Chapter 5: The Silent Struggle
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Chapter 5: The Silent Struggle
The days rolled by like a blur for Leah. This morning wasn’t any different—or at least it didn’t feel like it at first. She wasn’t feeling great, but she wasn’t one to dwell on it. Shrugging off the headache and queasy stomach, she dressed for school, brushing aside the nagging feeling that maybe she should stay home.
Her reflection in the mirror was tired, her eyes duller than usual, but she muttered to herself, “You’ve been through worse. It’s just a bug.” Her lips curved into a determined smile, one she didn’t quite believe.
At school, Sylvia quickly noticed something was off.
“Leah, you okay?” Sylvia asked, leaning closer with a frown, her eyes scanning her friend’s pale face.
Leah forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing. “I’m fine. Probably just tired.”
Sylvia squinted at her. “You sure? You look like you saw a ghost or… had one too many all-nighters.”
“I’m sure.” Leah chuckled weakly, brushing off her friend’s concern.
Sylvia didn’t look convinced, but she let it slide. The morning classes dragged on, and Leah felt her mind slipping further away. She struggled to concentrate as her vision blurred, the classroom slowly spinning around her. Her heartbeat thumped louder than the teacher’s voice, and sweat began to bead on her forehead. The walls felt like they were closing in, but she clenched her fists, determined to push through.
A wave of nausea hit like a freight train. Leah barely managed to whisper, “Excuse me,” before rushing out of the classroom. Her legs felt wobbly, like jelly, and each step felt like she was walking underwater.
The school hallways were eerily empty, amplifying the disorienting feeling that swept over her. She staggered toward the restroom, her breath shallow, feeling the weight of her body pressing against her. The moment she reached the sink, the nausea overwhelmed her. She bent over, vomiting violently. Her body shook as her stomach heaved, and when the episode ended, she felt like a ghost of herself.
Staring at her reflection afterward, Leah barely recognized the pale, feverish face staring back at her. Her trembling hands pressed against the cool porcelain sink. “Get a grip, Leah,” she whispered. “Just… get to the infirmary.”
Every step toward the infirmary was a struggle. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, her legs growing weaker with each step. Her breath hitched as the world around her tilted and swayed. She leaned against the wall, fighting to keep her eyes open.
“Almost there,” she murmured, but her body betrayed her. Her legs buckled, and she felt herself falling.
Strong hands caught her just before she hit the ground.
“Whoa, easy there. You’re really testing gravity today,” a steady, slightly amused voice said.
Leah tried to focus on the figure in front of her, but her vision swam. All she could make out was the curve of a smirk and the warmth of his hands, steadying her. His voice… It tugged at something in her memory.
“Not that I mind playing hero,” he teased, his voice softening. “But maybe warn me next time you decide to faint.”
Leah opened her mouth to retort, but the world tilted again, and she gave in to the darkness.
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When Leah opened her eyes again, the harsh fluorescent lights of the school infirmary greeted her. Her head pounded like a relentless drum, and her body felt as if it had been drained of every ounce of energy. Groaning softly, she tried to sit up, but a voice quickly stopped her.
“Not so fast, Sleeping Beauty. I don’t think the nurse prescribed dramatic flair.”
Leah turned her head toward the voice, her heart sinking as she saw the boy from earlier leaning casually against the wall. His arms were crossed, and his smirk was infuriatingly smug.
“You…” she croaked, her voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”
“Wow, no ‘thank you’? No ‘my hero’? I’m hurt,” he replied, placing a hand over his chest in mock indignation. “You’re really living up to the ‘damsel in distress’ stereotype, by the way.”
Leah scowled. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“And yet here I am,” he shot back, grinning. “If you were aiming for a dramatic rescue, though, 10/10. You’ve got the fainting part down perfectly.”
“I wasn’t aiming for anything,” Leah snapped, her cheeks flushing. “And I didn’t need you to catch me.”
“Right, because falling on your face would’ve been a better plan,” he said, his smirk widening. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Leah glared at him, too exhausted to keep up with his sarcasm but too annoyed to let him win. “Why are you even still here?”
“Someone had to make sure you didn’t pass out again,” he said, shrugging. “But if you’re going to be this grateful, maybe I should’ve let you fall. Would’ve been more entertaining.”
Before Leah could come up with a biting response, the infirmary door burst open, and Sylvia rushed in.
“Leah!” Sylvia cried, her voice cracking as she threw her arms around her friend. The sheer relief in her touch made Leah’s heart ache.
“Easy, Sylv,” Leah muttered, though her voice was soft. “You’ll squish me.”
“I was so worried!” Sylvia sniffled, pulling back to wipe her tears. “Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”
“She’s too stubborn for her own good,” the boy chimed in, still leaning against the wall. “But hey, fainting is one way to get attention.”
Sylvia turned toward him, blinking. “Who are you?”
“Good question,” Leah said, shooting him a suspicious look. “Who are you?”
The boy grinned. “Now you’re interested? I’m flattered.”
Leah’s glare deepened. “Answer the question.”
“Relax. It’s not a secret,” he said, stepping closer. “Let’s just say I’m someone who keeps popping up when you least expect it.”
“Annoyingly so,” Leah muttered, crossing her arms weakly.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re welcome again, by the way.”
Sylvia glanced between them, her expression torn between curiosity and amusement. “Okay, am I missing something here?”
“No,” Leah said quickly.
“Maybe,” the boy said at the same time, smirking at Leah. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two to your little reunion. Try not to faint again, okay? My hero quota is maxed out for the day.”
As he walked to the door, Leah called after him, “Don’t expect me to thank you!”
He turned back, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
With that, he was gone, leaving Leah with a mix of frustration and something she couldn’t quite name. Whoever he was, he had saved her when she needed it most—and he seemed determined to get under her skin while doing it.
Sylvia raised an eyebrow. “So… care to explain?”
Leah sighed, leaning back against the pillow. “No idea. Just… weird day.”
Sylvia nodded, her expression thoughtful. “He’s kind of cute, though. In an annoying way.”
“Don’t start,” Leah muttered, groaning.
Deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder about him. His teasing felt almost too natural, too familiar, as if they had met before. And that smirk—she hated how it lingered in her mind.
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