CHAPTER 3

Her train of thoughts were interrupted when the phone beeps, she picked it up to check the message. Daniel had sent another message.

Daniel: Can I ask you something?

Clara smiled faintly. She was sitting on her bed with her back against the headboard, her textbook forgotten beside her. The evening sunlight slipped through her curtains, casting a golden glow across her room.

For once, she wasn't thinking about school or her mother's expectations.

She was thinking about Daniel.

There was something about talking to him that made her forget herself sometimes. He could make her smile without trying too hard, and even their simplest conversations stayed in her mind long after they ended.

She had caught herself rereading his messages and smiling at her phone when nobody was watching.

It was embarrassing, especially because she had spent so much time convincing herself that she wasn't interested in anything serious.

Clara: Sure.

She sent the reply and waited.

A few seconds later, another notification appeared.

Daniel: Would you give me a chance? Not just as a friend… I mean, would you consider being with me?

Clara's smile disappeared.

She stared at the screen, her fingers suddenly motionless.

For some reason, her chest tightened.

It wasn't that she didn't like Daniel.

She did.

Perhaps more than she wanted to admit.

She liked how he listened when she spoke. She liked how he remembered little things she mentioned casually. She liked how their conversations could move from something silly to something meaningful without feeling forced.

Sometimes, when something interesting happened during her day, he was the first person she wanted to tell.

And whenever her phone lit up with his name, a small part of her felt happy before she could remind herself to be careful.

She had tried to ignore those feelings, telling herself that it was only friendship.

But now Daniel had asked a question she could no longer avoid.

He wanted to know whether there was a possibility.

And Clara had no idea how to answer him.

She lowered her phone and stared at the opposite wall.

Almost immediately, her mother's voice echoed in her head.

Don't disappoint me.

Be careful with boys.

I don't want you coming home pregnant.

Think about your future.

Clara closed her eyes.

Those words had followed her throughout her childhood, appearing whenever she became interested in something her mother considered risky.

She remembered sitting beside Flora while her mother told her stories about girls whose lives had changed because of careless decisions. Some had abandoned their dreams for relationships that didn't last. Others had found themselves carrying responsibilities they weren't prepared for.

Flora never told those stories casually. She spoke with the seriousness of someone who believed one wrong decision could destroy years of hard work.

And Clara had listened.

She knew most of her mother's warnings came from love. Flora wanted her to complete her education, build a good future, and avoid mistakes that might make life more difficult.

Clara understood that.

But understanding why someone was afraid for you didn't automatically teach you how to stop being afraid yourself.

Somewhere along the way, the warnings had become more than advice.

They had become fears she carried everywhere.

She was terrified of disappointing her mother.

Terrified of getting pregnant before marriage.

Terrified of allowing a relationship to distract her from school.

And most of all, she was terrified of making one mistake that would change everything.

What if Daniel changed?

What if she trusted him and discovered that he wasn't the person she believed him to be?

What if she became so attached that losing him affected her ability to concentrate on school?

What if her mother found out and believed she had ignored everything she had been taught?

The questions came one after another, leaving little room for the simple truth that she liked a boy and was trying to understand what that meant.

She wasn't even being asked to make a lifelong commitment.

Daniel had only asked whether she would consider being with him.

Yet her mind had already carried the question into a future filled with possible regrets.

"Why does everything have to be so difficult?" she whispered.

She wished she could approach relationships the way some of her friends seemed to. They could like someone, talk about their feelings, and decide what they wanted without turning every possibility into a frightening examination of their entire future.

But Clara couldn't do that.

She had spent so long protecting herself from disappointment that she had begun treating every unfamiliar feeling as a threat.

She had become cold when she felt vulnerable, harsh when she thought someone might hurt her, and distant whenever a person tried to get too close.

Sometimes, she said things she didn't mean simply because she wanted to end a conversation before it became too personal.

Other times, she withdrew without explaining why, leaving people to wonder what they had done wrong.

She wasn't proud of those habits.

But knowing something was wrong didn't mean she knew how to change it.

She had spent years learning how to build walls.

Nobody had taught her how to take them down.

And now Daniel was asking her to open the very door she had spent years keeping locked.

