again, and he glances over his shoulder.

"I've got to go, see ya around!" He exclaims, before turning around and sprinting. He looks back and waves at me at the gate one last time, before hopping onto his bicycle and cycling after his friend. He even looked back.

What is this feeling? I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. My hand rests on my chest. I feel like a firefly, glowing brightly in the night sky. It doesn't matter that he didn't go back with me. It doesn't matter that I didn't even say anything, I didn't even tell him my name. All that I can think about is that I've made a friend! There is a new spring in each step I take. I made a friend!

For the first time in 16 years, I smile.

. . .

Tuesday, October 12

"Hey!" James runs up to me at the school gate. I feel like I'm soaring up high. I beam at him.

"Damn, you look even more pretty when you smile. You should do that more often," He whistles, his deep blue eyes piercing through mine. How can he say it so naturally, without any hesitation? But I know why. It's because he means it, because he is being genuine. Even so, it was the first time I had received a compliment. I blush, diverting my gaze to my shoes.

"I'm Daisy, by the way," I whisper so softly that it is barely audible, but he hears it anyway. I would've complimented his curly hair and his warm personality, but I am not there yet. I will do it when I'm brave enough.

"Daisy huh, I think it suits you!" He declares, and I swear he positively beams at me. It is the first time I think that my name isn't so bad after all. I find it intriguing how he approached me like that. I wonder why...

. . .

James

Monday, October 11

Daisy, her short, wavy black hair parted at the side, covers one side of her face whenever she looks down. She looks down a lot and fidgets with her fingers a lot. When she speaks, the rare times she does, she's so soft that if someone walked by, their footsteps would be enough to drown her voice out. She lights up and becomes as bright as the sun whenever I greet her. The warm glow spreads from her to me. I think she's simply beautiful. I wonder why no one else has spoken to her. I wonder how no one else has managed to spot her, either. I wonder why I hadn't approached her sooner. Maybe I hadn't been looking close enough, either.

I noticed that she was always alone. Maybe I spent too long assuming someone else would notice, or assuming that she wanted to be alone. I've seen how she always started trembling and fumbling with her hands every time someone spoke to her. As fragile as a flower, trembling in the gentle wind. But I also noticed the smallest things that she does for others. She notices whenever someone seems down. The very next morning, the person would walk to their desk to find a small note of encouragement. If she saw someone struggling with carrying things, she would stand beside them and wait for them to ask. She always cleaned the whiteboard, always took out the trash. She has a heart of gold. Anyone could see that, they just needed to look close enough.

That day I watched her drag her feet up the staircase. She didn't clean the whiteboard. She didn't take out the trash. Instead of clinging to every word the teacher said, she put her head on the table and stared out of the window. Her eyes were glassy and empty. All after a girl tried to talk to her, but left before she could answer. I realised I had been giving myself too many excuses for not approaching her. I realised that I myself hadn't been looking close enough, either.

So that day when she rushed out of the classroom briskly, I hurriedly dumped everything into my bag and dashed after her. I called out to her, but she didn't turn. She thought that it wasn't for her. At that moment I wish I remembered her name. I hated myself for not taking note of her name at the start of the year. After I tapped her shoulder and she turned around, I noticed her shuffling her feet, and her hand moved up to the area between her collarbones. She was shaking, ever so slightly.

"I'm James," I had said. She didn't answer, but she seemed to open and close her mouth multiple times. "You sure walk fast you know, it wasn't easy catching up to you," there was still no answer from her, but I didn't mind waiting until the end of time.

My darn friend was calling me right at the moment she seemed to have built her courage. Right at the moment she was going to say something. Why couldn't he have waited just a bit longer? She looked forlorn, like her fate was locked in place. Like she thought I was going to leave her behind.

So I grabbed her hand, shook it and left. I hadn't even learnt her name. I hadn't even said that we were friends. So at the gate, I turned and waved, to make sure that she knew we were. She did not move an inch. She didn't even raise her hand. But I saw the way her eyes sparkled, like stars twinkling in the dark night. I smiled.

She had been lonely.