THE CLASSROOM was immersed in a pale light, filtered through the white curtains that had slightly yellowed with time. It was recess time, but Stella remained seated at her desk. The chatter of the children outside the door was distant, muffled, as if it came from another world. A world from which she was excluded.

Her coloring book lay open in front of her, its thick pages worn at the edges. It depicted a scene of animals in a meadow: a little rabbit hopping among the flowers, a deer watching silently. Stella held a green pencil between her fingers, her strokes careful and meticulous, almost hypnotic. Drawing was the only place where she felt free, where she didn't have to worry about stares or laughter.

Beside the book, a cloth napkin held a slice of cake that her mother had prepared for her that morning. It was a simple slice, with a light, soft glaze, scented with vanilla. Her mother had decorated it with love, using a fork to create small patterns on the surface to make it look special.

Stella adjusted her glasses on her nose, a gesture so familiar it seemed involuntary. Her glasses were always a little too big for her face, but she never complained. When she was younger, her mother had told her that glasses made people look smart, and Stella wanted to believe it was true. She wanted to be the smartest of all.

A shadow interrupted the beam of light on her desk. She slowly looked up, and her heart sank.

It was them.

Three girls, all with the same smirking expression, had approached her desk. Stella felt her breath quicken, her fingers involuntarily gripping the blue uniform she was wearing. She knew them well: they were always together, like a small army, and every time they approached her, something bad happened.

«Look at this.» said one of them, a blonde girl with two pigtails. Her voice dripped with mockery, as if every word had been chosen to hurt. «Zaya is still coloring like a two-year-old.»

The other two giggled, while one of them pointed at the slice of cake. «And look at this! A cake. No surprise there, huh? Maybe that's why you look like a soccer ball.»

Stella lowered her gaze, her chubby cheeks flushing red. «I'm not a ball...» she murmured, but her voice was so soft even she wasn't sure she believed it.

«Oh, really? Then why can't you ever run in PE class? Or maybe you just like rolling around?» another one sneered, sending the others into fits of laughter.

One of the girls stepped closer to the cake and, with a quick motion, snatched it from the napkin. «You should really stop with these cakes, Zaya. No boy will ever want you like this.»

A lump formed in Stella's throat. Her lip trembled as she lowered her gaze to her hands, clutching her uniform even tighter. She didn't want to cry. She didn't want to give them that satisfaction. But their words were like knives, and every laugh was another cut to her heart.

The girls began eating the cake right in front of her, laughing and exchanging knowing glances. Stella couldn't look at them. She could only feel the tears threatening to fall, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted the scene.

«Hey! Leave her alone!»

The three girls turned in surprise, and Stella looked up. A girl with blue hair, tied in a small braid, stood there with her hands on her hips, her eyes burning with anger. Stella recognized her: it was Powder, one of the most energetic kids in the class, always getting into trouble. But that day, Stella saw something different in her.

Powder didn't wait for a response. With a determined gesture, she shoved one of the girls—the one holding the cake—making her fall to the ground. The slice slipped from her hands, landing clumsily on the floor.

«Give her back her snack!» Powder said firmly. She wasn't tall, nor particularly intimidating, but in that moment, she looked like a warrior.

The three girls stared at her with wide eyes, as if they couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, one of them started crying, and soon the other two followed.

«I'm telling the teacher!» one of them screamed between exaggerated sobs before running out of the classroom with the others.

Powder turned to Stella, her expression wavering between pride and embarrassment. «Are you okay?"» she asked, stepping closer to the desk.

Stella nodded slowly, unable to find words. She wasn't used to someone getting into trouble for her.

But the moment didn't last long. The door suddenly swung open, and the teacher walked in with a stern expression. «Powder! What have you done?» she said, striding toward them.

Powder turned to her, trying to explain. «It was them! They're always bother her! I just—»

«I don't want to hear anything, this is not an excuse to push your classmates!» the teacher interrupted, taking her by the hand. «We're going straight to the principal's office. And your parents will hear about this behavior.»

Powder turned to Stella, pleading with her eyes. «Tell her, Zaya. Tell her they were bullying you!»

Stella opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She felt paralyzed, as if the words were stuck in her throat. In her mind the picture of the girls and their scary smiles.

The teacher led Powder out of the room, leaving Stella sitting at her desk. Guilt wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. She had seen Powder defend her, had seen her anger, her courage. And yet, she had said nothing to help her.

She remained there, motionless, staring at the floor where the ruined, forgotten slice of cake lay. Her hands trembled, and her heart seemed to beat slower, as if only now realizing how cowardly she had been.

«Thank you...» she whispered under her breath, but Powder was no longer there to hear it.

The days following the incident were difficult for Stella. Every time she walked into the classroom, her eyes immediately searched for Powder's desk, looking for her face among the crowd of children. Powder was always there, but never alone. She laughed, talked, and gestured animatedly with her group of friends, her blue hair moving like a waterfall with each lively motion.

Stella remained still, watching from a distance. She never found the courage to approach. Every time she took a step toward her, her legs froze, and the words died in her throat. Shame was like an invisible chain, heavy and relentless.

And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about it. Powder had done something no one had ever done for her. She had stood up for her, had spoken in her place. And Stella hadn't been brave enough to defend her, not even when she got into trouble because of her.

That evening, after dinner, Stella took refuge in her bedroom. The room was her sanctuary, a small, colorful world where she could be herself. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and the shelves overflowed with illustrated books and plush toys.

Sitting at her desk, Stella stared at a blank sheet of paper. She had decided to write a letter. She couldn't talk to Powder directly, but maybe writing would be easier. Words seemed less frightening when she didn't have to say them out loud.

She picked up a pencil and began to write. Her handwriting was uncertain, a little crooked, with large, round letters that looked more drawn than written.

