LESSONS IN SHADOWS (GL)

"Today, our Form Four Physics students and the visitors will go first!" Cynthia called out clearly, helping direct the flow near the food counter. "Form One, please wait until the line clears."

She adjusted her scarf, glancing over her shoulder just in time to notice a familiar presence stepping up behind her.

She turned.

"Brian?"

There he was, standing casually in his uniform, a neat bucket of flowers tucked under one arm. He grinned. "Hey, Cynthia. I thought I might find you here."

Cynthia blinked, caught off guard. "I didn't know you're in this club too."

Brian nodded, offering the bucket to her. "For you."

She hesitated for a second, then accepted it, a quiet blush rising to her cheeks. "Thanks . It's...nice to see you again."

A few paces behind , Angela stood still, unnoticed, her expression unreadable as she watched the exchange in silence.

Angela's fingers tightened slightly around the empty glass in her hand.

Suddenly, the dining hall began to buzz-soft murmurs floating between tables, low giggles passed from group to group. A wave of whispering swept across the room like a breeze catching fire.

She turned.

And there they were.

Jennifer and Kevin.

Side by side.

Smiling, effortless. Perfect.

Jennifer's head tilted slightly as she laughed at something Kevin said, while he leaned in, answering with that same magnetic grin . The way they moved-synced, easy, glowing-it wasn't just a walk. It was a picture. It was them.

The couple everyone shipped.

Angela didn't need to ask what the whispers were about.

Now she knew.

Angela's gaze drifted further into the hall-and there, near one of the center tables, she spotted them.

Cynthia and Brian.

Already seated. Already talking. Close. Relaxed.

Angela blinked once, slow.

Then, without a word, she turned back to her duties-her steps steady, her face guarded.

She was still the dining prefect. She had a job to do.

She walked between rows, ensuring that all Form 4 Physics students had received their meals before the younger classes. Everything needed to be in order.

Near the last table, Jennifer passed her-a tray in hand, Kevin beside her, the two of them holding lunch and laughter.

"Hi, Angela," Jennifer said gently, pausing with a small smile.

Angela glanced at her, lips pressed into something tight but polite.

"I'll take care of this," Angela said. "You're still on Physics duty today."

Jennifer gave a tiny nod and walked away.

Angela watched her for a second-then turned just in time to see something else.

Cynthia.

Carrying two plates.

One for herself.

And one for Brian.

Angela's jaw clenched, but her steps didn't falter.

She kept walking.

"Angela!"

Cynthia's voice cut through the dining hall chatter. She was smiling, motioning toward the tables where she sat with Brian.

Angela hesitated.

She knew what that meant-an invitation.

Come and sit with us.

But the way it was said...it felt casual, light.

Yet something underneath tugged her.

She finished ensuring the last student had their lunch, eyes scanning to be sure everything was in order. Then, without responding to Cynthia, she quietly took her own plate and slipped out the side corridor near the kitchen-where the breeze was quieter, and no one would notice if she didn't smile.

From behind, a voice teased the silence.

"Someone looks like they've been dumped by all their friends today," came the smooth tone.

Angela turned slightly.

Christine stood near the corner, arms folded, her smirk as unreadable as ever.

Angela said nothing.

Christine stepped closer, glancing into the dining hall. "Look how happy they are. Cynthia. Jennifer. Even you-know-who with her knight."

A pause.

Then: " Why don't you have a boyfriend, Angela?"

Angela didn't reply.

The plate in her hands felt heavier than it should've.

Angela didn't reply.

She placed her plate carefully on the ledge beside her, the soft wind curling against her braids. A pause stretched between them, just long enough for discomfort to rise-and then quietly, she said:

"I haven't found one."

Christine blinked, surprised by the honesty.

She leaned against the wall, her arms still folded, but her voice lost its edge.

"With such beauty?" She gave a quiet, almost shy smile. "If I were a boy...I'd court you."

Angela blinked-that line. That exact line.

Cynthia had said it once too quiet moments when the world hadn't been this complicated.

Angela didn't speak.