"Clara?"

Maya's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Clara looked up so quickly that her phone nearly slipped from her hand.

Maya was sitting on the other side of the bed, sorting through a few things she had brought into the room earlier. She had been talking about something that happened at school, but Clara had barely heard a word.

Maya studied her face.

"What happened?"

Clara quickly locked her phone.

"Nothing."

Maya raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing?"

Clara nodded and placed the phone beside her pillow.

"Yes. Nothing."

Maya stared at her.

"That's the third time you've said that this week."

Clara forced a smile.

"Maybe because you ask me that question too much."

"No, Clara. I ask because every time I look at you, you seem to be somewhere else."

"I'm just tired."

"You were tired yesterday. You were tired the day before yesterday, too. Should I start believing you'll be tired for the rest of your life?"

Despite herself, Clara almost laughed.

"You're so dramatic."

"And you're avoiding the question."

Maya leaned back against the wall.

"Look, I know you don't tell me everything. I'm not asking you to. But lately, whenever I ask what's wrong, you give me the same answer."

Clara looked away.

She hated how easily Maya noticed things she was trying to hide.

It wasn't that she didn't trust her friend. Maya had been there for her through ordinary days and difficult moments, and she had never deliberately made Clara feel small for being herself.

But Clara had become so accustomed to hiding her feelings that even the thought of explaining them made her uncomfortable.

Sometimes she didn't understand what she was feeling until long after the moment had passed.

How was she supposed to explain something she couldn't fully understand herself?

"I'm fine, Maya," she said quietly. "Really."

Maya's expression softened.

"Okay. I'm not going to force you to talk. But if something is bothering you, you don't have to wait until it becomes unbearable before telling someone."

The words settled between them.

For a moment, Clara felt an uncomfortable pressure behind her eyes.

She wanted to tell Maya everything.

She wanted to explain that Daniel had asked whether she would consider being with him, and that she was terrified of what her feelings might lead to.

She wanted to admit that part of her was happy he had asked, while another part wanted to run away from the conversation entirely.

But the words remained trapped behind her teeth.

Maya waited.

Clara said nothing.

Eventually, Maya stood up.

"All right. I'll leave you alone for now."

She paused near the door.

"But Clara?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't always have to pretend that nothing bothers you."

Clara forced another smile.

"I know."

Maya left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Clara stared at it for several seconds.

She wished she knew how to explain that pretending wasn't always a deliberate choice.

Sometimes the truth rose inside her, ready to be spoken, and fear pushed it back down before she could form the first sentence.

She turned toward her phone.

Daniel was still waiting.

Daniel: You don't have to answer immediately. I just want to know if there's a possibility.

Clara stared at the message.

She could almost imagine him on the other side of the conversation, wondering what she was thinking.

Perhaps he was nervous, too.

Perhaps sending the question had required more courage than she realized.

The thought made her feel guilty.

Daniel had been honest about what he wanted, and she was treating his question as though he had asked her to decide the rest of her life.

He deserved an honest response.

At the very least, she owed him the truth about her uncertainty.

Her fingers moved across the keyboard.

Yes.

She stared at the word.

It looked so simple.

One word could change the direction of their relationship.

And a small, hopeful part of her wanted to send it.

She imagined what might happen if she did. Perhaps they would become closer. Perhaps she would learn more about him and discover that the feelings she had been trying to ignore were worth exploring.

Perhaps she would finally allow herself to enjoy something without spending every moment preparing for it to end.

Her thumb moved toward the send button.

She deleted the word.

No.

That was easier.

If she said no, she wouldn't have to explain her fears. She wouldn't have to wonder whether she was ready or face the possibility of disappointment

She could close the door before anything happened.

But the word felt wrong, too.

Because it wasn't the truth.

She didn't want to reject something she might genuinely want simply because she was afraid.

She stared at the empty message box.

She liked him.

She was afraid.

She wanted to know what might happen between them.

She also wanted to protect her future.

How could all those feelings exist together?

Finally, she typed:

Clara: Daniel, I'm scared.

She read the message once before sending it.

It wasn't the answer he had asked for, but it was the only honest thing she could manage.

She pressed send.

His reply came almost instantly.