Dear Powder,
Thank you for helping me the other day. I don't know if you remember me, but I'm the girl with glasses who was coloring while eating cake. You were really brave, and I don't know how to thank you.
I'm really sorry that you got in trouble. I wanted to tell the teacher, but I couldn't speak because I was too scared. I'm really, really sorry. You were kind to me, and I did nothing to help you.
I wish I could be your friend, but maybe that's a silly thing to say.
Thank you again for everything. You are the bravest person I have ever met.
(And super cool!)

Zaya

After writing the letter, Stella stared at it for a moment. It felt like something was missing. It was too simple, too plain. She wanted Powder to understand how important she was to her.

She grabbed her colored markers and started decorating the paper. She drew small flowers along the edges, golden stars that sparkled against the white sheet, and pink hearts near her messy signature. The result was cheerful and childish, but Stella was proud of it. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever created.

Then, another idea came to her. She got up from her chair and went to the kitchen, where her mother was preparing dinner.

«Mama, can we make some cookies?» she asked shyly.

Her mother looked at her in surprise. «Cookies? But it's almost dinnertime.»

«Just one, please. It's for someone important.»

Her mother smiled and agreed. Together, they prepared a small batch of dough, and Stella shaped a heart-shaped cookie with chocolate chips. She watched it intently as it baked in the oven, as if it were the most important cookie in the world.

When it was ready, she placed it in a clear bag, tying it with a pink satin ribbon she had found in a drawer. It was perfect. Or at least, it seemed perfect to Stella.

The next morning, Stella arrived at school a little earlier than usual. She had spent the night thinking about how to deliver her gift, and in the end, she decided to leave it on Powder's desk.

Her heart pounded as she entered the classroom. Her breathing was quick, as if she were doing something forbidden. She looked around to make sure no one was watching.

Powder hadn't arrived yet. Her desk was empty, with scattered drawings lying messily on top. Stella walked over slowly, the bag in one hand and the letter in the other. She felt like a thief, even though what she was doing wasn't wrong at all.

She placed the decorated pink letter on the desk, next to the bag with the cookie. She stood there for a moment, staring at the small gift as if she wanted to burn the scene into her memory. Then, with a sigh of relief, she hurried back to her seat.

When Powder entered the classroom a few minutes later, she didn't notice the gift right away. She sat at her desk, chatting with her friends, until something unusual caught her eye.

«Hey, what's this?» she said, picking up the letter. The bright pink color and decorations immediately captured her attention.

She opened the paper and began to read. As the words unfolded before her eyes, her expression changed. The playful look on her face softened into something gentler, more thoughtful.

By the time she reached the end of the letter, Powder smiled. A sincere, almost shy smile that she rarely showed. She picked up the bag with the cookie and examined it curiously, then turned toward the classroom, scanning the faces for Stella.

Stella immediately lowered her gaze, pretending to be focused on her book. Her face was as red as a tomato, her heart hammering in her chest.

Powder watched her for a moment, then smiled again and started munching on the cookie. She didn't say anything, but that smile was enough for Stella to know that her gesture had been appreciated.

Even though they hadn't spoken, in that moment, Stella felt that something had changed. Maybe, finally, she had found a friend—even if, from that moment on, they hadn't spoken again.

Stella slowly opened her eyes, still wrapped in the haze of sleep. The morning light filtered through the curtains, faintly illuminating Jinx's room. For a moment, she felt confused, lost, as if she wasn't sure where she was.

A dream. She had just had a vivid dream about her childhood, a distant memory that almost felt like it belonged to another life. She saw herself—small and insecure—sitting alone at her desk, wearing a blue school uniform and glasses that were too big. She saw Powder—small and brave—stepping in to protect her.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to focus on the reality around her. The memory of the dream faded, giving way to a far more pressing question: had what happened the night before been real?

Stella turned slightly, her heart beginning to beat faster. What if it had all been just another dream? The kisses, the words, the emotions... She wondered if her mind had played with her desires, weaving a fantasy so perfect it felt real.

But as she lowered her gaze, reality hit her like a sweet relief.

Jinx was there, in her arms.

She was sleeping deeply, her arms wrapped around Stella's waist, almost as if she were afraid she might slip away. Her face was buried in Stella's chest, warm and soft against the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Jinx's breathing was slow and steady, a quiet, reassuring sound that filled the room with calm.

Their legs were tangled beneath the covers, as if they were unconsciously trying to get even closer to each other. Stella could feel the light weight of Jinx on her, the delicate way their bodies fit together so perfectly.

For a moment, Stella remained still, unable to do anything but watch Jinx. Her blue hair was messy and tousled, scattered in every direction, but to Stella, it was perfect. The morning light barely illuminated her cheeks, making her delicate features look even softer.

She was so close, so real.

Stella held her breath. The warmth of Jinx's body seemed to seep into her, melting away any lingering doubt. This wasn't a dream. Everything that had happened the night before was real, and that realization washed over her with unexpected sweetness.

She couldn't help but smile. She was happy—happier than she had ever imagined she could be. And at the same time, a small sense of disbelief nestled in her heart. How could she be this lucky?

Stella's eyes traced the sleeping face of Powder, taking in every curve and every detail. The softness of her cheeks, the dark lashes barely brushing against her skin, the perfect shape of her lips... the same lips that had sought hers the night before, that had made her understand just how much she mattered.

Stella's t-shirt was thin, and she could feel Jinx's lips pressing gently against her chest as she slept. It was a light touch, almost imperceptible, but enough to make Stella's heart beat just a little faster.

Lmao this chapter it's so random.

Stella didn't defend Powder (everybody did mistakes, ok?) but she was just scared☹️

Ok, I'm feeling bad for something I wrote.