She just looked ahead, as if watching something far beyond the corridor wall.

...

{Flashback - Nearly Nine Years Ago}

It had been nearly nine years ago-back in junior school, when schoolbags looked bigger than the kids who carried them, and the world was still simple.

The sun was gentle that afternoon, but Cynthia stood with her arms crossed, frowning. A group of cheeky boys had snatched her favorite storybook-the one with shiny stars and princesses drawn on every page. They tossed it between themselves like a game, ignoring her small voice yelling, "Give it back!"

A few girls nearby just giggled or turned away. But one didn't.

A taller girl stepped forward-confident, in a navy skirt and white socks pulled to the knees, her short braids tied with red ribbons that bounced when she walked.

"Give her book back," the girl said firmly.

The boys paused. Something about her voice wasn't loud, but it held power. The tallest boy scoffed, but one by one, they stepped back, dropping the book on the dusty ground.

The older girl stepped forward, picked it up, and gently dusted the cover. She handed it back with a smile.

"Thank you," the smaller girl said softly, hugging it tight.

The taller girl looked at her, a spark of something warm passing between them.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, the older girl stretched out her hand.

"My name is Angela," she said.

The little one blinked, then smiled. "My name is Cynthia."

They shook hand.

A bond had been born-under the jacaranda tree, in dust-streaked uniforms and oversized shoes-the kind of bond only a playground could forge.

If it had been a stage play, that would be the scene where everything begins.

As the seasons passed, the two girls grew- still holding on to the bond they had formed that day under the tree. They laughed, got in trouble, passed notes in class, and stood up for each other in ways words couldn't describe.

Even in junior school, Cynthia often fell sick. She had moments of weakness-sometimes missing class, sometimes barely speaking. But Angela was always there, seated beside her during lunch, sneaking her bread, offering her a shoulder when teasing from other girls got too much.

Whenever Cynthia was quiet, Angela spoke for her. Whenever Cynthia was quiet, Angela spoke for her. Whenever Cynthia was down, Angela stood tall beside her. Everyone knew-mess with one, and you'd answer to the other.

By the time the final exams came, they were still inseparable-even when their results would pull them toward different fates.

Angela had scored well enough to be called to Makueni Girls, a prestigious national school. Cynthia, a quieter and more reserved, was accepted into a provincial school-Our Lady of Fatima.

Angela smiled politely as her family celebrated her results, but her heart fell torn.

She didn't want to leave Cynthia behind.

That evening, she sat with her father, voice trembling but eyes strong.

"Baba, I want to transfer. I want to go to Our Lady of Fatima."

He looked at her, puzzled. "But it's not a national school. Why?"

"Because it's where I'm meant to be. Even if I go somewhere 'better,' it won't mean much without her."

Her father stared at her for a long moment. Then, quietly, he nodded.

"I raised a daughter with loyalty," he said.

"You'll still reach your dreams-together." 

And so Angela let go of Makueni. She packed her dreams and walked with Cynthia into Our Lady of Fatima, side by side-not because it was the best school, but because it was the right one for their friendship.

They promised each other they would still succeed, still reach university, still make their families proud.

They would do it-together.

...

Angela blinked, the memory fading like morning mist as the chatter of the dining hall returned to her ears. Her plate now sat untouched on her lap, the smell of warm cabbage rising softly.

Beside her, Christine sat with one leg tucked under the other, chewing slowly as if she'd been waiting for Angela's to speak.

"Angela..." she started, her voice casual, " you know, back in those days"

But before she could finish, Christine interrupted herself with a grin and leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice like it was a secret joke.

"You know," she said, tapping Angela lightly with her elbow, "It's not a must for a knight to be a boy."

Angela glanced at her, confused for a heartbeat, until Christine's eyes darted toward Jennifer-then back-as she added with a playful wink:

"A knight can be a girl too."

Angela, sitting across, paused mid-sip of her juice, then blinked-as if caught between a smile and surprise. Her gaze briefly locked with Christine's, uncertain, almost puzzled.

And yet...deep inside, she somehow knew exactly what Christine meant