Daniel: Of me?

Clara stared at the question.

She wanted to say no.

But the truth was more complicated.

She wasn't afraid of Daniel himself.

She was afraid of what could happen if she allowed herself to love him.

She was afraid of becoming attached to someone who might not stay. Afraid of losing herself in a relationship. Afraid of making a decision her mother would never understand.

And perhaps she was afraid of something else, too.

She was afraid that if she admitted how much she liked Daniel, she would no longer be able to pretend that her feelings didn't matter.

She began typing.

No, Daniel. It's not you.

She stopped.

It sounded too simple.

She tried again.

I'm afraid of getting hurt.

That was closer, but it still wasn't the whole truth.

She wanted to explain that she had spent so long trying to protect herself that she no longer knew how to take a risk without imagining every possible consequence.

She began typing again.

Then suddenly, Flora's voice came from behind her.

"Clara?"

She nearly dropped the phone.

Her heart jumped as she turned around.

Flora was standing in the doorway, one hand resting against the frame. Her expression was difficult to read, but her eyes moved from Clara's face to the phone in her hand.

For one terrible second, Clara forgot how to breathe normally.

"Mum?"

Flora stepped into the room.

"I've been calling you."

Clara glanced toward the hallway.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."

Her mother looked at the phone again.

"Who are you chatting with?"

Clara's fingers tightened around it.

"No one, Mum."

The lie came out automatically.

Flora's expression changed.

"Clara."

It was only her name, but the warning in her mother's voice made her stomach twist.

"Who is it?"

Clara looked down at the phone.

"A friend."

"What friend?"

"Someone from school."

Flora took another step into the room.

"Someone from school who makes you hide your phone when I enter?"

Clara's cheeks grew warm.

"I wasn't hiding anything."

"Then why did you lock your screen so quickly?"

Clara opened her mouth, but no answer came.

She wanted to explain that she hadn't been doing anything wrong. She had simply been having a conversation with someone she liked.

But saying those words aloud felt impossible.

She didn't know how her mother would react. She didn't know whether Flora would listen to her explanation or immediately begin reminding her of everything she had ever warned her about.

"Clara, look at me."

Slowly, Clara raised her eyes.

"Are you talking to a boy?"

The room seemed to grow smaller.

Clara could have denied it. She could have said Daniel was only a friend and hoped the conversation would end there.

But another lie would only make her more nervous.

She lowered her gaze.

"Yes, Mum."

The admission was barely louder than a whisper.

Flora remained silent.

That silence frightened Clara more than an immediate reprimand might have.

"What's his name?"

"Daniel."

"How long have you been talking to him?"

Clara hesitated.

"A few weeks."

Flora looked away briefly, as though trying to organize her thoughts.

"And what exactly are you discussing with this Daniel?"

Clara's mind went blank.

She couldn't tell her mother that Daniel had just asked whether she would consider being with him.

Not while Flora was standing in her doorway, looking at her as though the answer might determine everything that happened next.

"We're just talking," Clara said.

Flora raised her eyebrows.

"Just talking?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Clara, you know what I've told you about these things."

There it was.

The sentence Clara had been expecting.

She felt something inside her tighten.

"Yes, Mum. I know."

"Then why are you putting yourself in a situation you know could distract you from what matters?"

Clara looked up.

"I haven't done anything wrong."

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Flora went quiet.

Clara immediately regretted her tone.

"I didn't mean—"

"Then help me understand," Flora interrupted, her voice firm. "You know how important your education is. You know how much work it takes to build a future. Why do you want to introduce something that could make things more complicated?"

Clara's fingers tightened around the phone.

"Talking to someone doesn't mean I'm going to abandon school."

"That's not what I said."

"But that's what it sounds like."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Clara felt frustration rising inside her.

She loved her mother. She knew Flora had made sacrifices for her and wanted to protect her from mistakes.

But Clara was tired of feeling as though every part of her life had to be examined through the possibility of doing something wrong.

She wanted her mother to understand that having feelings for someone didn't automatically mean she had forgotten her future.

"Mum," she began carefully, "I'm still concentrating on school."

Flora's expression softened slightly, but the concern remained.

