I got ready for class. I didn't even know what this class was about.
Black jeans, white shirt, black-and-white shoes—simple. As I stepped out of my room, I spotted Xavier lounging on the couch instead of heading to class.
"Skipping first class?" I asked.
"I was just… waiting for you." He stood up, stretching. "Let's go."
After two minutes of silence in the elevator—just us and the awkwardness—I finally asked, "What's this class about?"
"No idea." He cut the conversation like slicing paper. Sulking, too. What did I even do?
When we entered the classroom, it turned out to be a chemistry lab.
"You're late," Miss Luna said.
"We're sorry, Miss," I replied quickly.
"It's okay. Your lab coats are on the desk. Wear them and take the two empty seats at the back." She smiled.
As we slipped on our coats, the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. I slouched at my station, Xavier beside me, while Miss Luna sighed like she had already given up on this class.
"Alright, today's experiment is about perception. You'll see how the same solution can change colors depending on what you add—just like people. Good and bad exist together. Take notes."
Kai, a guy with a permanent smirk, yawned. "Cool. Philosophy and chemistry. My two favorite things."
Rhea, twirling a glass stirrer between her fingers, scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get it over with."
Miss Luna ignored them and placed a beaker filled with a purple liquid in front of them. "This is a neutral solution with a pH indicator. Right now, it's balanced—just like a person, carrying both good and bad qualities."
"Or like me. Perfectly balanced and unbothered," Kai smirked.
Rhea rolled her eyes and grabbed a dropper of vinegar. "So what, we just dump this in?"
"Slowly," Miss Luna warned, but Rhea squeezed the dropper aggressively. The purple liquid turned red instantly.
"Ooooh, evil potion," Kai murmured.
Miss Luna gave them a pointed look. "That represents negativity. Anger, flaws, resentment. Add too much, and that's all you'll see in someone."
Kai smirked. "So, if I wanted to make Rhea look like the devil, I'd just keep adding this?" He reached for more vinegar.
Rhea smacked his hand away. "Try it, and I swear I'll dump this whole beaker on your head."
"Alright, now balance it," Miss Luna cut in before chaos erupted. She handed them a beaker of baking soda solution.
Rhea sighed and poured some in. The red liquid shifted to blue-green.
"Okay, that's kinda cool," Kai admitted.
"That represents the good in people—kindness, strength, patience," Miss Luna explained. "You added one thing, and the color changed. The same way, what you choose to focus on in a person affects how you see them."
Rhea leaned her chin on her palm. "So people are basically mood rings."
Miss Luna smirked. "More like chemical reactions—you can't erase the bad or the good, but you can decide which one stands out."
Kai eyed the beaker, then Rhea. "So basically, I can pretend you're tolerable by focusing on your rare moments of kindness?"
Rhea shoved him. "And I can ignore your stupid face and pretend you have a brain."
Miss Luna sighed. "You two are this experiment."
The whole class laughed. The lesson had been unexpectedly fun, and the energy in the room had completely shifted.
Then, on impulse, I asked, "What if we can't see their good side, even if we want to? Because they're… too close to us?" I wasn't expecting Miss Luna to hear.
But she turned to me, stepping closer. "Think of a strong acid—like hydrochloric acid. It's overwhelming, just like a person's bad side when they're too close to us. Normally, adding a base would neutralize it, balancing the good and bad. But if the acid is too strong, no matter how much base you add, it stays acidic. That's like when someone's flaws overshadow everything, making it impossible to see their good side.
In chemistry and in life, sometimes you can't fix the balance. The only way is to dilute it—create distance. Buffer it—set boundaries. Or accept that some things won't change."
That hit harder than expected. I zoned out for a few seconds, lost in my thoughts, before I realized everyone was packing up, leaving class in better moods than when they arrived.
"You free right now?" Xavier asked.
I blinked. "Me?" Dumb question. We were the only two left in the room.
"Yeah. Wanna grab something to eat? I'm starving."
I studied his face—he'd been sulking before, barely talking. Now, suddenly, he was fine?
"Sure, but you go ahead. I have a quick errand to run. Order whatever for me. Thanks."
Before he could question me, I rushed to the elevator. It was crowded, but I had no choice. Sofi and Effie spotted me running.
"Where's she going in such a rush?" Effie asked.
"No idea. She's hard to understand," Xavier muttered as he joined them.
"Where are you going?" Effie asked him.
"Canteen."
"Sofi and I are going too. Let's go together," Effie said, and Sofi nodded.
Meanwhile, I dashed to a nearby shop and bought a small, cute diary. The cover had a gorgeous princess on it—just like Effie.
On the first page, I scribbled a note:
Write whatever is bothering you. Putting it on paper will make you feel better. Trust me.
-Your buddy.
Rushing back, I slipped into the room on the 54th floor, placed the diary on Effie's bed, then sprinted back to the canteen.
By the time I reached the table, I was breathless.
"What happened to you? You look like you just escaped from a dog chasing you," Sofi teased, pouring me a glass of water.
Xavier slid my food toward me.
"I was just walking. What are you talking about?" I said, trying not to sound suspicious.
"Just eat. You look pale," Effie said.
"Sure."
_____________________
We all went to bed early that night—unusual, but necessary. We had a morning class the next day, and this time, it was being held in the garden.
I'd seen the garden before. It was beautiful in a quiet, intentional way—every plant placed with care, every pathway thoughtfully curved. It didn't just look nice; it felt right. The kind of space that made you want to breathe a little deeper, speak a little softer.
There was something about it—maybe the soft rustle of leaves, or the sunlight filtering through the branches—that gave off this subtle energy. A sense of calm, but also something bright and hopeful. Like the garden itself was quietly rooting for you.
Oh, and yes, Effie found the diary, and she loves it. She was also writing something. I was happy.