"I want you to keep concentrating on school. I don't want you to do something you'll regret later."

Clara nodded.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

Flora studied her for a moment.

"Clara, I don't want you to suffer. I don't want you to make decisions because someone tells you sweet things and makes you believe they will always be there."

Clara's throat tightened.

Her mother's words struck a place she hadn't expected.

Because that was one of her fears, too.

She knew affection could feel convincing. She knew people could make promises without understanding what keeping them required.

She wasn't blind to the risks.

She was simply trying to understand whether avoiding every risk was the same thing as making the right decision.

Flora continued.

"You have a future ahead of you. You have things you need to accomplish. I don't want you to look back one day and wish you had been more careful."

Clara looked at the phone in her hand.

Daniel's unanswered question was still waiting.

She wondered what her mother would say if she knew that the boy on the other side of the screen had asked for a chance, not a promise of forever.

She wondered whether Flora would understand that Clara wasn't trying to throw her future away.

She was simply trying to understand her own heart.

But she couldn't find the courage to explain any of that.

So she nodded.

"Okay, Mum."

Flora's expression softened.

"Be careful, Clara."

"I will."

"And don't let anyone pressure you into doing something you aren't ready for."

Clara looked up.

Something about the sentence felt unexpectedly close to what she needed to hear.

She wasn't ready for everything a relationship might involve. She wasn't even sure what being together would mean to her.

But she wanted the freedom to discover that at her own pace.

Flora turned toward the door.

"We'll talk about this later."

Then she left.

The door remained slightly open behind her.

Clara sat completely still.

For several seconds, she could hear only the faint sounds coming from downstairs.

Then she looked at her phone.

Daniel's message remained on the screen.

Daniel: Of me?

Clara's eyes stung.

She had wanted to tell him that he wasn't the problem, that she liked him, and that she was simply frightened of what might happen if she allowed herself to become vulnerable.

Instead, her mother had entered the room, and all the words had disappeared.

She placed the phone on the bed and covered her face with both hands.

She wasn't angry with Flora.

Not entirely.

She understood her mother's concerns.

But she wished that understanding them didn't make her own feelings so difficult to express.

She wished she could tell her mother that she was trying to be careful, that she was thinking about her future, and that she wasn't asking to abandon her goals.

She was only asking herself whether there was a way to acknowledge her feelings without allowing fear to make every choice for her.

She picked up her phone again.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Finally, she wrote:

Clara: No, Daniel. I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid of getting hurt, and I'm afraid of making the wrong decision.

She paused, then added:

Clara: I like talking to you. I just don't know how to handle everything I'm feeling right now.

She stared at the messages.

This time, she didn't delete them.

She pressed send.

Clara let out a shaky breath.

It wasn't a yes.

It wasn't a no.

It was simply the truth.

And for now, that was all she could offer.

She waited for Daniel's reply, but none came immediately.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Clara began wondering whether she had said too much.

Perhaps he would think she was too complicated. Perhaps he would decide that getting to know her wasn't worth the uncertainty.

She felt the familiar urge to send another message, to explain herself further, to apologize for being difficult.

But she stopped.

She had already told him how she felt.

She didn't need to turn her honesty into an apology.

Her phone vibrated.

Daniel had replied.

Daniel: Clara, I don't want you to say yes just because you like me, and I don't want you to say no just because you're scared. Take your time and think about what you really want.

She read it slowly.

Then she read it again.

For a moment, something loosened inside her chest.

He wasn't demanding an answer.

He wasn't asking her to prove that she liked him.

He was giving her room to think.

But somehow, that made the decision even more difficult.

Because now she couldn't blame the pressure of his expectations for her uncertainty.

She had to face the question she had been avoiding from the beginning.

If she wasn't afraid of disappointing anyone, if she wasn't afraid of getting hurt, and if nobody else had an opinion about what she should do, what would Clara choose?

She stared at the screen.

For once, she tried not to think about what her mother would say. She tried not to imagine what might go wrong.

She simply asked herself what she wanted.

And somewhere beneath the fear, the warnings, and all the walls she had built around her heart, Clara found a small, quiet truth.

She wanted to give Daniel a chance.

She just didn't know whether she was brave enough to admit it.